#also filled in deans birthday

[demonmary]

carefully drawing a little heart around the fifth of each month in my jarchaeology calendar

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 1

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: 5393

Warnings: Angst, Past Trauma.

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. Not sure when this one will be up and available to read yet. Just getting the chapter list started for it.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 1

You grew up hearing about soulmates, but since you were raised by your Aunt Ellen, it was something you weren’t sure was even true. She’d shown you the mark that had shown up on her hip, your uncle’s name, when she’d turned sixteen. Soulmates clearly were a thing, but you were skeptical, even as a child.

“Hey, you gonna take care of the customers or just stand there daydreamin?” Ellen asked you.

“Sorry,” you quickly apologized, tending to the men at the bar.

How did I end up working here, of all places?

Your mind constantly drifted these days, and it started a month ago. Your twenty-fifth birthday was only three months away. Jo continually teased you when she found you off in your head during work hours. Then there was your Aunt Ellen, who was getting more worried about you as the days passed.

The music from the jukebox sounded far away, almost muffled as you absentmindedly took care of the tasks of cleaning tables, the bar, restocking bottles, and filling drinks. Guys would flirt with you, but you’d only give them that fake smile and move on.

It was the birthday you’d been waiting for, even if you hadn’t wanted to admit it to anyone. You were turning sixteen, and you’d finally see the name of your soulmate. Thanks to your aunt, you had gotten your hopes up.

But the day came and went, and nothing appeared. You had checked everywhere, even behind your ears. There was nothing. It took months to pull out of that depression, especially when those close to you asked about it. You also felt like some sort of freak. In all the research you’d done, you couldn’t find anything about not getting the mark when you turned sixteen.

“Geeze, Y/N. You’re really out of it today. What’s wrong, sweetie?” Ellen asked you, pulling you from your memories.

“Sorry. My mind seems to have a mind of its own today,” you sighed, glancing around the bar for a moment.

“You still bummed about the soulmate thing?” she asked you sincerely, in the way she did when she was gently trying to get you to talk.

You just shrugged your shoulders before taking off your apron, “I have to go help Bobby at the garage again.” 

“Is it that time already?” Ellen asked, glancing at the clock, then sighed. “Alright. Tell the old grump I said hi, and don’t let him work you too hard.” That made you chuckle, “He never does, and I’ll let him know.”

Again, your mind drifted as you drove down the semi-busy streets to Bobby’s garage. He and your Aunt had been friends for a long time, so he was practically family, as was his wife, Jodi. Growing up, you’d spent half your time in the garage, helping Bobby fix cars.

Sioux Falls wasn’t a big town, but wasn’t tiny either. You knew most of the people who lived there, and they knew you. It was more like more of them knew of you, the girl with no soulmate. You sighed as you drove your 71’ Pontiac Firebird Formula 400, a gift from Bobby you had to fix up, down the lonely road leading to his garage. 

“Got something for ya, kid, but you gotta fix her up,” Bobby told you when you showed up for your shift that hot summer afternoon.

“I told you. You don’t have to get me a present this year,” you groaned.

A year ago, you began hating your birthdays, and you didn’t want to celebrate this one. You begrudgingly followed him to his garage, then to the side of it, where you noticed the tarp over something.

Bobby walked over and pulled the tarp off, revealing the shell of a 71’ Pontiac Firebird Formula 400. You had fallen in love with muscle cars as a kid, watching The Dukes of Hazzard. Your jaw hit the floor as you ran over to her like a kid on Christmas.

He was smiling from ear to ear as he watched you look over everything, “She’s all yours, but you gotta do the work. You can’t let any other mechanic touch her. I’ll answer any questions, but I ain’t helpin' either.”

“Are you serious, Uncle Bobby?” you asked excitedly, popping the hood of the beat-up frame.

A small smile crossed your expression with that memory as you pulled into the driveway of Bobby’s garage and parked in the back. It seemed like so long ago, but it was one of your fondest memories that had made your birthday not so bad.

“I’m here,” you hollered, heading over to the car you’d been working on for almost a week at this point. 

“How was the bar?” he asked, joining you in the garage.

“I was a space cadet, and Aunt Ellen is worried about me,” you replied, sliding back under the car to finish it up.

“You’re not a space cadet. I just think you can’t focus around all those people anymore. Come work at the garage, full-time,” he told you, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.

“I’ll think about it,” you answered, tightening down a few more bolts.

“Besides, Jodi misses you being around more often,” Bobby added in an attempt to persuade your decision.

“I miss her too. Oh! Ellen said hi. I don’t know why she doesn’t text you more often,” you replied, sliding out from under the car, looking for yet another tool for yet another size bolt.

When you were in the garage, you always seemed to be able to focus. You knew Bobby had a point, and you’d been considering it for almost a month, but you weren’t about to tell him that. You wanted to let him think it was his idea.

Yeah, your mind drifted, but it was nothing like at the bar. Here, they were little snippets of memories: kids teasing you in high school, adults looking at you like you had two heads, and then there had been attempts to find a job but getting turned down everywhere due to not having the name of your soulmate on your body somewhere. 

By the time your shift ended, you had the car completely finished. Looking down at the car, you stood there, covered with blotches of grease but beaming with pride. 

“I’ll let the owner know she’s ready,” Bobby smiled, now standing next to you. “Think about it, though, okay?”

“I will,” you replied, giving him a hug before you headed home for the night since you’d already cleaned up the tools you’d used.

You lived in a cute little house not far from Bobby’s garage. It was the only thing that you had from your parents, along with a handful of pictures. You’d lost both of them to a car crash when you were only two, having no real memories of them. 

Since you were two when you had lost them, you never asked Jodi what had happened or if anyone else was involved. You honestly didn’t want to know. 

Dropping the things from your pockets on the table, you locked your door and headed to the bathroom. Your thoughts drifted again as you did your typical night routine.

“I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time finding work, sweetie. You can’t work here till you’re at least eighteen. I can’t break that law for you,” Ellen sighed.

You crossed your arms and went back outside to your car. You knew why no one in town would hire you, and it was a stupid reason. However, being a teenager still, you were all hormones and now needed to go blow off some steam.

You peeled out of the parking lot and down the road to your parent's place, which would be yours in less than a year. The drive was short due to the speed you’d chosen to go, and a cloud of dust rolled over your car when you parked out back of the house.

Between the punching bag, the target practice, and throwing your knives till your arm was sore, you had finally calmed down some. You made a call to Ellen and told her you were going to sleep at your ‘almost’ house. She didn’t like it but didn’t argue either.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, curled up in the soft bed that would eventually be your permanent room as the sun set slowly. The thought of being alone for the rest of your life hurt more than you’d ever tell anyone.

Dinner that night consisted of leftovers, and you were thankful you’d prepared them ahead of time when the week began—baked chicken, potatoes, and gravy. You were far too out of it to even worry about a vegetable. 

I’ll tell Ellen tomorrow.

Finally deciding to quit working at the bar as you cleaned up dinner and headed to bed, almost feeling as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Slipping under the covers and getting comfortable, you also felt more relaxed than usual. 

—----

Two hours into your shift, and Ellen had already had to pull you out of your head a dozen times. It was Saturday, so even the morning hours were busy today. You were just thankful that you never had to cook, knowing you would have ended up burning most of the food.

“Can you at least pay attention to the ones at the bar? Jo can handle the floor today,” Ellen told you, again sounding worried.

“I’ll try,” you sighed, glancing at the men sitting there.

There was no point in apologizing again. As you began taking care of the drinks, the bell over the door dinged, signifying yet another customer. Typically, you wouldn’t have even looked up, but something pulled at you.

It was three men, none of whom you recognized, and two of them looked to be around your age, with the third being older. All three of them sat at the bar, so you went over to get them drinks.

“What’s your poison?” you asked, putting on that fake work smile and not really looking at them.

“Three beers,” the older of the three said, “And please tell Ellen to come over.”

You were slightly confused but agreed. You set their beers down in front of them, then went to find Ellen in the back. “Hey, there’s a guy out here that asked for you.”

“Did you get his name?” she asked as she dried her hands.

“No. He didn’t say. He’s with two other guys who are younger, though, if that helps?” you replied as you followed her out of the back room.

You stopped halfway down the bar, but you were still behind it, as she was now on the other side, making her way to the three of them. The older man stood, both he and Ellen smiling as they embraced in a hug, which confused you. You managed to keep up with the drinks for those at the bar but couldn’t hear what the four of them were talking about.

“Y/N, come down here and get these boys a refill,” Ellen hollered, motioning for you to go over to them.

Rolling your eyes, you did as she asked, putting on that fake smile again, “Here ya go.”

“Thanks, Sweetheart,” one of the two younger ones said to you with what looked to be a flirtatious smirk.

“Don’t be flirting with my niece, Dean. She’s still what you’d consider innocent,” Ellen scolded the one who had just spoken to you, but to you, it sounded more like a teasing sort of joking around, which made you slightly curious. “Thanks. Like I need some stranger to know that sort of thing,” you grumbled.

“Sweetie, these are the Winchesters. They’re practically family. You met them when you were little,” Ellen replied, smiling happily.

For a moment, you were somewhat dumbfounded as to what to even say. You couldn’t seem to remember meeting the three of them. Ellen introduced you to John Winchester, the father of Dean and Sam, who were four years apart in age.

“I hate to do it, Aunt Ellen, but, I need to talk to you about something before I leave in ten,” you finally told her.

“What’s up?” she asked, looking quite puzzled.

“I need to take some time off for a while,” you mumbled, feeling bad.

“Take all the time you need, sweetie. I know things have been rough for you lately,” she said softly, then she gave you a hug. “And tell that old fart to stop by sometime.”

“Thanks for understanding, and I will,” you replied, relieved as you hugged her back. Then you looked over at the Winchesters, “It was nice to have at least met the three of you since I don’t remember meeting you before now. Not sure when I’ll see you again, though.”

“How come?” John asked, seeming fairly curious.

“I’m going to be working my other job full-time for a while. It’s the love of my life, honestly,” you replied with a smile, giving John your full attention.

“What’s that, kid?” he asked, which made you wonder if perhaps he knew Bobby since Bobby called you that all the time.

“I fix cars. Hate to do it, but I have to run,” you replied quickly, heading for the door and out to your Baby. However, your heart about stopped when you saw the black 67’ Chevy Impala parked next to your Firebird.

“Damn…” you breathed out in quiet shock and awe.

Shit! I’m gonna be late.

With that thought, you shook your head, pulled your gaze from the car, and drove to Bobby’s garage for your shift. It indeed was a beautiful car, and you knew that no one in town drove one of those. Through deductive reasoning, you figured it had to belong to the Winchesters. You just weren’t sure which one. Whichever one it was, though, they loved that car, and you knew it with how well it had been taken care of.

The leaves on the trees were changing colors already, and the light breeze was finally cooler than the summer heat that you hated. However, you didn’t notice much today; you were too excited to give Bobby the news.

You knew the smile you couldn’t hide would give it away, but you stepped into his little office anyway. You didn’t even have time to say anything before he did.

Bobby was smiling from ear to ear when he looked up at you, “Nice to know Ellen didn’t give you a hard time about being here full time. You can whip those boys on the morning shift into shape for me.”

“Like they’d listen to me,” you chuckled but rolled your eyes.

“They better, since you’re gonna be their boss from here on out,” he told you seriously.

“Wait? What?” you asked, in complete surprise.

“Kid, you know your shit, and you’re good at your job. You’re better at your job than the four boys I got workin here already. I’d rather just have you than all of them 'cause I know you’d get the job done like it should be, and you never cut corners,” he explained, being completely serious.

“I- I don’t know what to say,” you stammered, still shocked.

“Just say thanks and be here at six tomorrow morning. Take the afternoon off and rest up,” he smiled.

You went over and wrapped him up in a hug. He knew the only reason you worked in the garage late was to avoid the boys he had working there in the morning. You had tried doing the dating thing after your sixteenth birthday, but realized quickly that no boy wanted anything to do with you.

That night, you were still smiling, even if you were apprehensive about being someone’s boss, let alone four grown men. People in the town were mostly courteous toward you but treated you like a plague of some sort since your soulmate's name never appeared on your body. 

—-------

As you got ready that morning, you attempted to calm your nerves, but it didn’t work. You gave yourself mental pep talks all morning and even on the drive, but that wasn’t helping either. Your heart was still racing as you parked out back like you usually did.

Bobby was the only one at the garage for the moment, and he even told you to breathe more than once. He explained that you’d still be working on cars, but now you’d also be keeping an eye on the boys he had working there and telling them when to take their breaks. It seemed simple enough.

Benny, Cas, Garth, and Jack were decent guys and were all friends. They’d spend time at the bar in the evenings when you were at the garage. It was how you had avoided a lot of people in the town since they really wanted nothing to do with you. The part you were worried about was interacting with them, as their boss. Bobby was standing next to you as the four of them arrived and mingled into the garage.

“Boys, meet your new boss,” Bobby said sternly, and all four of them looked up at you.

You were sure your heartbeat could be heard throughout the room as you froze under their gaze. The only one who didn’t look at you like you were a waste of space or something to avoid was Garth, and you made a mental note of that.

Something in you snapped with how they looked at you, and you laid into them before Bobby could comment on their expressions. “Look, I know that at least three of you would rather not work with me. I’m not a bitch, but I will be if I have to be. You don’t like this, there’s the door,” you told them sternly, putting your hands on your hips.

“Seriously?” Benny asked, annoyed. His Cajun accent was thick, and if it weren’t for his attitude, you probably could have listened to the man talk all day.

“Yes, Benny. She’s got the right to fire you if need be. I suggest you don’t give her a reason,” Bobby replied, crossing his arms, almost daring the man to challenge his decision.

Garth stepped forward, though, with that kind smile he always had, “I, for one, am looking forward to working with you, Y/N. You seem like a nice person, fair.”

Your expression instantly softened, and you smiled at him. “Thanks, Garth.”

“Alright, get to work,” Bobby told all of you before he headed into his office to keep an eye on things.

You turned from the four of them and headed toward the newest of the cars that had been brought in the day before. Your nerves were shot, but you were proud of yourself for standing up to the three of them. Pausing for a brief moment as you looked down at the car, you decided on something.

I’m gonna just be me. If they don’t like it, they can quit.

You turned on the radio to the classic rock station, then got to work on the car. Benny raised an eyebrow and just watched you silently before he got to work with the other three. It was odd for you with the other four working there, too. It was something you weren’t used to, but you found yourself keeping an eye on them, even while you worked.

An hour into the shift, Cas had stopped working and sat on one of the barstools, sipping some water. You watched him out of the corner of your eye for a few minutes while still focusing on your current task. Five minutes later, he was back to work. You took mental note of it and focused on your task again.

Each of them did that, taking turns to sit for a few minutes, have water, and then return to work. It puzzled you, but you weren’t ready to ask them why they did it, at least not yet. 

Just before nine, you heard it before you saw it. The beautiful purr of that Impala you had seen the night before. A smirk crossed your lips while you were unbolting the upper portion of the water pump for the current car in front of you. 

The Impala stopped, and then she was silent. You could clearly hear three sets of footsteps heading into the garage. The four boys erupted with greetings to the Winchesters, more Dean than the other two. Even Bobby joined in. 

So, they do know each other. Too bad the boys know them too. So much for maybe making a friend now.

You sighed and slid under the car, going for the bottom bolts now that the top ones were loose, completely ignoring the ruckus of greetings going on only about twenty feet away from you.

“Kid, you gonna come say hi?” you heard Bobby ask, and you realized he was standing next to you.

“I really wanted to get this finished, since the part finally came in, and this poor car has been sitting here for a week waiting,” you replied without moving out from under the car.

“Kid, don’t make me pull you outta there,” he told you a bit more sternly, and you knew he’d do it.

“Fine,” you grumbled, sliding out from under the car.

“So much for not running into you again, Sweetheart,” Dean smirked, which made you roll your eyes.

“Dean’s gonna be starting tomorrow morning. Dean, she’ll be your boss, so don’t try anything funny. She’s also practically my niece,” Bobby told him, far sterner than you’d heard him talk to anyone before, which only piqued your curiosity as to what their past entailed.

“I’ll behave, Bobby, I promise,” Dean told him, somewhat seriously. 

You noticed a small twinkle in not only Dean’s eye, but also in Bobby’s. It was like there was something they both knew but weren’t saying, at least not in front of you.

“You better, boy. I got no problems telling your dad and making him fire you,” Bobby replied, glancing at John.

That was when it hit you. You’d seen the initials JW on several different pieces of paperwork and even a couple of packages that had been delivered to the garage. John was Bobby’s partner in the business, and Dean was supposed to inherit it when John passed or retired. You were a bit surprised, though, that you had the power to fire the boss's son or at least write him up if you had to.

John’s laughter filled the garage at Bobby’s statement, “If I have to get involved, you’ll be in far more trouble than just losing your job.” There was a joke in there, but you could also hear the hint of seriousness in his tone.

What do the three of them know but aren’t saying around me? This is so frustrating.

“I said I’d behave,” Dean grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning against the car closest to him while the boys gave him a hard time. But it was there, even if only a hint of it, a smirk, and you noticed.

That was when John and Bobby both turned toward you, and for some reason, it made you nervous. “We’re having a little get-together tonight at Harvelle’s, and you’re invited. Sam graduated and is getting a full ride for law school, and that calls for a celebration,” John told you with a far softer smile than you thought the man was capable of.

“Uh, sure, I guess,” you replied, completely unsure of the idea of being around people who really wanted nothing to do with you.

“Good. Then we’ll see you there around say, seven?” John replied.

“Okay,” you answered, not sure what else to say.

Due to your attention being on John and Bobby, you missed the silent conversations going on between Dean, Sam, and the four grease monkeys on the far side of the garage. Dean was mostly watching you while Benny and Cas were telling him things, about you. Sam was also watching you, but his was more out of curiosity than anything else.

John and Bobby hung out in the office with the door closed for at least another hour. Dean and Sam were distracting the other four while they worked. You, well, you were changing out the water pump, ignoring all of them. It was what hurt the least. 

While you were tightening down the bolts under the car, you noticed a pair of feet standing next to you.

“You really don’t remember us, do you?” he asked.

“Sorry. I really don’t,” you answered, focusing on the bolt that was being a pain to get to.

“Wow. Kinda surprised since we went to the same schools and grew up in the same town,” he chuckled quietly, and you realized it was Sam and not Dean. Sam had a softer voice, and he didn’t call you sweetheart.

“I’m really sorry. I was kind of a loner,” you told him and finally got the bolt tightened down.

Sliding out from under the car and looking up at him, you felt like an ant with how tall he was. You shook off the feeling, got to your feet, and bent over into the engine so you could finish bolting the water pump in place.

“I remember. I heard about what happened, or uh, I mean- what didn’t happen when you turned sixteen,” he told you with that softness you were thankful for.

You shrugged your shoulders briefly, “Doesn’t matter. At least Bobby let me work here. All I ask is that you aren’t being nice to me out of pity. I’d rather be ignored.”

“I don’t pity you. I actually wanted to tell you something I found out while I was at college. It’s rare, like it only happens to one in a billion people. A traumatic event before the age of five can leave a child too scared to get their soulmate’s name when they turn sixteen,” he explained.

You froze where you were. It was more than anything you’d been able to find, and for a moment, you wanted to hope. You quickly brushed it away, though, remembering how badly you’d felt the last time you got your hopes up.

“You gonna keep going or just leave me hanging like that?” you asked, a little sharper than you intended.

Sam took a deep breath, and you missed him glancing at his brother momentarily, “Well, what I read said that the other person still gets their soulmate’s name. The one that went through the trauma has to fully heal from it before they get their soulmate’s name.”

You rolled your eyes, “Kinda hard to heal from something I don’t remember.”

“I just wanted you to know that me and my brother don’t see you like others do, and we’d like to be your friend, if you want,” he replied, then walked away to leave you to your thoughts.

Great. I don’t even know what to do to heal that sort of thing. I don’t even remember my parents. And now, the boss’s kids want to be friends with me. No, that can’t go horribly wrong, can it? Plus, I have to go sit through a celebration with people I don’t remember and others who want nothing to do with me, even if Ellen, Bobby, and Jodi will be there.

You focused on the car but finished it quickly before the Winchesters were even ready to leave. After wiping off your hands, you closed the hood and put the tools away before driving the car out to the finished area so it could wait for its owner to pick it up. When you headed back inside, your eyes were only on the office door, which was still closed. You didn’t see Dean watching you again.

“Hey, Bobby. Cars finished. I didn’t see anything else out back. What do you want me to work on?” you asked, setting the keys on his desk so he could get the paperwork together.

“How about you give Dean the tour? Show him where everythings at?” John suggested with a smirk before Bobby could say a word. “I figured Benny would do that, since they seem like friends,” you replied, not wanting to interrupt the six of them.

“I’m sure he could, but he won’t. You’re their boss. Comes with the territory,” John told you.

“Yes, Sir,” you replied in a slight mumble, heading back out of the office, closing the door, and then leaning on it.

As you crossed your arms, you watched the six of them. They looked like they were enjoying whatever conversation was happening between them, with Dean laughing at something he must have found funny. With a deep sigh, you walked over to them, slipping your hands into your pockets.

There was instant silence the moment you got close to them, but you didn’t let the hurt show, “John said I should give you a tour and show you where everything is,” you explained to Dean, not really looking at him.

Dean glanced at the office door then back down at you, “If that’s what my dad said, then lead the way, Sweetheart.”

Why does he have to keep calling me that? It’s not like he knows me. Maybe he calls all girls that, and it’s just his thing or something like that. 

“Yeah, not like you been in here a day of your life,” Benny teased him, which made you look up at Benny, confused. “Huh?” was the only word you could manage.

“Oh yeah, Dean’s been working in here since he was knee-high to a grasshopper,” Cas chuckled, teasing Dean.

Your gaze went from each of them and then to Dean, tilting your head in a fair amount of confusion. Dean rubbed the back of his neck nervously and looked away from you.

“What’s wrong, Dean? Worried she’ll figure it out?” Benny stated.

“Figure what out?” you asked as Dean glared at Benny.

“Nothing,” Dean snapped, still glaring at Benny.

So, Dean’s got some secret he doesn’t want me to know about. 

“Do you still want that tour I’m supposed to give you?” you asked with a sigh, looking more at the floor than anywhere else.

“Dean, you were here less than a month ago. Did you really forget where everything is already?” Cas teasingly asked him.

You’d had enough, so headed out of the garage, tossing your hands up and hollering, “Never mind,” just before making it outside. Once you made it to your car, you texted Bobby and told him you were heading home since there weren’t any more cars to work on at the moment.

The six of them watched as you drove past the garage entrance and then down the driveway. You missed Dean punching Cas in the jaw. You missed John and Bobby going off on Benny and Cas. You also missed Dean going off on Benny. You were too pissed and hurt to even look back.

Bobby didn’t text you back, but you knew if he had an issue or needed you at the garage, he would have said so. The moment you got home, you went straight for the punching bag, needing to get the anger out of your system so you could shower.

How am I gonna get out of tonight? Can I even get out of tonight? Probably not. I’ll have to show up, at least. I can always leave early, though, right? 

You groaned at the thought of having to be around people, knowing full well that getting out of it, even early, was going to be difficult. At least you weren’t required to dress up any, so you went for a pair of black jeans, a dark blue shirt, and your favorite deep green flannel pulled over it. At the garage, you typically had your hair pulled back, but for tonight, you left it down.

Parking near the back of Harvelle’s Bar & Grill, you were just staring at the building, dreading going inside and having to “people,” as you called it. The sun had already set, and the darkness was allowing the glimmer of stars to be seen in the night sky, but you didn’t notice them, just the bar in front of you.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 2

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[pagannatural]

1.13

-Route 666

-Sam’s hackles are up the minute Dean says they’re dropping everything to help a woman he knows. Sam is alternately irritated and amused by Dean’s trysts but he draws the line at someone else actually being important to Dean.

Sam acts exactly like a jealous wife. He says “so by old friend you mean…?” And then he crosses his arms and accuses “you never mentioned her” and “you mean you dated someone. For more than one night.”

-Sam is even angrier to find out Dean told Cassie he’s a hunter.

He looks like a scorned wife. He never told Jess, who he wanted to marry, the truth about his life shared with Dean. In the pilot, before she died, Dean challenged Sam by asking, Does she know the truth about you? She didn’t, she couldn’t know this part of Sam that Dean knows. Now Sam finds out that there is someone else in Dean’s life who knows their secrets. He’s threatened.

-Cassie is ridiculously beautiful and likable. Sam is too sweet to hold anything against her.

-Sam is paying very close attention to Cassie and Dean. He’s studying them, which means it’s really important to him to figure out what’s going on between them. He observes to Dean that she’s fearless and wouldn’t take his shit. He notices that they don’t look at each other at the same time, that they have unfinished business.

-Sam and Cassie are a lot alike. She’s educated, she stands up for herself and speaks her mind, and she’s the type to call Dean out. Dean specifically told Sam he admired the fact that Sam stands up for himself and goes after what he wants, and we know Sam challenges Dean all the time. Reporters also tend to do quite a bit of research, which is Sam’s thing. She was even in college at the same time Sam was, when she and Dean dated.

Dean met her and had the most serious relationship of his life during that first year Sam was away at college. John wrote in his journal something about Dean talking to a woman who is a reporter about Sam on Sam’s 20th birthday as they leave Athens, Ohio. Dean probably sought comfort from Cassie about missing Sam and definitely told her about him. Dean tried to fill the Sam-shaped hole in his life with Cassie.

-Dean can either have Sam or he can have a girlfriend (or he can have neither) but he can’t have both.

-Sam won’t let this go. He’s kind of teasing Dean about it but then he gets serious when he says “you loved her.” His vibe changes again when he guesses that she was the one who dumped him. He looks hurt. He probably thought he was the only one who had ever dumped Dean.

It makes him so insecure.

-Did Sam just think that Dean would never fall in love or get into a relationship? Is this the first time he’s considering that possibility?

-Sam reflects that when he was at college his life was so simple. Something about this particular case makes Sam miss when his life was less complicated, and the only thing different about this case is that Dean has feelings for someone. It would fit with Sam running away from his feelings for Dean.

-Sam coughs loudly when Dean and Cassie kiss and tells Dean to admit he’s still in love with her. Dean doesn’t. Imagine Sam’s face if he had.

-Sam watches Cassie and Dean kiss goodbye and then looks away with this expression on his face

-He asks Dean if a girl like Cassie ever makes Dean question if what they’re doing (hunting) is worth it. He also says he likes her, like he’s giving his approval. He’s doing the same thing Dean did in Hook Man, seeing if his brother wants to stay behind for a love interest.

They’re testing each other. They’re pushing to see who will leave first. Sam’s abandonment issues come from not feeling chosen and feeling left out, left on his own constantly while Dean and their dad hunted, the odd one out. It’s part of why he left in the first place. He thinks Dean needs his help, but he doubts that Dean would truly choose him when it came down to it. Before this he thought that Dean was choosing hunting over him, but now the possibility arises that he could choose another person. He thinks now that this is what Dean truly wants.

-Dean doesn’t answer Sam’s question outright. He just looks at Sam with so much love and tenderness and tells him to wake him up when it’s his turn to drive. There was never any contest.

[satocidal]

-RING RING!!

Say Hello to our Operator Number two, Exclusively in Demand:

── .˳⁺⁎˚ This caller seems to be into Power Play and the Normalisation of Frat Boys

── .˳⁺⁎˚ Gojo Satoru Starring in ⌞Power Couple!?⌝

Synopsis: the famous rich boy of the campus and the principal’s daughter? Scandalous—especially when they’re both jealous as hell.

— word count: 7.7k

— a/n: sort of like a repost/continuation—the sfw part is basically the entire “Opposites Attract!?” Fic, but since the idea was a part of kinkmas I’d initially decided to split it but then, I didn’t want that anymore soooo here you go, slow burn(?) with smut lmao [scroll like all the way down for just the smut💀] [also for Gojo’s birthday I posted it a day earlier hehe]

— warnings: fem! Reader x Gojo smut!! MDNI!! Oral (m! Receiving); partial exhibitionism(?); undertones of jealousy; porn with plot; slightly subby Gojo to total daddy dom moment💀 power dynamics; cheating dynamics(?); Suguru; lot of build up and pining; idiots in love; Satoru gets drunk (non-canon but shut up); manhandling; oral (m! Receiving)

4.5 g.p.a—a perfect reputation that you held, a decent social life—an amazing father to back you up, you weren’t ever part of the fraction of people who got in through with scholarships, why would you when your father stood as the dean? —but you’d worked for it.

3.7 g.p.a—it could’ve been far better, easily, if he only put himself in—far too loud a social life with a following of 4k+ on his Instagram while he only followed back his best friend and pretty little things (for a day or so)—part of the fraction who got paid in, who never struggled for it.

Sure, you hadn’t really struggled either—but hypocrisy was only allowed to one and you chose to take your chance.

You didn’t…despise him, the man that Gojo Satoru stood out to be, but lords, you hated the concept around it.

The loud cackle at the back of each lecture—the proxies and his fan girls, you hated it all.

More so, you hated just how enamored your dad was—after all, it was Gojo Satoru that had won the trophies and the plaques—Satoru Gojo that was a Power Player.

But the credit wasn’t to be forgotten for you too—dabbling in all that was academic, if the second half of your dad’s office as the dean were filled with Satoru’s achievements, the first half was yours.

Two sides of the same coin.

———

Your eyes never left your dad for a second, “you can’t possibly expect that out of Me dad,” the whine wasn’t subtle, nor the snicker that gojo let out at your words and outlet—earning a hard glare.

And to all the pampering and spoiling your father had to offer, it all failed when it came down to the pride and prestige of the university.

“It’s non-negotiable y/n,” the sleek brown in his room shone that afternoon, polished—every groove, every rounded corner—almost a story to behold.

“Yeah! Tell her Mr.Dean,” another snicker- another glare, your father sighed in his dismay.

“You,” your father glared at him, “need to find a way to shove it in your schedule as well—you’re both the elected representatives.”

To end with all whines and groans.

“I have no idea how but I need you two to find a presence of mind and perform your best in curating an experience at the fest. Dismissed.”

A sharp inhale, yours and the roll of Satoru’s eyes, your dad was aware how interesting an evening and a fest in general he would be witnessing.

———

You’d known Gojo Satoru for 3 years now, spending the last together at the University, standing as the President of Student Council—all against  Gojo’s constant “nepotism” comments while he stood as the Captain of the Football Team—against your criticism as well.

A certain peak in the way you two governed your particular fields independently but, together?

Well.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t always that you both disliked each other but, you couldn’t exactly deny the certain distaste the day you’d set eyes on him…

-

~First Year~

“Dad, please, make sure that no one knows that you and I are, at all related,” a chuckle your father let out, “of course darling, but don’t get prissy when I don’t let you out with attendance matters  and all,”

Another chuckle shared, nothing too serious.

“I’ve heard Gojo Satoru will be joining this year too?”

An innocent question, curious is all you were—anyone would be, one of the best the country had seen in years.

Your father nodded slowly, “just so happens to be true, stay in check though, don’t want messing with people like that,”

It was evident, the wary tone that your father had acquired over the years, dealing with all that was the ego of such students, who stood tall with the heap of money that belonged to their daddies.

A slow nod you passed too—your father smiled, you were a smart girl after all.

But fate was decided and what had to happen would happen for sure.

Because you swore to maintain the secret, you weren’t to be even found to have the slightest relation of blood with the Dean — but then whatever could you do when you step out blindly, bumping right into the guy you wanted not to.

A hiss and a curse—“the fuck? Watch where you’re going,” he mumbled-eyes boring into yours, and then simultaneously, at the car.

Anger that flashed down right—“watch your damn language,” unironically, you muttered—something he’d never let you live down.

“Woah there princess, what are you on? Some patrol duty round here-?” The smirk was infuriating, his disheveled hair all the more—especially when he continued messing it up all the more.

A scoff, yours—“Mind your own business,” a shove passed and an attempt to move away—“Y/n L/n?” He held your campus manual.

The certain way your name rolled off his tongue, it caught your attention—“ya dropped this,”

A smirk adored his face as he handed back to you the campus manual, of course it wasn’t anything you required but to solace your father, there you held it.

A cramped “Whatever,” you let out, snatching the booklet from his hands quick—wanting nothing more to do with the stranger that you’d bumped into.

Just as you walked away though, “L/n huh?” The words, his, that you knew would cause you issues.

-

“He’s Satoru Gojo?” Your surprise lay hidden under the music that boomed all too loud—watching closely the white haired boy you’d bumped into a couple days ago.

“Yeah? You didn’t know?” The grin on your now best friend, and then just-roommates-friend offered little help.

Of course you hadn’t, and now you wish you didn’t still.

It was true you’d spotted him all so much over the past few days, and the people that followed him and the rumors still—unaware to why and how.

But now, with all the pieces in your hand you wanted to hide away—especially when those blue eyes stared right back—with a grin he trampled over.

“Oi! L/n right? We met at the first day?”

You cringed at how loud he spoke—so very sure that absolutely everyone could hear him, all over the booming music.

A subtle nod you passed, trying to get away from the spotlight he’d casually thrown round you.

“Your dad’s the Dean right?”

Silence- literally, just as he said that, the music system paused too—you wanted to curse your luck.

Widened eyes—star-struck stares from all those adored Gojo, amused ones at you from everyone who bothered to think.

You’d have considered lying—unless Satoru Gojo hadn’t chosen to be a dick about it, “You guys have the same last names so I thought- and then, the other when we bumped into each other- remember?” He chuckled as a couple of girls let out audible gasps, envious that you had already touched him so.

Before opportunity even lay still, he continued, “so I thought, because frankly either you’re his daughter or…you know, mistress—but that I doubt,” you wanted to punch away the grin he held, the snicker and the secrets he dropped out like flies.

So while you stood there, waiting for the ostracism—Gojo only giggled, “Don’t worry though, you’re fine, got more of your mom’s genes right?”

Fuming, you stood there—red that masked your vision—“excuse you?” A brow remained cocked, Gojo’s facial expression never once changed—it was about to.

“You’re one to talk about dads huh? Your daddy donated in just about  how much into your esteemed football team huh? To get you selected?”

Satoru wasn’t new to comments such, in fact that’s what he’d built his career over but just the way you said it—just the way your angry face stared back at him—he found you annoying, adorably so.

That night, Satoru’s fan following increased by a decent thousand or so, people became aware of you and maybe, you realized, being the Dean’s daughter wouldn’t be that bad a fact.

But all the more, Gojo and you formed a sudden bond still, dislike and nothing less masking the two of you whenever the other was mentioned.

A farce? Maybe—but you were easily, in too deep to stop now.

Often nights you spent, thinking how the two of you could be friends—but huge egos that clashed in, something told you it wouldn’t happen all so easily.

-

The following week and there on were interesting—you joked all week that you’d blocked Gojo, you never did.

Gojo swore he’d have you black-listed for being so audacious—he never did.

When the huge messaging group—meant to be dead in a day—was formed, you both ended up saving each other’s number discreetly, never to approach it again, at least for a while.

And that was just how it went on “he annoys me so much,” and “she annoys me so much,” but little by little, small steps in the dark—you both were each other’s biggest cheerleaders still- applauding each other louder than anybody else.

———

Hands clutching onto your notepad you continued jotting down the points—fingers working fast so as not to let a single bright thought escape you.

The event was huge—the University’s 150th Anniversary—perfect, grand, extravagant—to be organized partially, by you.

There was time, plenty—absolutely 1 months before the panic would settle in, 2 before it would be over.

But seconds were quick—hasty in the way they changed into minutes, hours to come and days passed by, never realized.

A finger raised to push your spects up the bridge of your nose—you sighed, eyes landing on the form in front of you—mouth ajar and his sunglasses fixated in his hair, another piece of candy tossed up high before he caught it in his mouth.

A frustrated sigh you let out—“can you please sit straight and help?”

His eyes bore into yours- cerulean, they were pretty, almost prettier than the whole of him, you hated it.

“Isn’t it your job?” A grin he passed, a clench of your jaw was all you could—“we’re in this together, don’t give me that bullshit,”

Another grin, “talk to me when you need booze,”

“You don’t even drink,” the words fell out your mouth all so quick, hesitant you looked at him—“how do you know?” It was an amused smirk that he held, it annoyed you how the man in front seemingly only talked in three supposed emotions.

A small break, “well, I uh- noticed through the parties,” it was true, you did notice through the parties—it was hard not to, since you didn’t drink—you couldn’t be all so sure about the rest.

“You notice me at parties? You notice me at all?” Urges inside you that had to be controlled, such a perfectly punchable face Satoru Gojo held—“help me work on this damn idea,” you mumbled, ignoring all of what he wanted to discuss.

A roll of his eye and yours—“not gonna do it so easily,”

A huff you let out.

Frustration at peak.

“Actually,” your voice was quieter than you expected it to be, “wouldn’t it be better if you were there to advise us? Me? You’ve been organizing parties for so long and,” your face turned towards him—smile never faltering at his disgusted expression—he knew what you were doing, he wasn’t new to sugar coating after all, “I would love learning from the best.”

Jaw clenched, hands sauntered over to the back of your chair—most would consider it an action of endearment, you knew better.

“I would beg to differ Ms. Daddy’s princess,” Your blood boiled at his ignorance—sure, he was Satoru Gojo—but nothing gave him the right to act superior when he stood at his father’s money itself.

Hell, all he was meant to be was just a batchmate, captain of a stupid team that barely mattered—you?

Sure, a well suited empire would never land on your back, nor a fortune as his until you’d worked half your life into it— but you were better, you knew it. Denial onto his privilege to negate the Authorities could’ve never been acceptable by you.

your eyes remained stuck onto the ground —defiant—“well, i suppose it would only be for the best,” stubborn you sat and so did he—stuck in between the thickening tension.

“The best,” his voice exasperated, “would be for someone like you to sit back down and do as you’re told.”

Mouth hanging just in the slightest, you dared not to meet his face—focusing on the little stains and creases you’d administered on your sneakers—eyes sneaking onto his pair, perfect, as expected.

“That’s a little rich, coming from you—”

“—and this is the best they’ve found? You? To help me huh?”

Bigoted. Nose flared, curses at the tip of your tongue and you could do nothing as he further scoffed, “getting a privileged bitch to do my job, now they know my worth huh?”

“Excuse you?” Shaky, you sat—words spilling out before you could stop it—“your worth? Absolutely as nothing, but a spoiled man-baby who cannot deal with things maturely?”

Confusion marked his face—of course he would be, all so blind to the simple generosity that gets offered to him—all so he can kick a ball.

“The event is in 2 months sir,” address regained to the topic, you spoke flatly, “I would well appreciate that you helped us in the organization of said fest—if not, well, it would be a sheer pity that the entire football team would have to suffer,”

And there lay your ultimatum, naked and threatening—and he knew it was all but empty.

“L/n,” Gojo coughed—not quite sure, uneasy evidently, with the tension that hung lose in the atmosphere—“You maybe influential in your own ways on the campus but-”

“-but I’m just a student here, as you are,” you looked directly at Gojo now, “And to adhere to rules is the basic of most authoritative environments. So I suppose, you’ll be all the more pliant in helping us plan the fest and encouraging our juniors to help us out.”

Defiant—squinted eyes of Gojo simply stared blankly—“Alright,” he muttered.

“If help is what you want, that’s what you’ll get.”

And the deal was settled—to your compromise and his.

-

A week had passed since—the discomfort only grew.

“What the fuck? You’re speeding rumours now?” Rough were the words that greeted you first the moment the two of you entered the study you currently sat in—a half shrug you passed him, “I would need help and rather than begging you for it, why not just keep you as my assistant?”

“Excuse you?” His tone, bewildered as he shut the door behind the two of you—“Your assistant?” He barked out a laugh—“They really are making sheer idiots now huh?”

“Says daddy’s little prince who couldn’t use his academics to get in like everyone else,”

A scoff he passed—“How very original, at least my daddy has the power and how is yours, at all better?” he let his words trail off, a smirk on his lips as he pulled a chair to lounge in, and well, all cases be true, his dad probably had more money than you could imagine.

The certain charm of Gojos, after all.

“Don’t gotta flex your daddy’s sex work like that buddy,” you muttered, pulling a chair across him—peculiar you found it that he didn’t do so much as throw a fit in objection to the forced responsibility.

“Just giving inspiration baby,” he drew out—he winked, phone pulled out fast as he typed, you sat by forgotten.

A roll of your eyes—“Help me at least,”

Silence- you sighed.

“You’re supposed to help,” again, the very same cold air met you—“Gojo,”

“Nope.”

A sharp intake of breath and you stared at him, had it not been for the pretty face he had you’d have punched him long ago—a second too long you stared however, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,”

Another eye roll—“Just fucking help me,”

“Ain’t gotta princess,” he finally looked up, “I’m here to advise you right?”

An inhale, exhale—biting down on your teeth you nodded, “Of course,” you muttered—which was what had led you to the current situation, tired, exasperated and annoyed.

An hour and a half, slow—very, spent staring a few times at the blank paper and then the ceiling, often Satoru Gojo and then his phone; a couple ideas popped by here and there, all useless—you knew that.

“You know,” you spoke carefully, “As someone who’s helping you bunk without losing attendance, you should really really be thankful,”

“A bouquet will be present in your dorm tonight doll,” not a single glance spared still—it was frustrating simply to sit such.

A sharp exhale you let out, head hung back—this was a stupid idea.

“You know what?” Chair pushed back, you stood up—“I’ll manage,” fingers clutched hard onto your notepad—it hurt when he didn’t do so much as even shrug as you moved towards the door.

Silence, as you turned the handle of the door to leave—not even a look from him.

You despised him.

———

#6942619412: Yo [11:54 p.m.]

Your eyes narrowed at the sudden text that popped up—ignorance enveloped you still, eyes focused onto the book of applied physics in front of you—regret boring into you as you tried your best to drill the concepts into you, preparing yourself for the soon-to-end semester exams.

#6942619412: busy? [11:56 p.m.]

You ignored still, creeped a little at the protrusion—not enough to let your book down—

#6942619412: idc [11:58 p.mp]

#6942619412: show me your plans [11:58 p.m.]

Face scrunched in annoyance, you stared at your screen—the periodic chimes of notification and the switch from the dull background to immediate light up—Satoru Gojo was somehow a master at infuriating you.

However, as stubborn as lay, you were no better—‘ignorance is bliss’ they said, and you were all too prepared to test it out.

#6942619412: bro wtf. Reply. [12:03 a.m.]

You noted mentally, the time gap between his texts—a sly smile adorning your face. Something in you screamed to not do it—to not go against Satoru Gojo such—the certain something fell to deaf ears as a shit-eating grin you beheld, typing your words in.

You: it’s pathetic of you to message like this [12:03 a.m.]

You: desperate? [12:03 a.m.]

A minute went by, then another—you sighed.

It was perhaps, a bad idea— chime!!

#6942619412: it’s needy of you to message back [12:04 a.m.]

#6942619412: you desperate? [12:04 a.m.]

A smirk—yours, a smirk—his.

You: you realize the first text of your day is to me? [12:04 a.m.]

#6942619412: you realize you’re taking note of how my day goes? [12:05 a.m.]

You: because you decided to bother me in mine—get to whatever you were saying [12:05 a.m.]

#6942619412: there there princess—I demand respect and send me your ideas- or better still I’ll come over to your dorm [12:06 a.m.]

Your eyes remained fixed at the screen; ‘come at your dorm’? Was he stupid?

You: there’s no need to come here gojo. I’ll send you everything right now.

You waited, patiently, however, ever so cruel—time was always slow, especially when waiting onto someone. 5 minutes grudged slow- you were afraid that he would actually show up. Would he?

No, of course not— even for him this was absurd, given the security and the time at night—he was probably asleep—

Knock.

A twist of your window pane’s handle- a thud of your heart and widened set of eyes.

Another knock and you were at your feet, stupidly, opening the window—widening it to welcome Satoru Gojo is your room—scandalous.

A smirk he held, form towering  yours by a decent couple inches, “Neat room,” he whistled as he stood awkward, unsure onto whether to place himself until he found your study—making himself comfortable on the spot you just sat.

“Applied physics?” Curiosity laced his voice and a shrug you responded with — “So what?” You muttered, reaching in to close the book—he certainly took note of the tiredness your voice held.

“So you’re an idiot—it’s a tough field.”

Another shrug—“Gets me going and nothing could’ve sucked more than chemistry so,”

A snort he lay bare—only then did you realize how quiet it was, soft breaths, the new morning dancing about the timelines—your gaze on his, and his on yours. How so eccentric—not.

“You couldn’t deal with chemistry? Gotta be dumb or some shit,”

You scoffed—knowing where he was leading it, “do we really need me to redo the whole ‘got in because of your dad’ shit here?”

He grinned wide—and just then you noticed the perfect set of teeth—the ones you’d hoped to punch and break some day, “I think I’d wanna skip it tonight baby,”

“Don’t call me that,”

“Prissy, eh?”

A scrunch of your face, a wink his.

“Why, and dare I ask, how, did you get here?” Brows raised, expression amused as he paced about your room—taking it in, familiarizing himself.

“Don’t worry onto that doll, just show me your ideas,”

Your eye twitched, it was simply alien to you—the feeling of being treated normal by him. By Satoru Gojo- reality set in straight Every Time you realized that something in you, even if small, craved his attention, his validation.

Maybe that was why you were hurt—when he’d ignored you initially, when he’d shove you in the hall without a thought spared—when his gaze was all so disrespectful Everytime you approached Him.

Maybe it was just the social construct of it all.

Maybe it was something else.

So surprise was bound to grip you hard— he wanted your ideas?

“Well?” Fidgety, you noted his actions to be—nervous? You wouldn’t be sure.

“Why?”

A shrug, half hearted, “I heard stuff on you,” and now your interest sat piqued, “They say you’re as good as me when it comes down to getting shit done,” a wink—you gagged internally at his words- his charm?

Not quite so.

“You’ve been snooping around since the past week? Got you that hooked?” A smirk you channeled, unsure still- suspicious more so.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he muttered—his eyes were quicker, quicker that yours, cerulean, I suppose something to do with the color of them—all too pretty to have one care about anything besides themselves.

“I’ve heard of your accomplishments beforehand, you know it—you just weren’t so important and most of the time I was trying to stay off your radar,” his face panned towards the shelf you kept full of books—“but you did interest me,”

A scoff let’s your lips, “Anything with a vagina and boobs will interest you,”

“Hey now-” and for a second he seemed offended, not that you cared, “don’t forget about the ass—and please, I sincerely accept dicks too.” And just at that you chuckled slightly—a small win he deemed it, “man-whore,” you muttered past him- closing your books and grabbing onto the notepad from before.

“Here,” you handed it over— a sudden feeling of embarrassment washing over—after all, as much of a jerk he was, Satoru Gojo sincerely was experienced and amazing at what he did.

Lips pursed, you stared as he read through the stuff- “I know it’s all too-” a hand raised to quieten you, he continued reading—quick at that too.

It took him a minute or so, to go through each of the 4 pages you’d jotted down—“Not bad,” you nodded, “not the best,” you bit your tongue.

“I uh- i know it’s a little extravagant?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “or more so, it’s not very realistic? You have steps planned out and …you know, it’s supposed to be done by humans not machines,”

Your eyes raised in understanding, you weren’t too sure, but just enough.

“Put yourself into it—you’re cool you know that?,” eyes squinted, you watched him carefully- not a word let out.

“Just a little…uptight, learn to let go,”

“how do I…?”

He grinned, “have fun figuring that out—the ideas were cool, gotta go now doll,” you blinked once, twice, and without a word he was gone—you let him. However could you even ever stop him?

And you knew well, the rumbling in your room was sure to get your father awake.

A click on the lock—you closed the window behind him—swift was the way he came about, annoying, the way he left. And yet you still stood alone in the room, pacing about with a dorkish smile.

And only five minutes after he’d left, after the daze was gone—you noticed the bouquet of jasmines on your bedside—huh.

Certainly understood the charm now—especially when your eyes focused onto your phone right before closing.

#6942619412: you’re actually cute when you’re not frowning yk? [1:05 a.m.]

You went to sleep.

———

~Three weeks before the Fest~

“I’d say it’s coming along amazing,” another fruit roll up popped into his mouth—the fifth packet in last three hours, you were only surprised how he wasn’t sick of them yet.

A nod you passed—“but they’re slow-”

“-because they’re people, they are bound to be slow,”

Another nod.

There was something that Satoru Gojo did help you with, and there was something you’d helped him with as well—his eyes panned onto the elaborate list of numbers he’d gathered, oh how you’d spun the man, Satoru ‘never gonna help nobody’ Gojo into your actual assistant.

“Tell me though, when will you order the booze?”

“It’s an official thing- how can you expect booze to be there?” A ridiculed laugh met you—“ever heard of sneaking shit in princess?”

Of course you had, given that Satoru Gojo snuck himself into your room almost every night, uninvited—so far as to snickering when you squeaked out lies to your father about talking to your friends.

“Shut up, there will be no beverage,” he chuckled at your formal tone, beverage, “you and I, or anyone can get expelled for that—it happened last year,”

“You’re your daddy’s only princess though,”

“And you’re not,” a deadpan from you shut him up quick—“dad’s gonna be mad if he finds it, I won’t be expelled but you might, especially given your record and everything—and yes that means your captaincy and everything too,”

A month ago, the nervousness on his face would’ve made you chuckle—giddy maybe but now it only troubled you for him—hours spent on the floor of your bedroom had opened up conversations after all.

“But you’ll save me right?”

He stared at you; you stared back, you noted the closeness.

There was no reply to be offered—but it did ruin the small moment to hear the causal, “Satoru~” from the lips of her, Mei Mei, long time family friend of his and an equatable annoyance to Satoru Gojo.

Both of your faces whipped to meet hers, yours scorned while his broke into a grin—“Oi!” He chuckled—arms spreading out to greet her, hug her.

“Y/n,” she greeted you too, a smile you passed back—part of your council members after all—“how’s the planning going?”

“Fantastic,” tight lipped you muttered—“fabulous,” she grinned, “mind if I steal Toru’ for a second?”

You mentally gagged at her—‘steal Toru for a second’—except those seconds never really were seconds, rather hours and to your utter annoyance, Gojo never add moves to counter it.

“Of course!” And just like that, gone, daily.

A sigh you let out, staring at the preparations—“why’d you let them walk over you all the time?” A deep voice met you, “Suguru?”

A short smile, a short breath of cigarettes met you—in the best way, “Good day to you too,” he grinned, patting the seat beside him, eyes stuck on his best friend and his rendezvous partner.

“You as , and what exactly do you suppose I do? Stop them?”

“He’s your assistant, ain’t he?”

“Yes but-”

“Am I seeing you finally turn into a push-over, like all the other girls when it comes to him?” All in good humor he spoke, but mostly because it was true.

You were bending your walls for a certain someone—it didn’t feel right.

“You think I shouldn’t?”

“I think you should only if this lasts after the rest as well,”

“Will it?”

A pause, a shrug, “I don’t know, ask him.”

You stared at him—“why are you two the legitimate same at advices? And equally bad?” A laugh met you—“go on, ask him—because as of now, Mei Mei seems to have done what she wanted,”

“Huh?”

A look at him and then at them, your heart sank—he was kissing her, your heart sank more, why were you so bothered by it?

A nervous chuckle you passed to Suguru, an empathetic one he did, “it’s fine,”

“Yeah.”

———

It wasn’t fine, hell it was far from fine—especially when you saw them together there on, all the time.

3 weeks, dates here and there—she was around you all the time, and him, it was infuriating in all aspects of the word.

“Who’re you going with?”  Almost everyday he questioned, and you never had an answer because somehow, just something in you had made you reject every proposal—something in you supposed that you two would go together.

You were the organizers—but then, it was no rule.

And even if it was, Satoru Gojo wasn’t big on rules.

-

“Ready?” Suguru grinned, last minute date that you’d found—all so grateful that you stood.

A small nod with a smile you passed—“how do I look?”

“Gorgeous,” another smile, wider—eyes however, they remained stuck onto Gojo.

“It’s not about him tonight doll,”

“It’s never about him,” you mumbled—melancholy—ironic onto how the entire fest that you’d built was based off of youth and what not.

But it was about him, everything was about him- especially in the way your dress, bought just for the occasion was the same cerulean, your hair was braided just how he once mentioned liking, you were wearing the perfume he bought you for you.

Everything.

And you despised all of this everything while having nothing.

“Yo! Y/n,” you paused, Suguru did too—his smirk widening, as did Mei Mei’s, Satoru walked- sauntered over.

“Don’t you look hot?” The grin was wide, your nose scrunched in disgust, “you’re reeking of alcohol,” 

He was—of course he was, right after you’d advised him not to.

“Chill, nobody’s gonna know-”

“-we have to meet my dad in 15 minutes.”

“…oh.”

“Well anyways, I see you came with Suguru? You’ve been getting close?”

Your eye twitched—so he did see it—“yeah he’s cool, and helpful, unlike you,”

A giggle, “I have a life outside of you, remember?” Your blood boiled—“of course you do, enjoy it.”

A sharp turn you made, lips bitten, unsure, uncertain—“Honestly though, if I weren’t with Mei tonight I’d actually fuck ya “

Your jaw clenched at the audacity—the other two, Suguru and Mei Mei long disappeared as you flared daggers into Satoru’s soul.

“Can you take one thing seriously? You- you bloody idiot I can’t even-” you whipped around to face him again—eyes boring into his.

Satoru, even in his drunken state knew it would last long, the lecture, a hand pulled you in very quick, a corner, secluded.

“Stop fucking shouting,” slurred his words, they lay bare.

“What do you want me to do then? You- you- I- ugh.” You paused, hard breaths let out—“you’re so fucking annoying.”

“Annoying? You’re the one screaming woman,” the small smirk that he adored annoyed you all the more so.

“Excuse you? I’m annoying?” And at that moment, you let go, “I’m annoying after you spent three weeks fucking with Mei Mei? I’m annoying after you’re the one acting irresponsible? I’m annoying after you ended up treating me like all your others girls? I’m annoying after- after you just chose to walk all over me- I’m annoy- mmph!”

Words lay interrupted quick, a rough hand reeled you in while the other held your head, the kiss was soft, passionate of one would call it, sloppy in the way his lips attached to yours, hungry.

And amusingly, unlike all things Gojo, this did not feel wrong.

But it wouldn’t help your emotions being all over the place—“what the fuck?” You asked, the moment he pulled away—“was it that bad?” An amused chuckle rolled off his lips.

“No? You can’t do this- we can’t just kiss- I-”

“-okay, then take it back,” and just like that, he pulled you in again, lips attaching once more, hands exploring each other easy, slow gasps of breath as you pushed him away this time.

“N-no you- I don’t- what? You take it back,” and almost as if his alcohol was on your mind too, you pulled him in this time—a small peck, harsh, Satoru loved it all the same.

Frustrated you pulled away, grinning his hand held your wrist—“don’t go,” he mumbled, your face contorted into the expression which screamed your annoyance.

“Don’t go? Fuck you Gojo. Fuck you and your damn ego and the audacity you have,” your breaths were shallow, the two stood so close.

“Don’t kiss me when you’re with someone else—you might be a whore but-”

“It was for you,” another mumble, quieter, “to get you jealous and I think it worked?”

A pause.

“And The alcohol?” You whispered—he loved it though, the way you prioritised the reputation above him—somehow you humanised him, “only I’ve drunk it, no one else—to…get your attention,”

“But you never drink…”

“And I never fucked Mei either, or kissed her…or anyone since you,”

“That’s supposed to make me feel special?” It did, but you were done for the day.

“I think so…?”

You blink, once, twice and instead of the third that Satoru expected a sharp slap landed on his face.

“You’re very fucking dumb,” while one hand clutched the cheek he’d been hit at, the other still held your hand, pulling you closer when he heard your choked words—eyes widening at the wetness in your eyes.

“L/n…” a sigh, “fuck I’m- fuck.” He held you close, unnatural to your relation, you let yourself be held.

————

“Sorry?”

You glared at him, the Music blared behind you loud— the both of you stood outside your father’s office, “we’ll deal with that later.”

A slight nod, Satoru was glad you even agreed to talk to him, Satoru was glad you even looked at him—Satoru was simply glad you were standing beside him.

A knock, two more, you walked inside—Satoru, as advised by you stood outside—your father would know of course, instantly.

The room seemed a breath of freshness as you walked, away from the stench that Satoru held, “where’s Gojo?” You were prepared for the question.

“Do you like the fest?” You father was prepared for the dodge—he hummed, “you both did good together, as I supposed,” you hummed.

“He won’t be coming?”

“He’s busy,” you lied through your teeth, “some kids snuck in alcohol, he’s dealing with it,” you were sure you caught your father’s smirk—“that would be highly…inappropriate,”

You bit the inside of your cheek, “of course, we’ll see to it that they’re punished well,”

Your father hummed again, “having a good time?”

“Wonderful,” your father grinned, “well, you can go then but…maybe not today but I do hope meet your assistant soon after, kind of tired of seeing him sneak in through the windows,”

“Dad?!”

“What? You’re grown up and I’ve seen the potential and I kind of think opposites do attract, and you proved me right so,”

Idiots, all around you.

———

“You think it’s funny?” The music had hours ago died down, your eyes remained stuck on the man between your legs, “m’ sorry,” slurred words.

Drunk he sat there.

Annoyed, you.

“You could’ve been expelled,” your words, they came out hushed—“but you saved me right?” He held the infuriating grin all the same, adorable.

“That’s not fucking- what are you doing?”

And the confusion was right to be so, what was he doing? Dragged and hefty steps, crawled towards you slow, a lanky arm pulled beside your shoulder, finger caressing your jaw.

“Is this not the part we kiss?” 

You pause, and you stare—the same blue eyes that you live, the same blue that you adore stare back at you—that you’ve found to be staring at Mei Mei too.

“Go and kiss Mei Mei why don’t’ cha?” 

Silence, again—you were you’d be driven crazy if he didn’t catch on now—but he did.

“You’re jealous?” And oh boy, fuck you were—was it not obvious? 

“Of you and her? Please,”

A hum, small, his hand lingered on your jaw—“I was pretty jealous,”

“You told me,”

“No I didn’t,” his words were quick, eyes focused on yours, “I said I wanted your attention—I didn’t tell you how jealous I was, why I was jealous and fuck- I never told you anything at all,”

A pause, heavy—“what is there to tell-”

“-that I would break Suguru’s teeth twice if he ever took you on a date, that I would bite off of the flesh of every guy who’s liked you besides me, that I would lose everything for you.”

Defiant, true—your heart raced.

“You’re drunk,”

“What are drunk words if not sober thoughts?”

You stared at him, as did he—you were confused, he wasn’t, “I want to kiss you right now,” a murmur, yours, “it would be against everything I’ve ever-”

“-fuck, angel, I just want to please you, please let me kiss you,” 

A lean in, a lean away—both yours, “I- why? What? After everything?”

A hefty silence, “can we not discuss all that later? I just, fuck I wanna taste you so bad,”

And so, you let him. 

“Go slow,” you muttered, pulling him in, fingers clutching the collar of his shirt—“why, you inexperienced?” The shit-eating grin was huge, you loved it. 

“Do it, or I won’t let ya,”

And so, it was slow—perfect, you waited as he leaned in, sloppy as it was, wet—sweet.

“Fuck you’re so perfect,” you heard him murmur, your hand reaching to pull at his locks, a whimper sounded through the room—ah, he was perfect it seemed.

And so, it was slow—perfect, you waited as he leaned in, sloppy as it was, wet—sweet.

“Fuck you’re so perfect,” you heard him murmur, your hand reaching to pull at his locks, a whimper sounded through the room—ah, he was perfect it seemed.

Gojo Satoru already sat drunk but it was gradual the way he drank in your scent, your sweetness, the whole of you—feather light in the way your nose touched his.

It felt natural in the way his hand travelled upon your form, yours his—his stuck onto your waist while yours rubbed circles on his thigh.

“Wanna touch you,” a small murmur, his—you smiled at him, “what’s the magic word Satoru?”

His eyes widened in the way that was the first time you’d taken his first name—he loved the way it fell off yours lips, “please,” he uttered out, “please please—wanna, fuck, please wanna touch you,”

“Where?”

And almost as if a switch, you watched as Satoru quietened entirely- “everywhere,”

“On your knees for me,” Satoru scrambled to his feet under the command, eager to please, eager to be yours—“kiss me everywhere Satoru.”

And he did, slow, rapid—it felt like nothing, but it did feel like everything in that moment—to be his, to have his touch.

The kisses, feather-light, began at the tip of your toes, trailing upwards slow—lingering past your ankle to your calves, Satoru Gojo wasn’t kissing for your pleasure, but his own.

It was almost devouring.

Slight moans you let out, gasps, at the way his hands grasped you, hungry—as they held you close, his palm massaging the supple flesh of your thighs.

You weren’t sure aure how long you let him be there, how long you’d been there entirely—the moment was perfect, the music outside has died away—you wanted more.

“Get up,” you muttered- to no avail, “Satoru,” again nothing, sloppy kisses remained pressed to your thighs—so close that he was, your breath hitched.

A hand reached down to pull at his hair—a slight hiss as you jolted his face away from yourself, he let himself be moved—“get up,”

Quickly, eagerly, there he was beside you—unsure, he wanted to kiss you right there, he wanted to touch you, explore you, worship you.

“Pull your pants down, need to touch you,”

His lips parted at that, a slow smile, “you’re eager-”

“-did I tell you to talk back?”

And after that, he didn’t. Not once, not for a good time—choosing simply to focus on the way you slipped between his legs, fingers grasping onto his thighs, massaging them, holding them for support—his eyes stared at you hungrily, yours, at the bulge in his boxers.

Satoru hissed at the way you palmed his bulge- he should’ve known, of course, of course you weren’t there to please him, no. You were there to simply remind him that it was you eventually who held the cards, you who could twist him around, you who’s make him cry in pleasure.

You grinned at the little noises he made, shameless in the way you played with him, nudging at his tip, “you’re already leaking Satoru,” you giggled, “kissing gets you so bricked huh?”

And in response satoru could only groan while You simply chose to smirk, squeezing his dick as you felt it slowly hardening between your hands.

You watched as his cock twitched in his pants- begging to be touched & you couldn’t help but slightly drool at the sight, you’d thought of it yourself.

His dick print showed off the girth and the length- and internally you weren’t sure how you’d even manage—it only made you wanna push him more.

It was tempting—to pull his pants down, to see it, you wanted to suck on it already but there was simply a lesson to be taught and Satoru wouldn’t listen any other way.

You looked up at satoru to meet his eyes, eyes threatening to shut, breathing was heavy and his face flushed a light shade of pink.

“Pull them down,” he muttered, “suck already,”

“I don’t think bad boys like you get to order around love,”

You watched the way his eyes drooped, fighting all of himself to listen to you, “bad? I only wanted you- even saved your damn fest- hey!”

You scowled as you landed another slap at his inner thigh, eliciting a similar reaction—“you don’t talk when I do,”

A scoff from him and another sharp slap—“you’ll get my lips when you apologise sincerely,”

“Ain’t no fuckin- ngh!!” It was wonderful just simply Satoru Gojo got worked up, especially when your nails were digging into his thighs and the other hand slyly rubbed his bulge.

“Awh, Toru’” your grin remained undeniable, loving the control that you held, “wouldn’t it be nice if I wrapped my lips round there hm? But only good boys get that so…”

“Stop actin’ like you’re- fuck, like you’re in charge here,” you giggled again as his head lolled, so pretty- “suck it already- please,”

Murmurs, his voice was low and whiny—“you’re a cute beggar Toru’ but mm’fraid that’s no apology,” but all to no avail, you cocked your brows as he rut his hips into the air.

“Oh?” The single monotonous reply sent shiver down Satoru’s spine- “wait I- I’m sor- ah!” You smirked–holding his cock as you wrapped your lips around his clothed tip. Sucking on it so messily and sloppily. Satoru gasped, surprised at you pulling something like this, something so vile, so nasty.

But he liked it anyways.

You were drenching his pants with your saliva, his head thrown back as you stopped sucking on his tip and started licking his whole length from above his pants. You looked so good underneath him, licking & sucking on his fully clothed cock–“who knew the dean’s daughter was a cock slut huh?” he breathed out, you paused your movements to look up at him once again.

“The same ones who knew-” you paused, sucking with a little pressure at his tip, earning the perfect moan from him, “that the football team captain was damn floozy who came from just touching,”

A lazy smirk rested on his lips as you said that—thighs trembling , hips rutting into air to feel more, pathetic as ever, just how you liked it.

“Satoru tch, tch, tch,” you knew your words wouldn’t have an effect and seemingly neither did your actions at the moment- “if you apologise I can simply peel these soiled boxers off you and get to business love—”

—ring!!

—ring!!

Both of yours eyes panned to your phone at the side— caller id: Mei Mei —while Satoru groaned, you smirked, “could be important eh?”

You watched his eyes narrow in confusion as you wasted no time in picking up the phone, “hi babe!” He rolled his eyes at the faux sweetness you kept.

But his eyes openly rolled further as your ministrations with your hands never came to a stop—stroking and teasing him slowly through his drenched boxers.

“Yeah I’m free to talk, what is it?” The slow strokes never stopped, his whimpers did—“free?” He mouthed the words, pouty he sat there, twitching and throbbing.

“Please love, take your time,” you giggled to the phone, causing Satoru to only push your head back as a way to remind you of his needy stature.

In all honesty, a couple minutes would’ve been ok, bearable—but it’s been a while of “mmhmm”s and “ok”s and you still weren’t done—and that, that easily the last straw.

In a flash that it was, he grabbed your phone quick, pressing it by his ear—“talk to her later-”

As he was about to pull away though, you watched him eye roll, your own hands pinned in front of you now—wonderful of how much power he did hold, and how much he let you have.

“Yes this is Toru’ and no you don’t have to know why I’m with her- you can talk later, no- what? Mei shut up- yes at the Christmas dinner ofc, yes in two weeks of course when else—what? Obviously as my girlfriend.”

And with that, the call was off.

His girlfriend?

“What-”

“-worry more about me than her,” a scoff he passed—both hands pulling you in his lap quick—“had your fun down there didn’t ya doll hm?”

A bashful nod was all you had to offer as he grinned too, a kiss pressed to the shell of your ear, “‘my turn.”

Your heart raced anyways, “no- n-no no no no, girlfriend who?”

His hands were rough in the way they groped you, squeezing your tits, fingers rolling the half-hardened nipples through the frisky material of your dress—the other one resting on your hips—“the dean’s daughter of course.”

[tagging @romiyaro @blkkizzat @draecys @akumuprincess ]

All of this work is entirely original and my own— please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[alexsoenomel]

Random Dean Winchester Headcanons:

Dean not letting you drive Baby. Too protective over his car. You would beg him but he would always say no. He let you once though – on your birthday – but ended up regretting when you almost crashed into a tree. 

He loved drinking coffee with you in the morning in silence. It was your morning ritual. Coffee and then everything else. 

Loved discussing music with you, especially during road trips. He would even let you pick the next song, just because he thought your taste was awesome. 

Being overprotective and possessive. If someone hurts you – they're dead. If someone flirts with you – they get a polite fuck off. If they continue? They get a punch in the face. 

He loved the way you would look at him whenever he would wear a suit. You loved pulling his tie and giving him a sweet little kiss before work, telling him how handsome he looked. 

He loved sleeping next to you. He loved the smell of your hair and how it lightly tickled his face. He also loved being the small spoon every once in a while – he felt safe next to you. He would still put his gun under his pillow though; old habits die hard. 

Dean loved when you would play with his hair, especially before bed since sleep deprivation was his best friend. 

Random dates. He loved taking you out on random free days. Dinners, drinks, star gazing, night drives – he loved spending time with you. 

He wasn’t much of a reader, but he loved when you would read him your favorite books. Sometimes he would read it to you, the sound of his voice was like a lullaby for you on bad days when you couldn’t sleep. You would use him as a pillow as he would read to you until your light snores filled the room. 

Arguing. You would argue mostly while working. You were both stubborn and impulsive so poor Sam always had to be the voice of reason. He wanted to keep you safe and you wanted to hunt.

Jealousy. You would get jealous. Dean was a good looking man and other women would try to get his attention and of course it never worked. He would just ignore them, but that still didn’t ease your jealousy. You would grow silent, anger written on your face and he would of course tease you, making the situation worse – for him.

“Be careful, she’s going to come and steal your man,” He told you once, after a waitress left her number on a napkin. 

“Be careful,” you started as you kicked him in the shin under the table, “next time I’m kicking you where you like my face the most.” He groaned in pain and Sam almost choked on his coffee. 

Bickering. Because he was a little shit and you were his little shit. Two sides of the same coin, actually. 

Kisses, lots and lots of kisses. He loved kissing every inch of you, taking his sweet time, slow, sensual and tortuous. You would whimper under him every single time. 

Holding hands. First time he held your hand was while driving home after a ghost almost took you out. He lectured you after Sam successfully burnt its bones, told you how reckless and stupid you were for jumping in front of him. Then he realized you almost died – the thought scared the living shit out of him.

He was a switch, plain and simple. Sometimes he loved calling you his dirty little slut, making you scream his name over and over, but other times he just wanted to admire your body as you would ride him. He loved when you were in control. 

Praise kink. That man loved being praised. “You feel so good, baby,” was his favorite. 

He would smile whenever you would call him handsome.

You were his sunshine, darling and sweetheart.  He would call you by your name only when he was pissed.

He loved you more than anything, but at the same time he thought he didn’t deserve you. 

You told him I love you first, drunk on whiskey after a successful hunt. Sam was sick that day, so it was only you and him. He didn’t say anything at first, instead he kissed you and took you home. He made love to you that night and between kisses the words slipped. “I love you too, sweetheart.” 

[castiwls]

back to december - d.w

Pairing; Dean x Reader

Synopsis; based on 'Back to December' by Taylor Swift

Warnings; angst (kinda), fluff, (maybe OOC)

Notes; kinda new to writing so please be kind :) might do more Taylor Swift imagine thingys idk.

Masterlist

"This is me swallowing my pride, standing in front of you saying... i'm sorry for that night."

It had been three months since your life came crashing down. Three months since you had packed your things and walked away from Dean Winchester for the last time. 

The last months of your life had been uneventful. The only major event that had passed since December was Dean’s birthday. You’d lay on your bed for hours that day, his contact open on your phone. Calling him would have been so easy but you didn’t. The day passed like any other day.

Most of your time now was spent rotting away in your bed with ice cream and bad rom-coms to keep you company as you tried to get over the never-ending ache in your chest. It was almost as if leaving Dean had also caused you to leave your heart behind with him. You’d spent the last months wandering aimlessly around looking for something to fill that gaping hole yet nothing had worked. 

No number of one-night stands could ever come close to making you feel how he had. You feared that you may have lost your one chance at true love. Sure Dean had been the reason you’d left, his unwillingness to talk to you had been a large factor in your relationship's downfall. You’d preserved with him, you understood going into the relationship that it would not be an easy one but you hit your breaking point when his drinking and outbursts had only gotten worse.

You’d walked away on that cold day in December. You’d made that decision and yet you still felt like you’d ruined your chances at true love.

Deciding that you had to do something before you fell back into a downward spiral you paused your movie deciding to get more snacks. 

You stood in your kitchen staring blankly at the wall waiting for the microwave to ding. The only noise came from the popcorn heating up in the microwave.

A knock rang through your apartment drawing your attention to the door. Frowning you checked the clock. 7 pm. You had no idea who could be knocking on your door at 7 pm on a Wednesday.

The knock came again, this time accompanied by a voice. “Y/N…Can you open the door, please? We really needa talk.”

Your eyes widened as your heart picked up in your chest. Your feet moved quicker than they had in weeks and before you could register what was going on you flung open your door to come face to face with the man who had broken your heart.

Dean looked a mess. His hair was dishevelled and he looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks. He stared for a moment, seemingly surprised that you had opened the door. 

“Dean, what are you doing here?” Your voice was slightly raspy from the lack of use. 

Dean ran a hand through his hair as he looked down the hallway for a moment. “Can I come in? I’d rather not have this conversation in a hallway.” 

Nodding you ushered him in before shutting the door.

You both sat in silence for a moment, neither willing to make the first move. You felt Dean shift as he turned to face you from where you had both sat on the couch.

“Listen..I uh…I’m not good at apologies and all that sappy crap alright but,” He reached over and gently grabbed your hand. “I’m sorry for that night. For how I acted, you didn’t deserve that.”

Dean sighed. He knew it was a pitiful excuse. That words would never fix how he had treated you. He’d spent the last three months replaying that final conversation over and over in his head. 

You gently squeezed his hand. “Dean,” You felt your breath leave you as his eyes locked on yours. “I’d do anything to go back and turn around.” At your words, his eyes lit up slightly. 

He opened his mouth as if going to say something before shutting it, instead, he let go of your hand to gently cup your cheek. His lips pressed against yours and for the first time in months, you felt whole again.

For the first time in months, your mind didn’t slip back to December. 

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— STANDING NEXT TO YOU

SUMMARY : aka part two of scream (you make me feel like it’s Halloween). Just a continuation of the special night that is Halloween and the reader’s birthday.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : nsfw(18+), smut, fluff, flowers, overstimulation, oral sex (f. receiving), spitting

WORD COUNT : 4.4k

A/N : title from jungkook’s song (THE LYRICS OMG 😫). saw @spnkinkevents and I was motivated to write a ‘part two’ for the previous story, hehehe. this was very fun, also glass dildos are so pretty. 

There was nothing to hold onto above the pale, green car she was laid over. She could only grip the loose sleeves of the black robe Dean was wearing and she could see the white mask covering Dean’s face quite clearly even in the abyss around them.

Trembling and whimpering his name, she came for the sixth time that night just with his fingers. The cold of the car’s metal hood evanesced beneath her flushed and sweaty skin, and Dean’s fingers continued to pump in and out of her. Lascivious and wet sounds filled the garage, mingling with her panting and breathless praises for the pleasure Dean was making her feel.

No one has made her as wet as Dean has managed to, not daydreaming of Chris Evans or Oscar Isaac, and unfortunately, not even a fantasy with Henry Cavil. She couldn’t say that out loud though, it would go to Dean’s head, and she’d never be able to recover from it. Neither would the now-sensitive flesh between her legs.

Dean lovingly massaged her tense thigh with one hand. With the other, he rubbed his palm against her sensitive clit, still with his two fingers buried inside her warmth. Wetness was trickling down his knuckles, onto the car.

The movement of his hand slowly came to a stop. Hand trapped between her strong thighs, Dean pulled his two fingers out of her pulsing vagina and gently used his fingers to play with her slick and the cum on his fingers. “That’s it, baby, you’re doing so good,” he praised, spreading the essence of her orgasm over her labia and tender clit.

He lowered her legs from the hood of the car and pulled her underwear up her legs. She whined at his efforts to pull up the soft lace until they covered her soaked core, knowing it’ll feel uncomfortable, but appreciated it anyway. He made sure nothing was twisted and that she was comfortable before speaking up at last,

“So…” With his clean hand, he brushed some of her hair away from her face. Lovingly, he caressed her cheek and smiled softly behind the mask when she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. “How's it going so far?” He asked quietly, lowering his hand to ghost his fingers over her lip.

She opened her eyes again, pouted, and reached up to play with the mask, “I want to see you…” He laughed, pondered playfully and shook his head. “I want you to use your mouth… to kiss me everywhere… to taste me…” His fingers froze on her chin and he started to imagine the feeling of her skin beneath his mouth, the taste of her on his tongue.

“Y’know, that sounds awesome,” he started dreamily. He paused for a while, then wrapped his fingers around her small wrist to pull them away from his face again, “but it’s more fun like this.”

She crossed her arms over her chest playfully and looked away from the mask with a deeper frown. He grinned at her reaction, but pretended to ignore her by leaning over her, snaking his hands beneath her body to pull her body flush with his.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go to bed..” he whispered lovingly, making a point of nuzzling her face with the Ghostface mask covering his face. His voice was filled with mirth when he added, “to continue this over there.”

“Dean, I don’t think I can cum that many times!” She exclaimed with disbelief, uncrossing her arms to push him back away from her gently.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure you can…” he teased, pulling her body towards him again so she was sitting up instead, and trailing his fingers down her spine. She shuddered and leaned against him. “But we can stop anytime you want,” he promised. Those simple words reignited the fire inside her.

It happened any time he verbally expressed the silent conversations between them, when he comforted her, put her needs first, took care of her, reassured her, checked in with her… especially when he did it during sex. No one else would treat her as amazingly as Dean did. She felt so damn lucky Dean was actually the type of man who didn’t complain about the bare minimum, who didn’t need to be told, who knew how to read the room…

She gripped his sleeves tighter and moaned softly, he blinked in bewilderment at her reaction. “Ah, fuck,” she mumbled, wrapping her arms around his waist. He hummed curiously. “Why do I still want you to make me cum?” She complained, squeezing him.

“So… that’s a yes?” He chuckled, slightly lifting her up off the hood of the car.

“Yeah, definitely,” she conceded excitedly, but screeched hilariously when he easily pulled her body over his shoulder. “Dean! Wai- please,” she laughed, grasping the black robe tightly at his sides.

“Careful, honey, I’m just taking us to my room,” he laughed softly, then gave her ass a hard swat that caused her to choke on a laugh, a moan leaving her instead. “If we weren’t walking down these stairs, I’d finger your pretty little pussy the whole way there,” he informed her, sliding one hand up the back of her thigh to brush his fingers against the wet spot on her underwear.

“I’m so not against that..” she giggled, feeling the blood slowly begin to rush to her head and her face becoming hot.

“Don’t tempt me… I already have a plan..” He warned, a hint of a small in his deep voice.

“Oh.. that’s really cute, Dean,” she teased, swatting his own ass from her current position when he finally got to the last step at the bottom. He laughed, soft and sexy. “How long have you been planning this?” She wondered curiously, crossing her arms.

“Uh… since Valentine’s Day,” he admitted, almost shyly. She beamed… at his ass really, but that wasn’t the focus, as great as it looked with each swish of the very smooth robe.

“Valentine’s Day was great,” she sighed dreamily.

“Remember when romance made you cringe viscerally and the thought of sex made you—and I’m quoting you here—wanna vomit from your vagina?” She bursted out laughing, wiggling around uncontrollably as she tried to breath. He ended up lowering her from his shoulder so she faced him, her legs and arms wrapped tightly around him, clinging to him as she laughed into his neck.

“Well.. I’m glad you proved me wrong instead of letting me date some asshole who’d prove me right..” she said when she calmed down, then frowned at the mask on his face. Quickly, it was hot to stare at it, when he tilted his head and squeezed the bottom of her thighs.

There were so many unspoken words, some overdue that hung in the air. Both of them just somehow knew what they wanted to say, what they meant with their words or lack thereof. She broke the comfortable silence to ask, “how’d you come up with this?”

Dean snorted and kicked the door to his room open as he replied, “Charlie said she did the same for Stevie… I thought I’d give it a try….” He trailed off, then stared at the fake candles he’d turned on and the different flowers that decorated his room. There was some Halloween spirit, like the string of colourful, plastic spider LED lights that hung from the shelf above his bed. He set her down and turned her around to look at what he prepared for her. “But it’s up to you to decide whether this was a good idea or not.”

Everything in her body slowed down almost to a stop as she analysed and examined Dean’s room. A smile slowly crept onto her face and she was so happy she started tearing up. Dean had a habit of going all out…

She could see a couple of red tulips on his now-empty desk, the scent of orange blossoms wafted up her nose and she could see them placed randomly around the room. There was a set of daffodils on the table beside his door, a bundle of both pink and red carnations resting on the green couch. It was random, but cute.

Some things stood out, odd in the midst of a completely romantic setting, such as the green cooler that was usually in the Impala, a pot on his desk next to the flowers, an opened box on the table next to the daffodils… but other than those oddities, it was adorable and hot that he did all this.

“This is why you wanted me to run?” She asked softly with a huge smile on her face, glancing back at him.

“Yup,” he replied simply, exuding shyness. He walked around and took the bouquet of flowers he’d set in the middle of the bed. The bouquet of flowers that he prepared for her himself—well, with some help from Donna and the nice lady at the flower shop.

“Oh, come on, you’re supposed to be scary right now…” She became flustered and just stared at her favourite flowers—Lily-of-the-valleys and forget-me-nots—mixed together prettily in his hands. She looked up at him while chewing on her lip and noticed his anxious body language. “I’m kidding, I love it when you’re shy, but please… let me see you right now,” she murmured, reaching up to lower the hood of the robe.

He nodded to let her take the mask off, too, ignoring the smack it made when it fell to the ground. A blush had suffused across his face and she smiled lovingly at the sight of him, his cheeks visibly a shade pinker even in partial darkness. He leaned into her soft hand when her thumb brushed softly against his freckled cheekbone and he squeezed the flowers as his eyes fell shut.

“I love you,” she told him tenderly, then wrapped her other hand around the flowers to accept them. He didn’t let go of them, instead, he stepped closer to her, leaning forward and nuzzled into the side of her face. His lips brushed softly against her cheek and she smiled, her beating fast.

He wrapped his free arm around her and started to walk her backwards until they got to the side of the bed. “So…?” He asked when he pulled away, then bit his lip.

She looked up at him through her lashes and finally pulled the flowers away from him to admire them. Her gaze flickered down to them and she chuckled softly, brushing her fingers against the white and blue petals of the two different flowers. She lifted them up to her face, burying her nose into them, the scent of springtime filling up her senses and reminding her of Dean.

“I mean, clearly, I love them,” she finally answered and breathed them in once again.

“That’s really.. awesome,” he commented distractedly, taking the bouquet from her despite the dramatic frown that settled over her face. He set them down in the cute pot on his desk and she bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

He turned around with some bobby pins—after rifling through a drawer—and some baby’s breath in one hand. He stepped close to her and reached up to her hair, fixing it so that he could clip some of the pretty and small, white flowers on each side of her hair. His green eyes moved across her face lovingly, slowly taking in every inch of her. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered with a reverent smile.

She averted her gaze and pursed her smiling lips, nodding bashfully. A darker shade of pink settled on her cheeks and she cleared her throat, before glancing back up at Dean who looked way too smug all of a sudden. “I think you’ve had a long enough break…” he trailed off seductively, his fingertips ghosting up her hip, curving up to her back to undo the clasp of her bra. “Need anything? Water? Tea? A snack?” He murmured, leaning down to kiss her shoulder as he slowly lowered each bra strap.

“Uh, I’m… a bit thirsty,” she replied quietly, closing her eyes and letting her body move in sync with his. Her head tipped to the side so he could leave a trail of hot kisses across her chest. His mouth remained on her clavicle as his teasing fingers travelled down her body to pull her underwear off, leaving her only in those long, white thigh-highs.

“Lay down,” he ordered gently, bumping a finger under her chin affectionately. “I have another gift…” he trailed off, walking towards the couch where he had the green cooler which usually remained in the backseat of the impala.

“The water..?” She asked jokingly, climbing into the bed where there were Heliotropium and Cleome flowers scattered around. She picked a few up off the bed distractedly and watched him pull out a cold bottle of water with droplets of melted ice falling to the floor and around his hand. She bit her lip and looked back up at him, his gaze knowing and flirtatious.

He licked his lips and smiled, his eyes dropping down to her breasts and her parted legs. She opened her mouth, silently asking for water, like a little bird. His eyes flickered back up to her face. As he began unscrewing the cap, she closed her eyes and waited, feeling him standing with his knees pressed into his bed. He quietly closed the bottle up again.

He instead grabbed her chin and tilted it upwards, her lips remained parted, but she opened one eye curiously. He was taking too long, and she opened both eyes to watch him with confusion, glancing down at the closed water and then up at his face again. She swallowed when she saw the mischievous shimmer in his green eyes, her hands slowly moved up to his wrist as he towered above her.

He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, asking her to open up again while he collected saliva in his mouth. Her face heated up and her pussy clenched around nothing as she watched him. She even leaned closer to him and let him spit in her mouth when he was done. She stared him in the eyes, her body on fire with lust. Without hesitation, she closed her mouth, mixed her own saliva with his, and swallowed.

“Dean…” she whined softly, tugging him towards her. “Please,” she begged, taking the bottle from him to let it fall on the bed. He didn’t budge, so she led his hand down between her legs and slowly started to grind against his palm.

“Isn’t it better like this?” He asked, his voice gruff. He bowed to brush his lips against her parted mouth, breathing in her airy breaths. He pecked her lips and pulled away teasingly, so she’d chase his lips for another kiss, then dove back in for a slightly deeper kiss. “Depriving you… of my mouth… for so long… that you… end up wanting it… real badly… even when.. it’s already on yours…?” He asked between deep kisses, letting her use his hand for her pleasure.

She moved her hand away from his wrist to hold his face in her hands, taking control of the kiss. She bit down on his plump lip, tugged on it gently before she sucked softly, drawing a growling moan from him. “I could fucking devour you,” she mumbled against his lips.

“I know you can…” He smiled, rubbing quick circles on her clit, only to suddenly stop.

“No.. Please… fuck me,” she nearly sobbed.

“Soon,” he vowed hoarsely, randomly reaching out to tease her nipple with two fingers. He got the desired effect and smirked when she cursed under her breath, squirming impatiently and arching needily into his touch. “Lay down.. and have some water while I get things ready again, sweetheart.” He licked at his palm, tasting her arousal on his skin, and made his way to the box on the table by the door.

His body hid whatever it was from her, but as he turned around, she saw he had something wrapped in one of his hand towels and a bottle of lube in his other hand. She distractedly reached out for some water and took large amounts of it until her mouth regained its moisture. He was using the towel to clean it up or to dry it up. Once he was satisfied, Dean revealed a surprisingly artistic and large glass dildo.

“Whatcha think?” He asked with a grin, climbing into bed with her.

“It's pretty,” she replied, eyeing the long clear and pink glass.

“It goes with the heart one I bought for Valentine’s Day,” Dean explained, wiggling his brows. She nodded and giggled, eyeing the pink, crescent moon-shaped end of the dildo.

“Are you trying to tell me you want the glass tentacle one?” She teased. He faltered at her words and sputtered, denying any such thing. Despite being flustered, he snapped open the scentless lube with one hand and parted her legs. She eyed him knowingly, ignored the tickle of delicate flower petals on her skin, and relaxed on the bed.

“Can you get naked now, too?” She asked, focusing on his movements. He squeezed some lube onto the dildo and moved his hand up and down along the length of it to evenly spread the liquid.

“In a little,” he grinned cheekily, lowering himself down in the space between her open legs. He dropped the lube and the small, blue towel next to her body and kissed her knee. She smiled and bit her lip, extending her hand to pat the top of his head playfully.

He looked up at her through his thick lashes, narrowed his eyes at her, and trailed his lips up her thigh to plant a kiss on her clit. She breathed shakily and laughed softly, burying her fingers in his soft hair.

“Ready?” He asked, pushing two fingers into her pussy and teasing her clit with the smooth tip of the glass. She moaned a little ‘yes’ and her walls clamped down around his thick fingers. For good measure, he pushed a third finger into her, stretching her around his skilled fingers.

He pulled his fingers out of her, wrapped his arm around her thigh to spread her open. His wet fingers dug into her flesh and he leaned forward to flick her clit with the tip of his tongue as he gradually pushed the lubed up toy into her warm walls. The glass felt cold inside her and she gasped at the sensation. She tipped her head back when he started to pull out only to push in deeper, and slowly let herself fall back onto the flower-covered bed.

He circled her clit with his tongue, drooling onto her pussy, and made sure she knew he was only planning to push the toy halfway into her. She whined softly, her back arching and hips moving in an attempt to make him push in deeper.

“More,” she whispered, but mewled his name when he purposely and expertly pressed into the spongy tissue on the front of the inside of her vagina. He repeated the motion over and over and placed his mouth back on her clit, using his lips to toy with it to make her more frustrated.

“No, we’re starting like this,” he mumbled against her clit. His pink lips brushed gently on her clit and occasionally, he would lap on it up and down.

“S-starting?” She gasped, reaching up to cup her breast in one hand while keeping the other on the back of his head.

“Unless you wanna start deep first?” He asked, pushing the toy two inches deeper. Having a round middle, the dildo brushed both against her g-spot and something else inside her that made her cry out in pleasure. “That’s right, baby, you sound so goddamn beautiful,” he murmured, lifting his face to kiss the base of her stomach. “Want it deeper?” He inquired, deliberately trailing wet and hot kisses up her body. “There’s still a bit left.” He sat up on his legs and pushed the dildo in the rest of the way in so only the moon-shaped end remained outside of her.

She squirmed eagerly when it brushed against her cervix, her toes curling and legs spreading wider. He let go of the toy and sat up to pull his costume off. She opened her eyes at the sound of his clothes ruffling. She scrutinised him and lifted her body up by leaning against her elbow as he tortuously pulled the robe upwards and off his body. She reached down to pump the toy in and out of herself, casually staring up at him when he stood on his knees between her legs in his black boxer briefs.

He contemplated her hungrily, biting his lip.

“Wanna fuck yourself with it, baby?” He murmured and palmed at the tent in his boxers.

“I just wanted to show you how much I wanna cum again,” she panted out a laugh, stared down at his hand that rubbed at his erection over the cotton of his briefs, “take it all off, Dean.” He chuckled and looked away, then did as she asked. He got off the bed and pulled them down slowly, but instead of positioning himself between her legs again, he grabbed his pillow to place it under her hips.

“I already know how much you love dick,” he teased with a huge smile, waiting beside her on the bed to place the pillow where he knew she would appreciate it.

“Yours,” she corrected, and stopped pushing the glass in and out of herself to lift her hips just enough for him to push it beneath her. He kissed the top of her head and then her forehead, and regained control of the movement of the toy.

“Tell me what you want,” he asked quietly, kissing her shoulder. He was still sitting beside her and searched for her lips, for a kiss. She laughed softly, turned to face him instead of at the hand shoving the toy into her.

“I want you,” she murmured against his cheek. She trailed her lips over to his and kissed him gently, “but right now, I want you to show me what you had planned for me tonight.” He sucked on her bottom lip and teased it with his tongue before pushing it into her warm mouth.

He temporarily stopped pleasuring her with the dildo, kept it shoved inside her to circle her clit with his thumb. She held the side of his face to angle his mouth for a more passionate kiss, then reached down to wrap her forefinger and thumb around the head of his cock when he deepened the kiss the way she wanted.

“Can you cum for me at least three times tonight?” She asked, kissing down his neck and sucked softly on his pulse until she left a mark. He moaned loudly, sliding his leg beneath hers as he spread his. “Cum like this—on my hand, then in my mouth, and then inside me…” she explained, her pussy clenching around the slippery, glass dildo.

She licked and nibbled on his neck and thumbed the leaking tip of his cock, pulling away from him to admire the pleasure on his pretty face. She smeared the precum over the tip and trailed her fingertips down teasingly to massage his balls instead.

“Fuck.. I’ll do that, baby,” he agreed. She kissed him in response and let go of his dick when he started to move in between her legs again. He leaned over her and gave her a smug little smirk that she couldn’t resist. She smiled up at him shyly and spit in her hand before gripping his cock again.

He immediately started up again, mercilessly fucking her with the toy so she nearly became unfocused on his cock in her hand. He kissed her deeply, teeth clashing, tongues licking, sucking and biting passionately at each other lips and tongues. She synchronised each jerk of her hand with the thrust of the dildo inside her, swallowing his grunts and throaty moans.

She squeezed his cock at the same time that she clenched around the toy, and snaked her free hand behind his head again. The sounds of their pleasure echoed through the concrete walls. Her quiet moans increased and her gasps became more ragged. It wouldn’t be the first time she came without clitoral stimulation.

She still ached for more, even at the edge an orgasm. She moved away from his mouth with a loud moan, but continued to jerk him off sloppily. His hips moved forward into her hand and he began to kiss down her neck, his wet lips desperately sucking and kissing at her skin. In between the hot sounds he made, he growled her name and praised her, verbalising all the things he loved about her.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart,” he murmured, shallowly pumping the dildo inside her. Knowing her body, the tip of the dildo tapped pleasurably against her cervix, the rest of the toy was angled to rub at her g-spot and other pleasure zones inside her. She grunted softly and roughly pulled at the strands of his hair despite the delicious graze of his teeth against her pulse.

“Please, cum with me,” she moaned, clamping down on the now-hot glass inside her. “I wanna hear you, Dean,” she begged breathlessly, his cock throbbing hotly and twitching in her soft hand. He grazed her earlobe with his teeth and hummed deeply, sounding almost like a growl as he spilled on her hand and her skin. She squeezed him tightly in her hand, holding him close as she orgasmed, murmuring his name like a quiet worship.

She trembled beneath him and guided his wrist to move the toy out of her. “Fuck, my poor pussy…” she whined with a laugh, letting go of his soft dick. She pushed him off her gently to squeeze her thighs together tightly.

“You okay?” He asked with concern, dropping kisses along her face.

“Oh. Yeah… I just need to come again,” she admitted, allowing him to part her legs with a hand. He chuckled at her and took the dildo from between her legs which was visibly coated in her come.

“Yummy,” he grinned down at her, licking the glass. She watched with darkened eyes, her breath catching when he sucked at the tip. It was new and erotic to watch him do that.

“That’s so hot, Dean,” she moaned, “please.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, and collected his cum from her stomach and pelvis with the dildo. “Well, I can use this beauty to shove my cum inside you. D’you want that?” He asked with a playful smile, biting his lip.

“Yes.”

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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

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From yesterday's drawing session with @theholeyness, @akidachi/ @akiradachi, @geosaurus and @wicked-twin-twister ! Aki in the top left drew more Annabelle and Dean from fnv and also the little computer guy, Holey in (mostly)top right(but also the sketches going lower) did the fun assortment of Draco Cantus, Hades, Shiba, Cross, Joshua, Megumi and Tutenstein (last two for me!! :D ), Geosaurus drew the extremely cool original demon character in the lower left corner, and Wicked-Twin-Twister drew the happy birthday boy Neku in the lower right. I took the stripe in the middle and filled it with Twewy

[k-slla]

Birthday Wishes

A/N: This is kind of a sequel to New Traditions, but it can be read as a standalone. Square being filled for @jacklesversebingo : "Don't think I'm letting you get away with that, darling." will be in bold

Warnings: 18+ONLY, Threesome, Shower sex, PinV, Voyeurism(I think), Oral(m recieving), Cum swallowing, language, fluff and bantering and aftercare

Pairing: Dean x Fem!Reader x Sam (NO WINCHEST)

All mistakes are mine! All kind feedback is appreciated and I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it for this special occasion we have today! 🤍

WC: ~3.1k | My Masterlist

Happy Birthday to Dean!🥂😍

“Be quiet! You're going to wake him up!” You whisper yelled to Sam behind Dean's bedroom door. 

“You be quiet! Isn't that kind of our plan?” 

You shot daggers at him. You balanced a lavishly decorated pie on your hands. You knew that Dean cherished the taste more than how it looked, but since it was his birthday, you took your sweet time in the morning at baking and decorating it. Everything had to be perfect.

“Oh, shut up.” You grumbled. “Open the door.” You ordered Sam. With a roll of his eyes, he quietly opened the door, letting you enter first. Both of you stopped in front of his bed, where Dean was still sound asleep, slightly snoring. You looked at Sam, quietly mouthing to him. “On three.” He nodded in agreement and you started to count silently.

On three, both of you shouted from the top of your lungs. “Happy Birthday, Dean!” Which was a very, very bad decision on your part, because you had forgotten who Dean is - a hunter, who’s ready to attack at any given moment, but he gladly reminded you that. “AAAAHHHH!” Dean woke up with a scream and now there was his gun pointed at you, accompanied by his tired, grumpy gaze. You and Sam both quickly ducked down to the floor, away from the line of fire. “It’s us, babe! Please… please put away your gun!” You tried to control yourself not to laugh at his reaction. 

“What were you two thinking that would happen when you’d wake me up like that?” Dean uncocked his gun and put it back under his pillow. Staying still on the floor, you raised your hand, holding the pie high up in the air. “Sorry! We come bearing gifts!” Slowly both of your heads rose up from behind the bed. Seeing Dean sit up with a wide grin on his still sleepy face, both Sam and you repeated yourselves with smiles. “Happy Birthday, Dean!” 

You climbed onto Dean’s lap, pulling him into a slow kiss. “You really didn’t have to do this, but thank you, baby..” He whispered against your lips, intertwining his fingers through your hair. With a low hum, you pulled away reluctantly. Carefully placing the pie between you two, you pulled 3 small candles and a lighter out of your apron pocket. “I didn’t find any of those number candles and I figured that 45 of those small ones would be difficult to fit on here. So..” You put the candles in the middle of the pie together. “...I settled on three!” you said with a smile and lighted them up. Sam had sat down on the other side of the bed. “Make a wish, brother.” You both stared at him excitedly. Dean looked at you with an raised eyebrow and a cocky half-smile, before blowing out the candles. 

He put the pie to the bedside table and pulled you closer. “Want to know what I wished for?” Dean whispered softly into your ear, and followed it with gentle pecks down your neck, completely ignoring that Sam was also sitting there. You couldn’t help but hum when his lips left a hot trail of kisses on your clavicle. “What if you tell me that and it wouldn’t come true?” You whimpered quietly when you felt his fingers dig into your hips. Dean pulled away and looked at both you and Sam in turns. “I hope that won't be a problem today.” He grinned. You adjusted yourself on his lap so you were now straddling him. “In that case, we're all ears.”

Dean pulled you closer to kiss you again. “It's related to something we started in November. Remember?” 

You smiled against his lips. “Mmm…Vaguely. You might have to refresh my memory. Or just tell me what you were thinking for today.” 

After your birthday, the three of you came to an agreement. A celebratory threesome on each of your birthdays. Only on birthdays. And of course, all of you had to be okay with that on the day of.

“We had a lot of fun on your birthday, Y/N, didn't we? But today, I just want to watch.” He grabbed your hips and shifted on the bed, so you were pinned under him. It was so sudden, you couldn't even make a sound. “Watch? Really?” Sam asked through a smile. Dean turned his predatory gaze away from your face to his brother. “Yes..in the shower.”

From past experiences you and Dean had had when having the occasional threesomes to keep everything excited and new in your sex life, you knew that Dean had gotten voyeuristic, so to speak. He loved taking care of you himself, but he also enjoyed seeing you getting pleasured by another man or woman, whoever had joined you for the night. And he knew you liked it when he watched you from the sidelines. It was a win-win-win situation to all of you. 

You looked at Sam to see his reaction. “Don't look at me, whatever you want, Y/N.” 

You wiggled yourself out from Dean's arms and looked at the boys, grinning from ear to ear, barely able to contain your excitement. “When?”

To your dismay, it was not immediately after he woke up. I need coffee, babe, after that wake up call you two gave me, Dean had said. You were completely bored out of your mind after breakfast. Now, Sam and Dean were reading in the library, or doing research or something like that. You tried that too. Having chosen an interesting looking book about some famous exorcisms(not that you were actually going to read it), you sat down in the arm chair in the corner of the library. That spot was actually strategically planned by you. You could've sat at the table with them, but then you wouldn't have the view you had now. Both of them sat at the table on either side of it, facing each other, an array of books between them. Sam was sitting with his back towards you, giving you an excellent chance to admire his muscular shoulders and back, that tensed up from time to time when he found something interesting that he had to share with you. So you had only Sam's backside to admire, but Dean? Dean was in a much better position for you to stare at. The concentration was clear on his face. His eyes were focused on whatever he was reading in the moment, strong brows furrowing and his nose was scrunched just a little tiny bit, in the most adorable way that only he was able to. 

He leaned onto his forearms, biceps bulging in his gray hoodie. Those arms…He could throw you around like a ragdoll, if only given a chance to do so. Occasionally, you didn't mind a little manhandling in the bedroom. You loved the fact that this 6’1 handsome as hell hunter was able to easily overpower you. 

“I can feel you staring.” You were caught. You sank into the chair, pulling the book up to hide your face. 

“I don't know what you're talking about. I'm reading a very interesting book here. Definitely don't have time to stare at you two.” You heard a chair scraping against the floorboards, followed by heavy steps. Dark shadow was cast over you, but you refused to look up at him. 

“And here I thought you just liked the view. I guess I was wrong.” You bit your bottom lip and finally turned your gaze up at him. “Somebody better call the news station; the Great Dean Winchester admits he is wrong.” 

Dean stared down at you with a devilish smirk. “Don't think I'm letting you get away with that, darling. You have a three second head start, then you know what's going to happen.” You knew you were now in trouble. But it didn't stop you from turning it into your advantage.

You quickly got up from the chair, throwing the book down and bolted away from him. “One!” You peeled off your shirt, leaving yourself only in your bra. “Two! What are you doing?” He couldn't hold back his laughter. “Catch me and you'll see!” 

You unbuttoned your jean shorts, but removing them on the move turned out to be too acrobatic for you, so you face-planted, not so gracefully, onto the hallway floor and bursted out laughing. “Oww!” 

“Three! I'm coming!” You heard him closing in on you. 

“No, Dean! I slipped!” You were laughing so hard it started to hurt your stomach and you couldn't breathe properly. You tried your best to crawl away from him, but he caught up quickly. Suddenly, Dean pulled you up from the floor and threw you over his shoulder. “No! Dean..pleasee. Put me down!” Your shrikes were echoing through the Bunker. 

“What are you doing?” Sam had joined you in the hallway. You were hitting Dean's ass with all your might, but it had no effect on him. Instead, he started to lightly pinch your inner thighs, making you wiggle from the ticklish feeling.

“Dean, you are mean! Sam, help!” You whined out. 

“Y/N, baby, you started it.” He threw a look over his shoulder at Sam who was now following you curiously. 

“Sam will have his part soon.” 

Dean held you tightly in his grip and brought you to the Bunker’s communal shower. He finally put you down and gave you a long look. “You’re still up for it?” You ran your fingers through his hair down to the zipper of his hoodie, slowly pulling it open. “I've been ready since morning. Almost thought I'd have to start solo.” You smirked at him, pushing his hoodie off his shoulders. Dean's hands slid lower to your shorts, finishing what you'd started and pushed them over round ass down.

He kissed you slowly, and you instinctively parted your lips to let him in. Dean's hands cupped your ass cheeks, his blunt fingernails digging into your skin. You just couldn't help but moan.

“Uhh, I can let you two just be, you know?” Sam said a little awkwardly. “No, stay.” You and Dean said at the same time. “I mean, if you want to of course.” Dean added, and turned you to face Sam, while he stayed behind you. Sam pulled off his flannel and turned on one of the showers. 

“Guess we know his answer.” Dean whispered against your neck, making goosebumps travel all over your body. 

“As I said, today I want to just watch. Are you okay with that?” Dean made sure you hadn't changed your mind about this. You were shuddering when you felt his hot breath on your skin and you locked your eyes with Sam's. “I want this, I'm sure, Dean.” 

He slid the straps of your bra down your shoulders and unclasped it, letting it fall off completely. “Well, we better get you ready for him then.” He slipped his fingers into your panties, straight over your sensitive bud, making you gasp loudly in his arms. The other hand started to massage your breast. “Ohh, fuuckk..” You had already drenched your panties, so there was no question whether you were ready for Sam or not. 

Sam had undressed himself too, leaving only Dean in his clothes. He pulled a condom out of his back pocket and threw it to Sam. “Wrap it up.” He grinned widely. 

When you and Dean ever started thinking about having a threesome, both of you agreed that one, non-negotiable term for both of you was no unprotected penetration with another person. Not for you, not for him. You were on the pill anyways, but the only person you still truly trusted with your body was Dean and vice versa. It didn't even matter if they had proof that they were clean. If they had a problem with that? Well, their loss of an awesome night.

Dean nudged you towards Sam and the shower, and began to remove his own clothing too. Excitement was building in your lower stomach and your heart had started pounding. Sam stood under the shower, water running in streams down his chiseled body. You stopped in front of him and pulled him down to a searing kiss. Slowly, not breaking the kiss, Sam turned you around so you were now under the hot stream of water. You quickly pulled away from him to wet your hair completely.

Sam's hands started exploring your body, making you feel like he knew it better than yourself. His fingers dug into your skin while his lips moved along your jaw down to your neck, leaving a hot trail in their wake. You were absolutely amazed by both men, how considerate they were with you. And they were blessed. “Fuck, Sammy..please. I need it. Just…please..ahhh..fuck me.” You weren't holding back on noises and moans. Today you didn't have to.

“How do you want me?” Sam whispered against your neck. You moved out of the water again and stepped in front of Sam, turning your back at him again. 

In the meantime, Dean had sat down on a chair across the shower against the wall. He sat there in his glorious nakedness, absentmindedly stroking his cock. His eyes were closed for now, but it was almost as if he felt your gaze on him; they opened in a flash. 

You heard the foil packet open behind you and a second later Sam gently pushed himself into you. You let your head hang forward and were bracing yourself on the wall by one hand. 

You hummed quietly at Sam's slow thrusts, without even realizing it. You were completely consumed by pleasure from him moving inside you as he softly continued to caress your back.

Dean’s low chuckle brought you back to reality. “You really like that, don't you, sweetheart?” Dean's lust blown eyes locked with yours. “I certainly like the view I have from here.” 

You were already so pent up from the morning, you couldn't make any louder noise than just sigh. “Oh.. he's.. he's good, Dean..so..fucking good..” your hands started to slip on the wall, when Sam’s moves quickened up, but he swiftly placed one arm around you to hold you steady. 

Dean was staring at you under his lashes and you refused to look away. “Y/N, touch yourself.” He asked quietly and you moved your arm between your legs, sliding your fingers over your bud in circles. You could immediately feel yourself closing in to the edge of the sweet release. 

“Dean, you know I can't go on long like this.” You cried out, and shut your eyes, but still continued moving your hand. Sam was groaning quietly into your ear when your pussy clenched around him. “Fuck, you're killing me, Y/N.” 

“Who said I wanted you to?” Dean slowly got up from the chair and walked towards you, still jerking himself off. You reached out to him to pull him closer, but he took a step back teasingly. “Dean!” You whined loudly. “Come here..” 

He finally stood in front of you and you pulled him into a sloppy kiss and pushed his hand away from his cock, claiming it for your own. “I'm com…fuckk!” you pulled away from your kiss and your head fell onto Dean's chest. Your legs started trembling from the pleasure and you felt almost lightheaded, but you didn't stop moving your hand. With few last hard thrusts, Sam stopped inside you with a groan. He pulled slowly out and you immediately sank onto your knees down to the floor in front of Dean. With the intention of sucking him off, you took his dick deep into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks out. His fingers intertwined in your hair as started to buck his hips forward into you. “Oh, sweetheart, you're so perfect. So..good.” Dean softly moaned looking down on you. You took care of Dean, slowly and deliberately moaning every now and then, while Sam showered. “I'll let you two lovebirds be.” He grinned after finishing and left you and Dean to enjoy yourselves in the bathroom. 

“Shit, Y/N, I'm close. Are you gonna swallow?” Dean asked out of breath and you nodded enthusiastically. Keeping the constant eye contact, he started to drive deeper into your throat. You held your breath until you saw that he was on his last moves before you pulled away and let his cock sit on the tip of your tongue, hot seed spurting onto your tongue and lips. “Fuck!” Dean grunted hard and slowly slid back into your mouth, letting you lick him clean. You swallowed every drop you caught and took a deep breath before getting up.

You looked into Dean's eyes before leaning in to kiss him. His taste was still lingering on your tongue when you licked his lips gently to get access to his mouth to share it with him. You cupped his cheek with one hand, the other one raked through his damp hair trying to pull him even closer to you than he already was, but Dean held you tenderly close to his body, keeping his kisses soft and sweet.

“I'm cold.” You smiled against his lips. He pulled you tighter into his warm embrace and placed a kiss onto your temple. “Let's get you into the shower then.” He turned the water on again and let it run over your body to warm you up. He then reached to your left to grab your shampoo to wash your hair. You immediately protested when you saw how much he squirted out of the bottle. “Babe! Not so much! You're wasting it!” You tried to hold back your laugh when you scolded him, but seeing his green eyes widen up when it started overflowing his palm was just too funny. You managed to catch half of it and rubbed it into his hair before he could maneuver out of your way.

“Hey! It's a girly shampoo!” 

“Well, it's your own fault. I can't put it back into the bottle, can I?” You reached up again and started to massage his scalp with your fingers, making him relax and close his eyes in delight. “Feels so good, darling.” He said quietly before opening his eyes again and massaging the shampoo through your hair in return.

You felt like you were almost melting in his arms from the satisfaction and relaxation. You closed your arms around his neck and kissed his lips softly, whispering against them:  “Happy birthday, Dean! I love you.” He smiled and sighed into the kiss. “Thank you, baby. I love you more..” You exhaled contently and rested your head against his chest, feeling happy to have found Dean, to be by your side now and for the better years to come.

Tags(Always open): @jackles010378 @cevansbaby-dove @deanwinchestersgirl87 @alternativeprincess94 @il0vebeingdelulu

[1000roughdrafts]

hey! if you take requests, i’m just wondering if you’d consider a sister winchester one? maybe her at 18? i love your writing so much, and i’d really love something like a hurt reader/dying reader?? something super angsty ahaha

Oh, for sure! Angst is my favorite! (as I'm sure you can tell by the word count lol) sorry it’s taken me like 3 years to get to this 😞

A/N: this was meant to post 2/28/24 because I wanted to ease into coming back with an every other week posting schedule BUT I’m just too excited and antsy for that lol also it’s set in Season 1, Episode 1

Thank you by the way!

Title: Please Wake Up

Warnings: swearing, graphic description of injury and illness, blood angst, hurt/dying reader, depiction of medical procedures, takes place in season 1 episode 1 :)

Word Count: 5.8k

Being third born after two boys, Y/N always felt like she had big shoes to fill. Despite her best efforts to impress the man, she never really formed a bond with John. Her next role model was Dean, who became more of a father to her than John ever was or could be.

Until her eleventh birthday, Dean did her hair into pigtails every day, partly because he hadn't learned to do any other hairstyle but mostly because he thought it was the cutest on her. He'd pack her and Sam's lunch with snacks he'd bought from vending machines and even pretend to take her on hunts because he knew she wanted to be exactly like him.

When she wasn't learning about monsters and guns with Dean, she spent time with Sam. He'd help her with her homework or play board and card games. They have as much in common as Y/N and Dean. Neither Sam nor Y/N got along with John, and neither remember their mothers. 

Y/N's mother was a woman John met in Nebraska three years after the boy's mom died. The affair only lasted a night, but to his surprise, he heard from her again six months later with the news that they had a baby girl on the way. John was shocked and heartbroken. He couldn't bear the thought of bringing another child into the life of hunting.

John kept his distance, adamant that Y/N would be better off without him, and when another three months of silence went by, he figured that Y/N's mother came around to see it his way. Unfortunately, her pregnancy was complicated, as was the birth, and it turned out that having Y/N is what killed her. 

When John got the call, he had half a mind to let the state take custody of little Y/N. Indeed, they would provide her with a better life than he could. John decided to meet her at least, and when he laid eyes on her perfect little face, he couldn't bring himself to abandon her. 

Y/N was barely sixteen when Sam left for college. While she was proud of him for putting himself first, it broke her heart for him to go the way he did. She missed him more and more every day, often keeping Dean up at night with her sniffling and crying. After a while, he would get into bed next to her when the tears started and sing Hey Jude while playing with her hair to help her fall asleep. That went on for another six months before she finally started to fall asleep without crying. 

For her seventeenth birthday, Dean came across a necklace he'd wanted to get for her since Sam left. From his wallet, he took out the only picture he had of the sibling trio, representing the single moment of their life where John treated them like regular kids, and using his pocket knife, he carved around their heads and bodies to match the exact size of the locket, smiling proudly at himself when it fit perfectly. 

Now at eighteen, she stands next to the Impala while Dean lugs their bags out, drops them into the trunk, and slams it shut. He heads for the driver's door but stops when he realizes Y/N hasn't opened hers yet. Eyebrows raised, he twirls a finger in the air as if to say, 'Let's get a move on.'

"Are you ever gonna teach me how to drive, Dean?" she asks. "I mean, you've got to, you know?" 

"No, I don't. Get in," Dean says. She does so with a huff. Dean checks the mirrors before backing out of their parking spot. Turning to Y/N, he says, "Besides, as long as I'm around, you don't need to," but softens his face into a smile when he looks at her. "Cause there's no way in Hell I'll ever let you drive my car." 

Y/N lets out a soft chuckle. "It doesn't have to be this car, Dean!" She rolls the window down, letting the cool breeze hit her face. "What happens if we get separated and I'm being chased by… I don't know, something that has super speed, and my only way back to you is to steal a car and -" 

"Stop. First of all, you should know that I'd never put you in that kind of danger," Dean says, disgusted by the mere thought. He lets out a long sigh. "I'll teach you," he says, looking at her gleaming smile. He tries his damnedest to see her for the adult she's becoming, but he only sees the happy baby in pull-ups he used to feed marshmallows and jello to on a motel room floor. "Just… not yet, okay?" 

She scoffs, "Most people learn to drive when they're only fifteen. I mean, you took me to freaking Vegas with a fake ID for my birthday, for fuck's sake!" 

"I said not yet, Y/N!" he says, shooting her the 'dad look' he's been perfecting since she was four. 

"Fine," she grumbles. She clasps her hands, "So I was looking through news articles, and there seem to be vamps in the next town. Should we be on that?" 

Dean clears his throat and needlessly adjusts the rear-view mirror. "Actually, kiddo, we're on something else right now." He keeps his head straight but glances at her out of the corner of his eyes. Whispering, he says, "We're gonna go get Sammy." 

Y/N's eyes widen as her head whips to look at him. "What?" 

He keeps his eyes on the road, "yeah, uh, with Dad missing... we could use the help," he says, gripping the steering wheel tighter. 

"But Sam's at college!" Y/N scoffs, "he wanted out!" 

"He abandoned us!" he shouts, shaking his head at himself when he notices her shoulders tense. Her eyes peer into her lap, where her hands lie folded. “Look Y/N/N, I just… I can't shake this awful feeling that something is wrong." He waits for a response from her, but she only nods with thin lips. She tunes him out and focuses on the wind hitting the window. "I gotta make sure they're okay," he says softly. 

Over the years, Y/N has learned to trust Dean's intuition, but right now, it just feels like he's being selfish. She opts to stay quiet, even if it makes a long drive longer.

Y/N jolts awake at the sound of the trunk slamming shut. She takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She doesn't see Dean next to her, so she scans her surroundings through squinted eyes, hoping for a clue about her whereabouts. She finds a gas station receipt in her lap and flips it over to see the scribbles of Dean's handwriting telling her to 'stay put or else.' She rolls her eyes, crumpling it into a ball to throw it into the backseat.

She hears the voices of two familiar men, one of whom she hasn't heard in two years. Her heart races, and she fumbles with the seat belt, trying to unhook it with shaky hands. She jumps out of the car and turns in time to see Dean leaning on the back of the Impala.

"It's a law school interview," Sam says, "and it's my whole future on a plate," he glares.

"Law school?" Dean asks with a smirk. Y/N walks over to stand next to Dean. He shoots a quick, acknowledging glance her way. Sam's eyes shift between Dean and Y/N, softening when they land on Y/N, "so we got a deal or not?" he asks flatly.

Dean says nothing but lightly nods his head. Y/N runs towards Sam, nearly knocking him over with a hug.

"Y/N/N," he smiles. Pulling her even closer to him, he wraps his arms tightly around her back and kisses the top of her head. "I missed you," he whispers.

"I missed you, too," she says, her eyes welling up with tears. Sam looks at Dean just in time to see him press his lips together with an 'I told you so' in his eyes. Sam shakes his head, squinting at Dean just before he lets go of Y/N.

"Kay, I gotta put a bag together," he sighs, "I'll be right back."

He turns to head for the door, and Y/N doesn't take her eyes off him until he disappears into the building. She blinks her eyes and turns to face Dean. He pushes himself off the back of the car and silently heads for the driver seat.

Sam and Y/N sit in the car at a gas station while Dean heads for snacks. Sam opens his door but quickly looks over his shoulder to check on Y/N. This is when he notices the box of tapes sitting next to her. Intrigued, he shifts in the chair and asks her to hand them to him. Y/N is hesitant because it's hard to say how Dean would react, and she's always hated being in the middle of their fights but does so anyway. Sam rests his tongue between his lips as he takes the box from Y/N. Stretching his legs out of the car, he rests the box in his lap to filter through them.

"Hey," Dean says from behind the Impala, his mouth wrapped around a candy bar, "either of you want breakfast?" he asks, holding a soda and a bag of chips.

Y/N waits for Sam to answer first. "No, thanks," he says, glancing Dean's way momentarily.

"I do," Y/N smiles.

"So how'd you pay for that stuff? Three of you still running credit card scams?" Sam says, going back to looking through the cassettes.

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," Dean says, putting the gas nozzle back into the pump.

Y/N chimes in, "Besides, all we do is apply," she shrugs, "it's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the applications this time?" he asks, swinging his legs back inside the car and closing the door behind him.

"Uh, Burt Aframian," Y/N answers. Dean gets into the seat, handing Y/N the drink and chips. "Thank you," she chirps.

"And his son Hector," Dean adds, "scored two cards out of the deal."

"Sounds about right. I swear, man. You've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

Dean frowns, nearly offended. "Why?"

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes, and two," Sam holds one up, "Black Sabbath? Motorhead?" he says, dropping them to grab another, "Metallica?" he laughs, "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock," he says as Dean rips the Metallica tape from his hand with a glare.

"Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape into the player with a tight smile, "driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cake-hole," he says, dropping the empty case into the box. "Isn't that right, Y/N?" he smirks into the rear-view mirror and smiles when he sees her roll her eyes.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam scolds, "it's Sam, okay?"

Turning the volume up, Dean cocks his head to the side, "sorry. I can't hear you. The music's too loud," he says with a slight chuckle.

Crashing a crime scene where police are still investigating is just another Saturday with Dean for Y/N, but seeing Sam's eyes widen at the box of Dean's fake IDs calls attention to how out of the norm this life is. Dean makes wise-ass comments to the cops, as usual, and Sam stomps on Dean's foot. Dean responds by smacking Sam's head as they bicker on the way back to the car, but Y/N can't help but grin from ear to ear.

Even when her brothers are arguing, Y/N couldn't possibly be happier. Today is her first hunt with both of her brothers and the first time in far too long since the three of them had been together for any reason.

They make their way to find Amy, who they learn is the girlfriend of the victim from listening to the cops on the bridge. They stop her while she's putting up missing posters, and after lying about being distant relatives of her boyfriend, they ask if she'd be willing to answer some questions to find him.

… "It's kind of this local legend," Amy's friend says after a few minutes of chatting. Massaging her thumb with her other hand, she continues, "This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Dean glances over at Sam and Y/N, who listen intently, "Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

At a local library, Dean searches the archive page for any murders on Centennial Highway with no results. Sam shoves Dean's chair, and when it rolls back, he scoots his chair to the computer to take over, earning him a slap from Dean. After replacing 'murder' with 'suicide,' a news article pops up.

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river," Sam reads.

"Does it say why she did it?" Y/N asks, scooting her chair closer to Sam to try and read the screen.

"Yeah," Sam says.

"What?" Dean says with raised eyebrows.

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently, her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing." Sam lets out a breath, "both die," he says in a whisper.

The air grows thick around them, and Y/N frowns. "That's terrible," she says, shaking her head.

"'Our babies were gone,'" Sam reads, "'and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch."

"Hmm," Dean points to the picture on the screen, "that bridge look familiar to you?"

They hit the bridge at nightfall. Crickets sing to water drumming against the rocks as it rushes under their feet. The clouds hang low in the sky, giving the air around them a haze.

"So," Dean says, peering over the bridge at the water, "this is where Constance took the swan dive," he says, leaning against the rail next to Y/N. 

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asks in disbelief, looking over at Dean. 

"Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him," Dean shrugs, turning to walk down the bridge. 

Sam turns to follow. "Okay, so now what?" he says, forcing a breath through his nose. Y/N walks right next to him, still scared to let him out of her sight. 

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while," Dean grumbles. 

Sam stops walking, "Dean," he says, raising his hands before dropping them. "I told you. I've gotta be back by Monday." 

"Monday," Dean says, pivoting to make grueling eye contact with Sam, but only turns his body enough that he's still facing the bridge's railing. "Right," he says, shaking a finger, "the interview." The bridge creaks under him as he turns the rest of the way. 

"Yeah," Sam nods. 

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you?" Dean says, shifting his weight between his feet. "You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Dean asks, the animosity growing with each word. 

Sam shrugs, "maybe. Why not?" 

Dean's voice roughens, "Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know the things you've done?" 

Sam takes a few threatening steps toward Dean, "No, and she's not ever going to know," he scowls. 

"Well, that's healthy," Dean sneers. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later, you're going to have to face up to who you really are," he says, turning around to continue walking. 

Sam huffs, "Who's that?" 

"You're one of us," Dean shrugs, a hand gesturing towards Y/N. 

"Hey! Leave me out of this," Y/N grumbles from ahead. 

"No," Sam says, speed walking towards Dean, "I'm not like you," he says, turning around as he stops in front of Dean. "This is not going to be my life."

Dean keeps his jaw tight. "Well, you have a responsibility to..." 

Y/N feels the tension rising and tries to plead with them to stop arguing, but they ignore her. "Guys!" she shouts again. 

"To Dad? And his crusade?" Sam scoffs. "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like! And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her," he shakes his head, "Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back." 

Dean grips Sam's shirt and swings him around and against the bridge's railing with a clunk at Sam's weight against it. 

Y/N flips around and runs to their side, "Dean, what are you doing? Are you crazy?" She panics. But Dean continues to ignore her as he glares at Sam. 

After a long, breathless pause, Y/N shouts again, "Dean!" 

The misty air is still between them, and even the wind seems too frightened to move. It's as if the world is put on pause.

Dean's eyebrows raise, and he keeps a firm grip on Sam's shirt. Under his breath, he says, "Don't talk about her like that." 

He throws Sam's jacket from his hands and takes a few stabilizing steps backward in one movement. Y/N runs to check on Sam, who shakes her off with an "I'm fine" that sounds muffled compared to the pounding of her heart. A few tears escape her when she looks over at Dean walking away from them, but she doesn't realize she's crying until the taste of salt hits her lips. 

Her eyes return to Sam, shaking her head in disgust that Dean would treat him like that. She knew it had been rough for Dean since Sam left for college, but hell, it's been hard on her, too, and she's not throwing anyone against the side of a bridge!

Dean halts, “Sam. Y/N!” he calls. Y/N turns with a full-body glare, but her eyes widen when she sees a woman in a long, white dress standing on the bridge's railing. The woman looks over at them, and Y/N can see the resemblance to the picture of Constance. The woman's hair and dress sway in the wind, and she keeps her eyes on them as she allows herself to drop from the ledge. 

With a grunt, Sam rushes to the railing to look over it for her, Dean and Y/N not far behind him. 

"Where'd she go?" Dean barks. 

Breathless, Sam pushes out an "I don't know." 

The roar of the Impala's engine turning on startles them, their bodies whipping around just in time to see the headlights flick on. 

"What the-," Dean says. 

"Who's driving your car?" Y/N asks. 

Without taking his eyes off of the car, Dean pulls his keys from his pocket and jingles them, stealing Sam and Y/N's attention to them in unison. The engine revs, drawing back their wide eyes to the Impala. The tires squeal as the car begins to speed towards them. 

"Y/N, go! Go!" Dean says with a hand on each of his siblings, spinning them around to run in the opposite direction. Dean presses his hand firmly on Y/N's back as they run, keeping himself between her and the car. They run as fast as they can until Dean can feel the Impala's breath on his ankles, and he guides them towards the bridge's railing. 

Y/N's heart feels like a brick in her chest, weighing her down at the thought of jumping over. "I can't," she says in a breath, and all in a split second, she feels like her feet are cemented into the bridge's planks as Sam jumps over. "No!" she screams as Dean grips onto her arm, pulling them both over the bridge. 

Sam hangs from the ledge of the bridge, shouting for Y/N as her screams are washed out with a big splash. "Y/N!" he calls again from the back of his throat, climbing up the bridge to get on his knees. He looks over the bridge, scanning for Y/N and Dean, calling out when he sees his brother, "Dean! You alright?" 

"I'm super," Dean grumbles with an outstretched thumbs up. Lying on his back, half submerged in the muddy water. 

"I can't see Y/N! Where's Y/N?" Sam panics, and when the words hit Dean's ears, he springs to his feet in a second. He whirls around in a circle as he searches for her. 

"Y/N!" Dean shouts, wiping mud from his face. He paces around, "Y/N, where are you?" he yells, half-expecting her to pop out from behind a bush to scare him. 

The world spins around him for a moment, utterly void of sound aside from a ringing in his ears as Dean tries to comprehend what is happening. He closes his eyes tight, shaking his head to clear away the fog that covers him. They open onto the water, catching the moon's glimmer reflecting off something. He runs towards it, hopping from rock to rock until he finds Y/N's broken locket stuck in algae. Dean picks it up with shaky hands, recalling how her face lit up when he first gave it to her. She'd be devastated to see its state now. Fear spills down him in an icy chill.

His head swivels around in search of her. Tears, that he refuses to let fall, poke at his eyes when he sees her lying face down in the water, a bloody rock next to her.

“Y/N!” He shouts, rushing to her. He kneels to pull her out of the water by her shoulder, turning her over so that her back rests against his knee. "Y/N!" he yells again, and when she doesn't respond, he grabs her by the waist and hoists her over his shoulder. He grunts, shifting his weight before jogging for the shore. "Sam! I got her!" 

"Dean! Is she okay?" He calls out as he sprints down the side of the hill to catch up to them. The brothers reach the shore simultaneously, and Dean drops to his knees to gently set Y/N on the ground in front of him, Sam following suit. 

"Come on, be okay, be okay, be okay, be okay," Dean pleads softly, placing two fingers on her neck. His heart is beating so hard that he can't tell if it's her pulse he's feeling or his own. "Sam, I can't feel anything," he says. Dropping an ear to her mouth, he adds, "And I don't think she's breathing." 

"Call 911," Sam demands, ripping his jacket off to tie around Y/N's bleeding head wound. He quickly inspects the rest of her body for any bleeding before placing a hand on her chest. Looking up at Dean, who stands frozen, Sam puts his free hand on Dean's shoulder, "now, Dean!" he shouts, shoving him. 

Sam tilts Y/N's head back, checking again for a pulse, a breath, a twitch, a shudder, anything that meant he wouldn't have to perform CPR on his baby sister. He places his hands on her chest, one over the other, pausing in case her heart miraculously started again, but all he feels under his palms is the stillness of Y/N's wet and cold chest. 

Sam begins chest compressions, and the tears he'd been holding back rush out uncontrollably when he feels her ribs break under his palms. It makes him want to pull away, but he forces himself to continue. Dean watches in wide-eyed horror as he gives the 911 operator their location when asked, keeping his free hand pressed against his forehead. 

"Anything?" he shakily shouts at Sam after what feels like hours. Sam ignores him, counting out loud until he hits thirty again. He stops compressions to blow a shuddering breath into Y/N's mouth, watching her chest rise and fall before delivering another. "Hello! Is anybody on the way? My sister is dying here!" Dean shouts into the phone, but all that meets his ears is static. 

"Dean," Sam says with a heavy breath, beginning compressions again. "You gotta take over," he says between breaths. 

Without question, Dean drops his phone to the ground as he falls to his knees next to her, "come on, Y/N," he pleads, ignoring the burning in his knees as he places his hands together on top of Sam's. Sam leaves his hands under Dean's for just one compression before pulling away. 

"Okay, that's ten. You've got twenty more before breaths," Sam says before they count out loud together with every push into Y/N's chest. 

Dean is growing tired by his third round of compressions, but the sirens in the distance electrify him, giving him the energy he needs to continue. 

His face scrunches up as he musters the emotional and physical strength to keep going. Sam hurries to his feet, "don't stop, Dean, you're doing great!" he says with a palm at him. 

"Don't stop," Dean repeats mindlessly, "don't stop." 

Sprinting towards the paramedics, Sam waves his arms, shouting, "Down here! We're down here!" before he knows it, a group of professionals sprint down the hill, the gurney in tow. One takes a story from Sam as one tries to pull Dean away so the other two can take over caring for Y/N. 

"No, I can't stop!" he cries, which grabs Sam's attention, "don't stop," he nearly whispers, hands pumping into Y/N's chest. 

Sam rushes over and lowers himself to Dean's level. "Dean, let go. It's okay, they'll take it from here," he says, grabbing onto Dean's hands to pull him off of Y/N. They watch the paramedics in shock as they cut the shirt, bra, and pants off of Y/N, inspecting her skin. The first responders put what look like stickers with wires attached to them onto her chest and pull out the AED, telling everyone to stand clear before delivering a shock with a beep. Then, there was a pause and the silence that follows is deafening. Nothing. They check for a pulse and call clear again, shocking her. Then, nothing. Again. 

In the hospital's hallway, Dean tries to tune out the surround sound of constant beeping. His elbows rest on his scraped and bloody knees with his head held in his hands. He rocks back and forth, battling with himself. He sheds tears both out of fear for his sister's well-being and of guilt that he did the very thing he promised her he wouldn't: put her in danger.

The clacking of Sam's shoes pulls Dean from his homemade mental Hell. Dean lifts his head, quickly wiping his eyes before grabbing the cafeteria coffee. Sam's familiar smell of motel soap and deodorant washes away the torturous smell of hand sanitizer.

"Thanks," Dean mutters, taking a sip of the coffee before placing it next to him on the cold tile floor. 

Sam's eyes are red and puffy. Dean struggles to comprehend how Sam doesn't even try to hide the tears coming down. He often admires his brothers ability to wear his heart on his sleeve, though he'd never admit it. He wonders who he's being 'strong' for in this moment because it's certainly not himself.

Clearing his throat, Sam pulls his pants up slightly at the thighs before sitting on the bench next to Dean. He glances up at the ceiling momentarily, waiting for the announcement to end before asking, "Any news yet?"

Dean shakes his head. "No," he says in a raspy voice, forcing his eyes to look up and down the hall. "Excuse me," he says, standing to interrupt a nurse before she can enter a different room. "Would you mind helping us find whoever we need to talk to for an update on room 221?" he asks, gesturing to the door he hasn't been able to even look at since arriving.

Her eyes flutter to Sam, then the door, and back to Dean before she somberly nods. "Of course," she says, setting her pen back onto the clipboard as she turns to head in the direction she came.

Dean wants to return to his seat, but his body feels like an anchor. He sucks in a sharp breath. His shoulders tighten into his neck and with weak arms his hands fall to his hips. He hangs his head, clenching his teeth and pulling his face to suppress the tears. Sam jumps up to Stand with Dean, placing a hand tightly on his shoulder.

"She'll be alright," Sam says, not fully believing himself, "she's a Winchester; she has to be." 

Dean quickly straightens himself out because damn it, he's the one that's supposed to be taking care of his younger siblings - not the other way around.

"Sam and Dean Winchester?" a deep voice echoes the hall and they whirl around to greet the doctor. Dean quickly slaps the tears from his face. "I'm Dr. Ferguson," he says, holding his arm up to shake hands with Sam, then Dean. "Let's go somewhere more private to talk."

"We're good here," Dean spits. 

"Very well," the doctor sighs, looking down the hall behind him. He shuffles them closer to the wall and out of the traffic flow. "Well, while we were able to restart her heart, I'm afraid your sister has sustained a substantial injury to the head," he says, "the trauma caused the tissue around her brain to swell quite rapidly, and well, we have her on a ventilator, but," he lets out a breath, "we haven't seen as much progress as we were hoping for. She's technically in a coma right now, but we hope to see her come out of it in the coming weeks." 

"Weeks?" Dean bellows.

"Yes, I'm afraid that's standard recovery time for an injury of this magnitude. Although, we'd be having an entirely different conversation if not for your quick thinking in the field," he says with a tight-lipped smile, eyes jumping from Dean's to Sam's, "it's a long road to recovery, but this is a good start." 

"And what happens if she doesn't wake up?" Sam asks. 

"We will do everything in our power to ensure that doesn't happen," the doctor nods. 

"Thanks, doc," Sam croaks. "Can - can we see her?" he stutters. 

"Of course," he says, pushing the door open with his fingertips, "go on in," he says.  

Sam immediately notices Dean's hesitancy when they exchange a glance, so he nods before taking a few steps into the room. He covers his mouth to stifle a sob when he sees his little sister with a tube down her throat and one in her nose. When he's close enough, he reaches for her hand and sits in the chair beside her, startled by the sound of the door shutting. Dean slowly enters the room, but keeps his distance.

Dean feels like the air is void of oxygen and tells himself to pull it together enough to stand by her bed. "Hey kiddo," Dean says to Y/N with a shaky breath. "God, please be okay," he says, forcing a smile as he grips onto her hand.

The two sit with Y/N for days, only leaving for bathroom trips and snack runs, but when one goes, the other stays, and when one is napping, the other is awake. Dean has grown slightly more self-composed but is still anxious as they stay by her side, even when the nurses come to deliver medications, chart vitals, or empty her catheter.

"Hey, Dean," Sam says, clearing his throat. 

"Yeah," he replies, keeping his eyes on Y/N. 

Sam looks down into his hands, "about my interview-" 

"Wait, what?" Dean says, cutting him off, "you're still gonna leave after all this?" he shouts through a clenched jaw. The chair scoots back in a screech as he quickly brings himself to his feet, "you don't wanna be here when she wakes up?" he asks, aggressively gesturing at Y/N. 

"Dean, we don't even know if she'll wake up," Sam quivers. 

"Man, you are a piece of work," Dean shouts, shaking his head. 

"If you would've let me finish," Sam growls with narrow eyes, "I was going to say that I called earlier… to reschedule it," he sighs, looking back at Y/N, "they were very understanding of the situation." 

"Oh," Dean says, turning on his heels to face away from Sam. He swipes a hand down his face, shaking his head when his eyes open to the white walls of the hospital's room. "Look, man, I'm sorry," he says, palms open and facing Sam. "This just has me on edge." 

Taking a few steps towards him, Sam holds back the urge to get nasty with Dean, telling him he's not the only one feeling 'on edge' about their sister's condition. Instead, he raises his palms and softens his face, "Me too. Believe me." 

By Thursday, Y/N had graduated from a ventilator to an oxygen mask. Though still needing the feeding tube, she's shown glimpses here and there of the Y/N they know and love, but overall, she struggles to remain conscious. The doctors are calling it a 'Minimally Conscious State' and "completely normal with this type of recovery."

On Saturday, Sam heads out for food from a local restaurant at Dean's request - something about them having good pies - but Sam has a sneaking suspicion that Dean needs some time alone with Y/N, and Sam could use the fresh air anyway.

Sitting in the chair beside her bed, Dean holds one of Y/N's hands in both of his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry I failed you, Y/N," he cries. "I should have been protecting you," he whispers, letting the tears fall freely now, "but instead of doing that, I got you into this mess."

Looking up at Y/N's face, he swears he sees a tear slip down her cheek. Despite being convinced he's imagining it, he reflexively draws his hand to wipe her tear away, gasping when it comes back wet. His heart races as he gently stands to get beside her in the bed. "Shh," he coos, wrapping his arm around her.

His eyes fall shut, and he's transported back in time to the almost seven-month period where she would only fall asleep if Dean were right there in bed next to her. Through tears and voice cracks, he sings Hey Jude in a whisper, occasionally reaching over to wipe her tears away.

"I love you so much," he whispers. "I don't know how to live without you," he says, his tears turning into sobs. "Please wake up," he cries, arm wrapped tightly around her, "I promise I'll teach you how to drive if you just please wake up."

~~~~ If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

Everything Tags <3

@wayardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @drakelover78 @soab1967 @shutupandfeedmethings @pollywantacracker666 @sonnierae26 @obsessed5sosfreak @tlovescoffee @noodledoodlebug @hobby27 @cluz1babe @emptycanvasposts @suckmyapplejacks @signrunsavestheday @flamencodiva @roseblue373

Dean <;3 @akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @laxe-from-outer-space @ellewritesfix05 @cluz1babe @lyarr24 @mrspeacem1nusone @idksupernaturl @fandom-princess-forevermore @stoneyggirl @chaospossum @nachofriess

Sam <3 (not including the tags already above :) ) @fangirlxwritesx67 @immafangirlmess @sizekinkshawty

[e-dubbc11]

Hello Fall!! (It’s also my birthday month)500 Follower Celebration!

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest//Google.

Greetings and salutations my darling friends!

As you gathered from the title, I have reached the milestone of 500 lovely friends AND it is also my birthday month (it’s the 29th, write that down. Kidding, I’m kidding!) Anyway, I thought it would be fun to do a little celebration. It’s also my favorite time of year, it’s filled with apple picking, cider, pretty leaves, Halloween, all things flannel and all things cozy.

🍂🍁🥮🍺☕️👢🍿🍁🍂🥮🍺

For those that have followed me for awhile and participated in one of these before, I’ll leave my rules under the cut and thank you all so much for your friendships, kind words and continued support. It really means so much to me 💕

So you know the drill by now but if you don’t, here’s the deal…I love doing these but I need you help so please like and reblog this post. I don’t bite so if you feel like sending something in, please go for it!

You don’t HAVE to follow me to participate but I would love it if you did!

Send in as many as you’d like

My very handsome men that I write for are Billy Russo, Matt Murdock, Brock Rumlow, Dean Winchester, and a little bit for Donald Pierce and Leo Barnes

Autumn Vibes Are Very Welcome

Send me your character crush, a Fall activity, and I’ll make a moodboard for you (mutuals only for this one, please)

My Favorite Color is Fall

Send me your ideal date night scenario with the fictional character of your choice along with your skin tone, eye color, hair color plus a little description of your style and I’ll do your makeup and pick an outfit for your date. Also tell me any colors you like and/or dislike.

Cake, Candles, and Lots of Smiles

Since it is my birthday month, I’ll leave some birthday prompts under this…

Birthday Cute

Birthday Fluff

Time To Celebrate

November Rain

I love music and I love when I get inspired to write something based off of a song so send me a song and a character and I’ll try and write something based off of it

Embracing Another Year of Beautiful Chaos

Tell me your favorite birthday memory

Ask for my top 5 anything

Ask anything you’d like to know about my fics

Fall-ing In Love

Pick a fic of mine and I’ll write a particular scene from the other character’s POV

If you think any of my one shots need a second part, let me know!

My on-going series are always on the table for new parts. You can combine that with any prompt you come across

Send me a gif (can be smexy, fluffy, angsty, etc)…and I’ll try and write something based off of it

As per usual, I’ll leave some prompt lists below but you’re not limited to just these. If you find a prompt you like, send it on over.

Soft Spooky Prompts

Halloween-ish Dialogue Prompts

Hurt/Comfort/Angst/Fluff

Protective Prompts

Lazy Mornings

Again, thank you all SO much for following me, I love you all and I look forward to your asks! 💕

I’ll Keep This Open Until 9/20

Tagging some of my lovelies that might be interested: @munsonownsmyass @music-indie-tv @k-marzolf @kayhi808 @fluffyprettykitty @ittybxttykxttytxtty @itwasthereaminuteago @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @jvanilly @stoneyggirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @snowkestrel @ilovewhiteroses @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @danzer8705 @rachlovesactors @snowkestrel @aoi-targaryen @nutmeg17 @nekoannie-chan @vaguekayla @freshabogados @wonderland2425

[iprobablyshipit91]

All That Matters

Genre: angst / romance / mutual pining / fluff

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: A few swears, mentions of torture, injuries, starvation and malnourishment

Written for: Dean’s Rootin’ Tootin’ Rodeo posted by @chocolatecakecas

SPN Masterlist

I’m back again as how could I not try and write something for this beautiful man’s birthday. It’s probably a bit more depressing than I intended but at least it’s happier at the end, promise! I’m a sucker for Protective!Dean 💕

It was 4am and you couldn’t stop pacing. You’d been at it for hours, back and forth across your room, practically carving a path in the unforgiving, cold concrete floor as your anxiety continued to bubble up inside you.

In your head a furious debate continued to rage as you take another glance at the door. You shake out your hands and screw your eyes shut as you desperately try to calm your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth. You know in your heart where you long to be. There’s only one damn place you feel safe anymore. The question is, will you go?

To say the last few months had been hard was the understatement of the century. You’d been on your own for the last year or so, since your surrogate father, Bobby, had been killed by Dick Roman. You could handle a gun and throw a punch, but really your skills were in helping out hunters where you could, studying lore and answering the phones and so you threw yourself into it whole heartedly to fill the gaping chasm in your chest. Of course, this also meant helping the Winchester boys.

You loved those boys like family. You’d grown up together when John had left them with Bobby for weeks at a time. These were the memories you looked back on most fondly. Running around with Sam, Dean joining you when he wasn’t pretending to be too cool for your childish games. The years had passed swiftly until one summer the boys came back and Dean seemed so different. He’d grown taller and filled out, and how could you have never noticed how green those eyes of his were? It was the biggest cliché and yet you fell hopelessly for him that summer. Sam rolled his eyes in disgust but swore diligently to never tell Dean your secret. And then just like that, they were gone again.

It wasn’t until many years later that the boys finally returned. Searching for their father and hunting anything that stood in their path. You helped them with Bobby, but damn it if your heart still didn’t melt at the mere sight of the eldest Winchester.

That was before.

You felt different now. You still loved Dean, how could you not? Your love for him had only grown over the years. However, you were skittish now and just felt so damn tired all the time. Your personality muted into a shadow of what it once was, content to sit and observe your surroundings rather than be the soul of the party as you had once been. Dean knew why. Sam knew why. Hell, everyone knew why and even though everyone told the brothers constantly that it wasn’t their fault, they couldn’t help but shoulder the responsibility. It was the Winchester way after all. It was them the demons were after when they kidnapped you in the dead of night and it was the bunkers location you’d been tortured for weeks for. Until the boys had finally found you, half starved, bruised and bloody, and rescued you.

The road to recovery had been hard. Cas had immediately healed your physical injury’s with a single touch once you were back in the bunker, but you knew it was the mental scars that were going to take the most healing. Flashes of the torture you’d endured haunting you at any given moment and you’d yet to manage more than a few hours sleep without a nightmare. You were still severely malnourished and had only just managed to start eating more than a few mouthfuls at a time.

After spending a week and a half in the bunker recovering under the boys watchful gazes you had gathered your few things together and made your way to the War Room, ready to say your goodbyes, determined not to out stay your welcome. Sure, you would miss the wonderful home cook meals Dean had been constantly preparing, despite you eating very little of them, and the way Dean had held you through the nightmares that had plagued you in those first nights. Waking up screaming until your throat was hoarse.

The look of identical incredulity on their faces when you told them you were heading home had almost been comical. After much debate Dean had simply taken your bags from you and marched you back to your room, insisting that you were staying with them at least until you were fully recovered and then they would talk more. Damn that Winchester guilt, you hated feeling like a burden. It didn’t take a genius to realise that the Winchesters had only invited you to live with them because they felt bad about it all, and you didn’t want to make that any worse. The tiniest part of you couldn’t help to feel relieved though, not really wanting to be alone anymore.

This brought you back to the present. Still marching across your room back and forth as the pent up anxiety slowly built until you felt like you were drowning. Before you’d really even made the conscious decision you were silently slipping out of your room and down the hall to Dean’s room. 

You knocked on his door once and heard nothing. After one more try with no response you simply opened up the door and asked, “Dean? Are you awake?” 

Before you had time to blink Dean was sat upright in bed, his gun trained on you. Somehow you didn’t even flinch, a part of you expecting this reaction and despite your recent trauma your brain just knew that this was Dean Winchester and he wouldn’t hurt you. You swallowed thickly and watched as he blinked hard, the sleep clearing from his eyes.

“Oh shit, Y/n, I’m so sorry,” the gun was gone in an instant and he was crossing the room to you in an old tee and jogger shorts. He gripped your shoulders quickly, eyes filled with remorse as they scanned over you. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What are you doing here?”

The questions came far too rapidly for you to keep up with but Dean seemed to realise quickly there was no physical injuries but you still held yourself tense in his arms. Your mouth opened and closed wordlessly as you looked up at him, tears brimming in your eyes. It was as if your throat was closing up. Your hands twitched a bit– you just desperately wanted him to hold you right now. To remind you that you weren’t alone. “Can I sleep in here with you?” 

“You come to my room and wake me up at God knows what time to cuddle?” Dean asked, a faint amusement colouring his tone now he could see you were physically fine. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and saw how distressed you looked. Very quickly he wrapped his arm around your back and pulled you back to bed with him. Without thinking you firmly tucked your head into his chest and breathed a sigh of relief as his arms wrapped around you and he started rubbed circles into your back. You gripped his shirt tightly in your fists. “It feels like I forgot how to breath...”

“You’re going to be okay.” he spoke softly, his deep voice rumbling in his chest beneath you. Very slowly he took in the sensation of you relaxing underneath his touch. “You’ve got me and Sam. Lots of people who love you and are going to make sure that you’re safe. Always. We’ll take care of you.” 

You could feel your mind stumbling and sticking onto one of the things that he said, “Love me?” 

Dean sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn’t the time to get into that specifically, he thought. The morning, when you finally got some sleep would be better. “Yeah, Sweetheart. Family who love you.” 

Your heart skipped at his statement. How could he still not know how you felt?

Sam did though. He could see the torch you held for his brother as clear as if it was a beacon lighting up the night sky. You felt his watchful gaze on you as you gravitated towards his brother for comfort without thought. Needing him to be close to just make it through the god damn day.

You shifted just enough to nuzzle into his neck. “I love my family too.” He stiffened just a bit under your touch, and you felt Dean let out a very shaky breath. There was more you wanted to talk about, more you wanted to say, but you finally felt so warm and safe that you couldn’t be bothered to worry more about it. 

You were surrounded by warmth and Dean’s scent– that gunpowder, leather and oil combination that just made you feel like home. His arms felt nice and sturdy around you, and it was impossible not to become completely relaxed in them. 

Dean laid there debating with himself whether to push the subject– but the second he finally got his mouth open to speak he heard your breathing even out. 

You’d fallen asleep. 

Tomorrow. 

You woke up slowly and found yourself in a very different position than when you’d fallen asleep. Half of Dean’s weight was now on top of you as you laid on your back. Apparently both of you tossed and turned while you slept.

With a groan you patted Dean’s cheek a few times to wake him up, only resulting in him nuzzling into your collarbone more, his breath tickling your skin. “Stop waking me up, woman.” 

“It’s almost lunch, Dean.” You paused before adding, “You’re also using my chest as a pillow.” 

Immediately he sat up from on top of you, his face tinged pink. “Sorry about that Sweetheart” 

You snickered and rubbed your eyes as you slowly sat up in bed as well. “It’s alright. We were both asleep.” It was impossible to keep from laughing a little more, as you realised just how bad his bedhead was. Without thinking you reached out and began to fuss with a bit that was really stuck up. “Is this why you spend so much time messing with your hair, Dean?”

“You’re awful sassy to the guy who shared his bed with you last night.” 

“Mmm, well you ought to be used to my sass by now Winchester.” you slowly lowered your hand when you noticed his tongue flick over his lips, your stomach doing flips and your heart rate picking up. “Thank you though. I didn’t want to–” 

Dean watched as your lips pursed into a thin line, “Didn’t want to what?”

“Look, I know why you two asked me here. I know it’s because you think it’s your fault what happened to me. I don’t want to mess things up for you two more. I hate to be a liability.”

His blood boiled a bit at your words. “We asked you here because you’re our friend, who got hurt protecting us. We worry about you.”

You tried to protest again but he shook his head, “No. You went through something horrific Y/n. You’re still barely touching any food and you’re quiet now, you don’t sleep well! We wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of. That’s why you’re here. Because you took care of us, and now we’re taking care of you.”

Dean sucked in a breath, the rest of his speech dying down in his mouth as he looked at you. He’d had it all planned last night and yet when he looked at you with the dark circles and bags underneath your eyes he hesitated. Not because of you, but because of himself. So what that you still weren’t lit up like you were before Bobby died. You were the woman he loved, the woman he’d gladly die for. But he was poison, hadn’t your recent brush of death confirmed that? Once Dean Winchester decided he loved someone it was as good as placing a target on their back and signing their death warrant. And yet Sam’s words came floating back to him. You love her and you know she feels the same. Life’s too short, Dean. Seize the moment and be happy. Could he really dare to hope that you loved him back. 

“Do you want to kiss as badly as I do right now?” 

Your eyes went wide as your face snapped up to look at him, “What?” Your brain was reeling, not sure how he’d changed the subject without you knowing.

Dean blushed again, “I’m sorry, god. You don’t… that was terrible. I shouldn’t have asked that. God damn it that’s not a good thing to ask–” you weren’t in a good place, and pushing you about that or asking you things like that could result in you making a choice you weren’t later happy with and Dean didn’t want to do that to you. “I’m sorry. Don’t–”

Very gently, you reached out and cupped Deans cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned in, and you felt Deans hands on your shoulders so softly that you wondered if he was scared of hurting you. 

His lips were soft and warm, and the kiss you shared was sweet and chaste. Before everything that had happened you’d day dream about something far more passionate that would have ended in someone getting pinned against something but now it was just good to feel something so gentle. 

When you parted you were greeted with a fretful looking Dean, “You don’t have to do this.” 

“I want to.” you snickered just a bit, “We’re adults you know– it’s not like when we were twelve and kissing was the most crazy thing you could do with someone.” 

He smiled and then nuzzled into your neck and breathed in your scent. “I love you, you know.” 

“I love you too.” your hands once more went to his hair and played with the strands as you thought about his words, “But you already knew that didn’t you?” 

“I hoped. Wished I’d have said something before.” 

To that you shrugged– there were so many possibilities missed that you didn’t see the point in counting them all. “We’ve got it out now. That’s all that matters.” 

[hahahahahangst]

The Cake

Tags (as per my masterlist): ❓👨🏻‍👨🏻‍👧🏻💖

Requested by: @themerakisstuff (happy birthday!!!!💕💖 )

Summary: it's your birthday! Sam and Dean seem to have forgot about it... but have they really?

AN: omg my first request AND my first reader insert ❗❗ i am beyond excited!

Sam and Dean have been gone the entire day. They left you in a random motel room. On your fucking birthday. Those two are un-fucking-believable. 

Leaving you alone on your birthday has to be one of the worst things they have done recently. 

You cross your legs on your bed and turn on the TV. Surely, there must be something to watch, right? 

The light of the television lights up your skin in the dark as the sound of the telenovela makes you roll your eyes - you never understood how Dean can enjoy this shit.

You change the channel. Doctor Sexy. Really? Another one of Dean’s favorites. 

Just when he has forgotten about your birthday. The universe really is trying to mess with you. You change the channel once more to land on a documentary. 

Know what? It’s good enough. Documentary on bees? On your birthday? Why would it be the pinnacle of sadness? Speaking about bees… Maybe Cas is available to spend some time together. 

Maybe, since it’s your birthday, you can try and convince him to bring you some cake from that bakery in Fort Wayne. You close your eyes and think of the cake fondly, your stomach growling. 

God, you are hungry. You haven’t eaten anything, thinking Sam and Dean were going to be back before evening, that they were just late, that they didn’t forget your birthday. 

Stupid of you to think that. 

You check the time on your phone. 3 AM. 

“Cas?” You say, closing your eyes and feeling kind of stupid for talking to yourself like that. “Are you free? It’s kind of my birthday, and nobody is around.” You open one eye, expecting to hear Cas’ wings flutter any moment. But you don’t. The bee documentary keeps going in the background.

So, just to recap: your brothers seem to have forgotten about you, Cas isn’t answering your prayers and the most compelling thing on TV is a documentary on bees.

That’s the premise for a very trashy, filled-with-drama teenage movie. 

You lean against the headboard of the motel bed and close your eyes. At this point, you might as well sleep.

“I told you we would never be back here in time!” Sam’s voice woke you up. “Fort Wayne isn’t exactly a short way from here.” You remain in bed, refusing to move. You don’t feel at all rested, just a slight pain in your neck from sleeping against the headboard. “You know how y/n is about her birthday!” Whispers Sam. “She surely thinks we’ve forgotten.”

You hear the sound of the door closing lightly and plastic bags being placed on the table. “We haven’t!” Complains Dean. “It was just… an organizational delay.” 

Sam sighs. “I’m not saying it wasn’t worth it, just… maybe next year we can take a case closer to Fort Wayne if you really want to go get that cake for her birthday.” 

You open one eye. “Can you guys shut the fuck up?” You mutter, mouth still dry and brain still clouded by sleep. You’re hearing their words, but you’re not really registering anything they're saying. “I’m trying to sleep.” You feel a hand on your shoulder and open both your eyes. 

“Happy birthday y/n!” Sam smiles widely. All of a sudden, you feel awake. You drag your hand over your eyes, surprised. “We brought you something.” That’s when you finally see the cake. It’s that cake. The cake from Fort Wayne you love so much. You snap into a sitting position Dean grins. 

“Always that look of surprise.” He says. “What? You thought we forgot about your birthday?”

You feel your cheeks fill with embarrassment. “Kind of.” You whisper. “You were gone all day.” 

“We took the day off to get you your favorite cake.” Dean smiles, satisfied. “I can’t believe you thought we forgot about your birthday!” He repeated. You smile so hard you almost hurt yourself and stand up from the bed. “Sam also brought you something.” 

You turn towards Sam, excited. He hands you a box a little bigger than your hand, wrapped in christmas-themes wrapping paper. “Sorry about the wrapping.” Says Sam, embarrassed. “They- they were out of birthday wrap and I had to improvise.” You smile at him and gently open the gift. You quickly realize it’s several DVDs of your favorite tv show. You force yourself not to start jumping in excitement. “Sam, this… this is amazing!” You look up at your brother and hug him. “Thanks.” You feel Sam’s arms around you as the comfort and familiarity of being close to your brother goes through you, flushing all anxieties and worries out of you. 

“Of course, kid. Anything.” Says Sam. How could you ever think they had forgotten about your birthday?!

“Alright, my turn now.” Says Dean, opening his bag. “I got two things for you.” He announces. You let go of Sam to turn towards him. “First of all, I made you your own copy of Baby’s keys.” He throws a keychain at you. You stare at it, completely overwhelmed by the fact Dean is giving you free access to his precious car. “And then, since you’re now technically an adult, I purchased this for you.” He hands you a small envelope. You open it and almost choke. 

Gift card valid for the purchase of 1 (one) DVD in our adult section

“I didn’t know what you liked, so…” Dean trails off. You look at the three objects you have in your hands and smile. A stack of DVDs, the keys to your brother’s car and a porn gift card. 

Well, maybe the gift card isn’t as emotionally valuable as the other two things, but it’s still… a gift? A well thought one for that matter. It’s not like he gave you his used magazines. You also hug Dean, who seems not to be expecting it, taking a couple steps back. “Thanks.” 

“Kid, I will never forget your birthday.” He says before kissing your hair. “Happy birthday, y/n.”

A/N: If you enjoy this or any sisfic content, I am writing a looong sisfic! :D Feel free to check it out here

[gabriels-wings-of-freedom]

Nice to meet you Kit! 😄 And thank you!!

Confirming the Request Captain 🫡

Awesome! Hope you enjoy!😁😂 Apologies if it’s not very good, but I always try my hardest with Cas

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Happy Birthday!

Castiel, with the best of his knowledge, celebrates your birthday with you.

The days with the boys are so busy that you nearly forgot your own birthday. All the monsters, ghosts, and demons made your lives busy. Even Sam and Dean don’t really take time to celebrate a birthday.

“You came out of your mother’s vagina years ago...we don’t always have to celebrate it.” Dean told one year when you brought up your birthday. After that, you just kind of let it go till the days just blurred together and you really didn’t think about your birthday. Well, even if you did care to remember, the boys certainly wouldn’t care to celebrate.

But one person did.

You guys walked into the bunker after a hunt, Dean teasing Sam about how the monster was “into him”. The monster was a succubus mind you. Laughter filled the area as for once there was a bit of relief in the air. Everyone came home safe. But one person was missing.

“Hey, where’s Cas?” Sam asked to change the subject. You all looked around in confusion before Dean just sighed.

“It’s Cas. We never know where he is.” Dean said before disappearing into the kitchen.

“I’m going to my room.” You told Sam when he looked back, wondering if you were going to join them. After he nodded, you moved down the hall and towards your room. This once, you actually did remember your birthday, and you were just a little bummed that the boys didn’t even think to say anything. 

But hey, they were hunters. Little did you know the surprise you were about to walk in on.

All was quiet when you got to your door, which you didn’t think anything of because it was your room. Hand on the doorknob, you opened the door, revealing your semi-dark room. The sight of someone in there nearly made you scream until you recognized the stranger.

“Castiel!” You whisper-shouted in shock, gripping at your chest.

“Surpr-um-” Castiel struggled with the little confetti popper. A few seconds passed and he finally was able to get the thing to pop, rainbow colors and the smell of smoke filling the room.

“Surprise.” He was finally able to say with a smile.

Still in shock, you looked around at your room, which was a bit different than you left it. A small thing of Dollar Store bought balloons was tied to the end of your bed. On your bedside table was a little cupcake that had a candle in it. It was all very small, but it also seemed to be filled with a lot of love.

“What’s all this for?” You asked once your senses aligned. Walking over, you took in everything. It seemed the angel did this all by himself given how little of everything there was.

“Your birthday. I’ve always wanted to celebrate one.” He said with glee, putting the empty popper aside as he watched you.

“How did you even know today was my birthday?” You asked him while sitting on the bed. The angel folded his arms behind him and gave you a proud smile. 

“I did some extensive digging in order to find this out. It took a lot of time and skill to do that.” Castiel told you, but you simply nodded with a slight grin.

“You looked it up.”

“I looked it up.” He confessed like a child, a frown coming to his face as his arms fell to his side. You just giggled before he joined you on the bed, sitting right beside you. Looking at the cupcake, you grabbed it and laughed a bit.

“No cake?” You said, knowing that was a little more traditional. He looked away a bit.

“I dropped it...it got a little smushed...had to improvise.” Castiel explained himself and you still laughed. It was both humorous and thoughtful, and you still loved it regardless. You set the treat back on your bedside table.

“Thank you...I wasn’t expecting much for my birthday.” You said to him and he gave you a confused look.

“I thought humans celebrating their birthday was a regular thing.” He said and you smiled a bit.

“I suppose angels wouldn’t celebrate birthdays...You would have over a thousand of them.” You said with a giggle and Castiel agreed with you. As you guys sat there, the air felt a little tense. Normally, all four of you were together, but now it was just you and the angel.

“It’s also hard for me...your birthday.” He suddenly said and you looked at him oddly. Castiel swallowed nervously.

“I don’t like seeing you age. It’s just a reminder that you’re human...and you won’t live forever.” Castiel said and you frowned at that. Angels live such long lives compared to humans. He would see you, Sam, and Dean (depending on the situation) die before him. Even if you guys had normal lives, he would still outlive you. It was a sad thought indeed, and not one you wanted to think about on a day that was normally reserved for celebration.

Luckily, he spoke up.

“I got you something...but you need to blow out your candle first.” He said with a tiny smile, fiddling with his hands while trying to lighten the mood. A little bit flustered, you grabbed the cupcake and blew out the candle, silently making a wish with a blush on your face. 

You were thankful that the angel couldn’t read your mind.

As you were doing this, he was fishing around for something in his pockets. After you set the treat aside, a small bit of smoke coming from the candle stick, you noticed Castiel was waiting for you. He had a tiny box in his hands with a bow on it.

“Cas...you didn’t need to get me anything.” You told him, feeling a bit embarrassed by this. However, he just shook his head.

“I wanted to. It’s your special day after all.” He said while you took the box from him. Upon opening it, you realized it was a necklace. It was silver and your name was the centerpiece, and two little angel wings encased it.

“It’s also warded for protection. It should help keep you safe on hunts.” He added as you observed the gift.

“Oh it’s beautiful...I love it.” You said, beaming as you moved to put the piece of jewelry on you. You don’t know where Castiel got this, but it was very thoughtful, nonetheless. After you finished, you noticed there was a small note in the box. Upon reading it, you were rather confused.

“Look at me...?” You read it out loud but obeyed. Looking at Castiel resulted in one quick motion from him. 

A small, sweet kiss to your lips.

“Happy birthday Y/N.”

From then on, you always looked forward to your birthday. It may be a reminder to Castiel about your aging, but at least he was always around to celebrate it. And on the plus side, he was always happy to try, in his own way, make it a big deal.

Who needed anyone else when you had one of the world’s best angels to celebrate your birthday with. He even got a cake once and the boys actually joined in.

And he made sure to not drop it this time.

[alexsoenomel]

Zippo Lighter (Dean Winchester x Reader fluffy smut)

Request: Hi 😊 would you do a Dean Winchester imagine where youre secretly having a crush on each other but not admitting it. Then one time Sam is out and you're alone at the motel, so it happens you accidentally walk in the bathroom while Dean takes a shower. You get all flustered but Dean takes the chance to grab you and kiss you and you end up in bed making soft love that night. In the morning Sam finds you cuddling and is just happy you finally got together

Summary: You were born with a very special and powerful gift. This is the story of how you met the Winchesters and fell for the older one. 

Pyrokinesis  /ˌpaɪroʊkɪˈniːsɪs/ —The ability to set objects or people on fire or to supernaturally project fire from one's own being through the concentration of psychic power.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: mentions of rape, abuse and death, AGE GAP (DEAN IS 35 AND THE READER IS 20), sweet and vanilla sex (reader is a virgin)

Word count: 7,505 (OOPS! I got carried away...)

Note: I LIVE FOR MUTURAL PINING OKAY! I put my own little twist to it and the only thing I left out from the request was when Sam finds them together....I kinda wanted a funny ending. Request by @tieddown-withbattleshipchains​

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

ALSO HUGE THANK YOU TO MY QUEEN FOR BEING THE BEST AND HELPING ME GROW AS A WRITER! LOVE YA GIRL!  @ambergoddess444ALSO CHECK OUT HER BLOG!!  SHE IS AN AMAZING WRITER HERSELF AND IS CURRENTLY WORKING ON AN AMAZING SERIES CALLED LAWFUL BALANCE!!!! 

It was said that being different was, is and will, most of the time, be a bad thing. Why? Probably because people usually didn't understand why someone was different. Sure, there are good human beings in this world, but most of the time, when you hear something filled with hatred it tends to stay with you longer than the good things. That's why you kept things quiet.

You didn't really have good friends and your family died in a fire...a fire you started when you were just a little girl in diapers, crying yourself to sleep. One moment you were crying in your crib for mommy to pick you up and feed you, and the next, everything was on fire....except you. You still didn’t know what exactly happened. That day you became an orphan, depending on others and your home was an orphanage near the house you once lived in. You weren’t happy there whatsoever. You had no friends, the food was awful and the women who were supposed to keep you safe didn’t care and treated you like garbage. No one liked you, no one wanted you…so you decided to run.

The night before your 18th birthday you packed a bag and finally, when everyone went to sleep, at around 3am, you left and never came back. When they finally realized you were gone, they were furious. Of course they tried to look for you, but failed. You were far gone from your city and everything you knew. It was time to start over.

That was two years ago.

Now, at the age of 20, you were content and living your life instead of just surviving. You worked as a janitor in a local high school in Lebanon, Kansas. It wasn’t much but you had your own little place, some money to survive and had a somewhat normal life. You thought you had finally run away from your past, and as far as your outstanding ability went, you decided to shut it down. You didn’t think about it and just for a second it seemed like you had finally moved on. You were even thinking about going to college and finally doing something you loved. Being a janitor wasn’t something you wanted to do for the rest of your life. 

Everything seemed fine, you managed to make some friends at that high school (more like people you were friendly with); some of them were students rushing desperately to graduate and go to college, some of them were even teachers, and for the first time you felt accepted, which was ironic considering you worked in the most judgmental place on Earth.

Who knew everything was about to change one night? You sure didn’t. You were clueless.

At around 1am on a Friday night you were awakened by the sound of the glass shattering. You got up and went to the kitchen only to see a shadow of a man.

“Who the hell are you?” You asked. You weren’t scared, you were angry and that wasn’t good for either one of you.

“Hey there.” The man spoke. His voice sent cold shivers down your spine, and not the good kind. It was the kind that made you sick to your stomach.

“Don’t move.” He said, pulling out a gun. “You’re going to be a very good girl for me tonight.”

You still weren’t terrified. The man had the face of a true monster and you still weren’t scared. He told you he was going to rape you and rob you, and you still didn’t flinch. Instead you were raging with anger. Your jaw was painfully clenched as your hands formed two fists. Slowly you approached him, step by step…

“Don’t fucking move.” He ordered but you didn’t listen.

“You told me to be good, right?” You asked innocently while the muzzle of the gun was on your chest. Slowly you put your palm on it. “I will be good I promise.”

The smell of melted metal filled the room, along with the smoke and…light?

A small beam of light came directly from your palm, intriguing the man to become fixated on it. You, on the other hand, didn’t notice. A few seconds later, the gun muzzle was shut, and the gun became useless.

“What the fuck did you do?” The man asked, as panic started to set in.

You weren’t feeling right. You knew he couldn’t hurt you now but you were still angry. He broke into your home, with the intent to assault you and might try again if you don’t do something. The anger was too much…

“Oh nothing…” You said calmly and pressed your thumb on his chest imagining the fire burning on that exact spot.

The man was confused until he looked down and saw his sweater on fire. He started to panic and tried to find the nearest object to put the fire out. It was useless; he was a dead man from the moment he broke into your apartment.

You stepped back from him and slowly moved your hand up in the air. The fire spread all over him now and he was screaming. That scream of pure agony woke you up. You quickly realized what you had done and it was time to run. No time to get your stuff, you just grabbed your wallet and left. Soon,the whole ground floor, where your apartment was, was on fire…

You didn’t know where to run or where to hide. You didn’t have a car and you wanted to leave town as soon as possible. What happened? What have I done?

Those were the questions you couldn’t get out of your head while running God knows where.You didn’t know where your legs were taking you, but you couldn’t stop running.  It was dark and it felt like every soul was asleep except you. The night seemed so endless and hollow.

Why can’t I just be normal? I want to be normal.

It was probably 7am and you were still on the move. You unknowingly passed the highway and entered the woods you had no knowledge existed in the first place. Eventually you noticed the sun was about to rise and you were exhausted.

Still in shock from previous events, you felt like screaming. Tears were coming down your cheeks and your stomach made the loudest noise letting you know you were hungry. Realizing you were lost, you decided to sit down and rest for a bit. You let your mind slowly drift to sleep as you listened to the sounds surrounding you; birds chirping, wind blowing, branches swinging and…someone running?

You immediately got up, feeling anxious yet again. In your mind it could be a serial killer or a dangerous animal.

“HELLO?”

Nothing.

“HELLO?”

Nothing yet again.

You slowly started to panic, feeling like you could burst at any minute and setting everything on fire again scared the living shit out of you.

“Hey.” Someone said behind you.

You turned around, and faster than lightning, from your hand a small ball of fire flew and almost hit the guy who was standing behind you. Luckily, he was fast enough to throw himself on the ground and the fire hit a tree, missing him by a few inches.

“What the hell?” You mumbled and looked at your hand. This was new. You have never done something like this. Imagining where you wanted fire to burn was the only way you could create it.

Sometimes you would lose control (like last night) but you never thought fire could leave your body just like it did now. It was like you were a living, breathing lighter.

“I’m so sorry.” You said. “I’m so fucking sorry. Please don’t tell anyone what you saw. Fuck.” By this point you were having a full blown panic attack in the middle of the woods with a stranger. What a perfect scenario, you thought.

“Hey, first of all I won’t.” The stranger got up and cleaned the dirt off his shorts. He was tall, very tall, with long-ish hair and a pleasant face. By the looks of his clothes he was jogging. Who in their right state of mind jogs in the middle of the woods at 7 o’clock in the morning? Clearly this guy. “Second, how did you do that?”

“I don’t know.” You said wiping tears off your cheek. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Okay. This is going to sound crazy but I live in a bunker near these woods with my brother, we deal with this kind of stuff all the time. You’re clearly stressed out and tired, do you want to come with me? We can sort everything out.”

“What? So you have seen stuff like this?” You asked, genuinely surprised by his answer.

“This? No…but I have seen a lot of things people only dream about.”

“You sound like a character from a TV show…or a mental patient.” You said, still questioning whether he was telling the truth.

“Yeah. People usually tend to think I’m crazy.” He smiled.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Think about it this way, you can kill me if I try anything.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.”

He seemed genuine and you felt like you could trust him. He was right; you could kill him if you wanted to. Your powers were growing and you could feel it. You didn’t want it, but it was out of your control.

On your way to “the bunker”, you explained to him what happened: the stranger in your home, destroying his gun and killing him…he seemed to believe your every word.  His name was Sam Winchester and he wasn’t lying. He did in fact live with his brother in these woods. It was some sort of a reinforced underground shelter, bunker of some sort;   it screamed men cave but it was cozy and felt like an actual home.

“Hey Sam.”  Someone emerged from the kitchen. A man in a long, gray robe with morning bed hair and coffee in his right hand. “Who’s this?”

“This is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is my brother Dean.“ He looked at him and just nodded.”I will explain later. Now do you want to take a shower while I talk to my brother?”

“That would be nice, thank you.” You said.

Sam gave you a towel, a clean shirt and showed you where the guest room was, along with the bathroom. You were still a little anxious and on the edge after everything that had happened the previous night, but strangely enough, you knew everything would be okay in the end. You could trust Sam.

“I’m hungry and I’m not gonna ask anything until I eat my breakfast.” Dean said calmly, looking at his plate of pancakes like he was looking at the most beautiful woman in the world.

“I’m screwed, aren’t I? Sam smiled.

“Oh yeah.”

After 10 minutes of Dean stuffing his face with pancakes and Sam looking at his laptop as usual, you were finally done with the shower and the older brother was ready to ask some questions.

“Okay first of all, why did you let a stranger use my shower?” Dean asked.

“It’s a guest bathroom, Dean.”

“Still…What’s her deal?”

“I ran into her while jogging…she’s…” He didn’t know how to explain it to him because he wasn’t quite sure what he witnessed in the first place.

“What?” Dean was growing impatient, you could hear it in his deep and sharp voice.

“She can create fire.” He finally spat it out. “I found her in the woods scared and alone and she threw a ball of fire at me.”

“And you brought her here?” Dean asked sarcastically.

“I scared her. The fire hit the tree.”

Dean wasn’t pleased with his brother and the decision to bring a complete stranger to their home, but of course, Sam already knew that and still decided to help you. He knew what it was like to feel completely alone, so he wanted to help.

“Still she could have killed you Sam.” Dean yelled.

“But I didn’t mean to.” You said standing behind them with wet hair and face almost red after a hot shower. The shirt Sam gave you was just above your knees but you were still wearing your dirty pajama bottoms.  “I panicked and I’m so sorry Sam.”

“I believe you. Now, let's figure this out.”

You nodded and sat next to Dean while Sam was still searching for something on his laptop. “There it is.” He mumbled and showed you the article. Damn, those journalists were fast. It was about the dead guy in your burnt down apartment. Luckily no one else got hurt or died. You then showed Dean the article.

“You did this?” He asked. His face was a little tense. He was contemplating if he could trust you or not.

“Yeah. Some guy broke in and threatened to rape me. I got mad.”

“Rape you?” He said after checking the screen once more. The guy you killed was a convicted sex offender.

“Yes. He had a gun.” You added.

“Well, it’s safe to say he got what he deserved. “ Dean said.

“Yeah but my life is ruined.” You said looking at your hands. “I could never live a normal life.”

“What do you mean? Where are your parents?” Sam asked.

You couldn’t even look at him and you sure weren’t about to cry. You told them about your parents, the fire, the orphanage and the abuse you endured and how life has been nothing but running and hiding for you. You have been just surviving for the majority of your life. It became exhausting, but once you finally started living, it all seemed too good to be true. Now you knew, it was. You could never have a normal life.

“I didn’t ask for this.” Your voice was trembling as you struggled not to completely fall apart. “I just want to be normal.”  

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were so angry at yourself it made your heart literally hurt. You felt like you were about to have a heart attack or maybe it was just breaking knowing you lost one thing you wanted the most – normalcy. You excused yourself and went to the guest room where you were staying. As soon as you shut the door you started to cry collapsing onto the floor. You suddenly heard Sam’s voice calling your name.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m a mess, better not. Give me a minute!”

“Okay but know one thing. It’s not your fault you were born like this. It doesn’t matter what you are nor what abilities you have, it only matters what you do. It’s your choice. You were a baby when it happened, (Y/N).”

Sam’s words hit you like a damn truck. He was right, you knew he was, but you couldn’t shake off the guilt you felt. You decided to open the door. You wiped your tears and let him in.

“You sure know your way with words, Sam.” You said, forcing a smile on your face.

“That’s because I’ve been there.” He confessed.

“You said you and your brother deal with all kinds of strange stuff, what exactly do you mean? Are there more people like me?”

He told you he will tell you everything if you stop crying and go back to the library.

“Okay.”

When you got back to the library, Sam proceeded to tell you stories that you would only read in books or see in movies. He told you he and Dean were hunters, but not the ones you thought. They hunted creatures… supernatural beings.

Stories about actual ghosts, demons and even angels followed. Dean even told you God himself existed…and that Lucifer was a tantrum making man-child which made you chuckle. When you asked them about humans with abilities he told you there were people with telekinesis, but your case was unknown to them.

“Well then…” Disappointment and confusion was all you felt in that moment.  “This sucks.”

“Want a drink?” Dean asked.

“Yes, please.” You said as a thought followed. I’m not old enough to drink.

Dean went and got you the strongest whiskey he could find. When you took a sip, the burning sensation went straight through your throat. It was strong alright and you have never tasted alcohol before. Strangely enough, it tasted good. It made you clench your eyes shut, but it was really good.

“Thank you.”

“Welcome.”

“Do you think I’m a monster?” You then asked him. Dean was taken aback for a second before he finally answered.

“Nah, you don’t want to kill people, do you?”

“No.”

“You don’t feed off people?”

“No.”

“Then you’re good, don’t worry. Besides, I think it’s pretty awesome what you can do.”

You have never heard someone tell you this; then again no one has ever known what you can do. His words rang in your mind as your gaze went to your now half empty glass, wondering how you drank the amount you did.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re like a walking, talking Zippo lighter.” Dean’s voice was naturally deep and husky; hearing him call you a walking,talking Zippo lighter sent light shivers all over your body. His lips formed a pout, he seemed to really like his little analogy.

Looking at your right hand, scanning every inch of it, you couldn’t get his words off your mind; a walking, talking Zippo lighter. Something in your mind happened that caused the tip of your index finger to make a small flame, indeed like a lighter. You smiled in shock; this was the first time you actually used your ability, without feeling angry. Rotating your hand you imagined the flame getting bigger, and indeed it became bigger.

“Like this?” You asked.

“Wow.” Dean said clearly impressed while Sam had a look of worry written all over his face.

“(Y/N)…” Sam finally spoke in a whisper. Brows furrowed; his face screamed concern. He was afraid you might slip and lose control, like you did with him. You took that as a sign to stop, so you brought your fingers into a fist and the flame was gone.

“Sorry.” You then mumbled.

“You’re indeed a Zippo lighter.” Dean said and lifted his glass. “Let’s drink to that!”

“Cheers!” You said lifting yours and chugged the rest of the whiskey.  “What am I going to do though?”

One glass of whiskey wasn’t enough for you to forget your whole situation. You had nowhere to go, only a little money in your pocket that will probably last you a month if you skip dinner every night.

“Tell you what, why don’t you stay with us for a while?” Sam said. “This library is filled with books about the supernatural, there must be something about your ability, we just have to find it.”

“Really?” You asked, looking at Dean for approval.

“We don’t usually do this, heck we don’t do this ever, but if Sam trusts you I trust you. But if you do anything stupid we will have a problem. Got it?” Dean said.

“DEAN!” Sam yelled, annoyed because in his eyes, he was basically threatening a child. You were 20, but still apparently a child in his eyes.

“THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!” You got up from your chair and went straight for a hug.

“Oh, okay then…” Dean said as you wrapped your hands around his neck from behind as he was still sitting and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Dean was definitely surprised by your actions and couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. Then you went and hugged Sam. You felt so small due to his height. His body was firm and he smelled like a winter mountain’s air, fresh.  

For the first time in your life you felt safe. These guys just met you and they were willing to take you under their wing and help you find answers to questions that followed you for as long as you have been on this Earth. You couldn’t be more thankful for that.

*********

First few weeks living in the bunker with the brothers was a bit awkward and not for them, but for you. It still kind of was after almost five months of being a part of their lives. Sam became like a brother to you, for the first time in your life you could just let go and tell someone what was bothering you and what was on your mind. He became your best friend.

But Dean on the other hand…

Dean was something else. You found yourself looking at him more and more, but in a way you didn’t understand. It came out of nowhere. The man was gorgeous, no doubt about that, but he also liked rock music, had a weakness for pecan pie and overall was a pretty funny guy with a heart of gold. Of course you couldn’t tell Sam about it, it would make things even more awkward and you definitely couldn’t tell Dean, so you decided to not think about it. Suffer in silence and be dramatic…

You had a pretty good life with them. At first Dean didn’t let you go on hunts with them because he thought you would get hurt, but you took care of that. When a nest of vampires came to your town you made sure to show Dean what you can do. You took down the whole nest with one flame.

“Damn (Y/N)!” He said when he realized the whole nest was dead. It made you blush like a schoolgirl.

Your ability just kept getting stronger. Sam was helping you control it and so far it was working, deep breaths, meditation and surprisingly yoga helped but as far as knowing the origin of your powers… that still remained a mystery. Being an impulsive ass you sometimes had moments when you couldn’t control yourself and lit things on fire. It was a little saddening knowing you might never find an answer where your powers came from but you learned to accept it. So far it was working for you. You were in a good place.

One Monday morning you were eating breakfast with the boys while Sam was on his laptop with a piece of toast in his mouth searching for a case.

“Sam, will you ever eat breakfast without your beloved laptop?” You asked him.

“Nope.” He mumbled.

You looked over at Dean who was looking back at you smiling. He was looking extra good today which made you nervous. Your little crush was still alive and well, tormenting you day and night. You smiled back at him before you heard Sam saying he found a case. Perfect timing, you didn’t want to look for too long and be obvious.

“Where?” Dean asked.

“Los Angeles. Two people dead and one is missing. Eyes burnt.”

“City of angels and dead angels. What an irony.” You said.

“Or demons.” Dean added.

“So are we going?” You then asked.

You were going and you were going right after breakfast. You packed your bags and went within 20 minutes. The ride was going to be long so you packed some snacks, water and beer as well. This was going to be the first LONG drive with the brothers. Almost 24 hours… Sitting in the back seat you couldn’t help but watch Dean as he started the engine and pushed the gas pedal of his Baby. He really loved that car, blasting Led Zeppelin through the speakers, jamming to their music and genuinely being happy.

After a while you put your jacket against the window using it as a pillow and fell asleep. You didn’t get much sleep that night so might as well use the time to nap.

You woke up about two hours later still on the road.

“Good morning.” You heard Dean say.

“Hi (Y/N).” Sam said.

“Hi, are we there yet?” You murmured, still a little sleepy.

They both laughed telling you, you have been asleep for only two hours.

“Damn it.”

The ride was long and exhausting. You listened to Dean’s playlist which you didn’t mind considering you loved classic rock and slept while the older brother was driving. You made a few stops here and there to stretch your legs and have a breath of fresh air before finally arriving in Los Angeles the next day at around 7am. You found a cheap motel and decided to eat and rest for a bit before going to work. The room was relatively small with three beds, a semi clean bathroom and a dining table.  

“Dibs on the shower.” You said.

“I’m next.” Sam said, looking at his brother.

“Ugh fine.” You heard Dean as you closed the door.

After a steamy hot shower you felt like you have just been reborn. Because it was hot as hell (pun intended), you put on a pair of shorts, one of Dean’s old Led Zeppelin shirts you “borrowed” and your worn out boots. When you opened the door Dean’s gaze went straight to you. He was obvious but you didn’t see it. You were too tired and hungry to notice anything.

Dean was lost in you and he was quite confused by it. When he first saw you, he thought you were cute but then when you told him you were 20 he slapped himself mentally. He was 35 and it felt weird.

While he was drinking his beer and Sam was taking a shower, he watched you as you roamed around the room packing your stuff searching for God knows what in those damn shorts before you sat down across from him and opened your small bottle of vodka you bought at the gas station. You looked older than your actual age so buying alcohol was never a problem for you.

“What’s that?” Dean asked.

“Vodka.”

“You know you’re not old enough to drink?”

“I will be 21 in five months, leave me be.” You smiled and took a sip. Vodka was strong, burning your throat for a few seconds but it felt so good it woke you up instantly. Drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t smart at all and you knew that, but man you needed that little taste. You were a little nervous being alone with Dean.

You didn’t know but he couldn’t stop thinking how hot you were in those shorts and his shirt. “Why the fuck do I have a crush on a chick who's not old enough to drink?”

*****

The next day started at 6am. Dean woke you with a fresh cup of coffee under your nose.

“Good morning princess.”

His sarcastic tone made you roll your eyes before you even opened them. You got up, eyes still closed, hair all over your face, and took a sip of bitter black coffee. It was good enough to make you open your eyes, as you sat on the edge of the bed, processing your existence.

“Where’s Sam?” You said under your breath.

“Went to check out the bodies. Get dressed! We are going in ten minutes!”

“Without breakfast?” You asked knowing damn well Dean would never skip breakfast.

“With breakfast dumbass! We are meeting him at the diner two blocks away.”

“Good.” You simply said and went to the bathroom.

*****

The whole day was a bust. You checked out the bodies but couldn’t locate the source of the killings and with Cas (a badass angel whom you had a pleasure meeting once) not answering his angel phone, you were kinda stuck.

Later that day another body popped up, but no new leads followed. Annoyed, tired and sweaty in the suits you were wearing pretending to be the FBI, you decided to try again tomorrow. Sam decided to go for a walk and clear his head, while Dean was ready to hit the sack. You were hungry so you decided to grab a burger before going back to the motel.

After eating your Five guys you came back to the room, ready for a shower and some sweet dreams. Where's Dean?

Kicking your boots off, you noticed Dean’s suit on his bed and yet again wondered where he was. You took off the blazer and pants, feeling the warm air brush your skin and relief since it was so damn hot. Wrapping a towel around your naked body you opened the bathroom door only to see Dean standing surrounded by steam with a towel around his hips. You have seen him shirtless before, covered in cuts and blood, but shirtless nonetheless and every time you would tell yourself to not stare for too long.

“Holy shit, I’m sorry.” You said and closed the door immediately. You could feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment as you tried to shake the same feeling away. Dean was good at reading people and you had to be careful with your silly little crush. You didn’t want to make things awkward.

Dean opened the door, still wearing only a towel.

“You done?” You refused to look at him. Your eyes were looking at the bathroom door right behind him.

“Yeah.” He said. He was admiring the sight before him. Your locks of hair gently touching your shoulders, white towel wrapped around you, you looked tired and beautiful. I will lose my damn mind.

You just nodded and went to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Deep breaths didn't help, your heartbeat was in your throat, while your body felt unfamiliar and tense.

Meanwhile Dean got dressed and went to bed trying desperately to not think about the view he saw minutes ago. He failed.

Great, now I have a boner.

In the bathroom you took your sweet time to really enjoy the shower. You liked steaming hot showers, your philosophy was: if the skin wasn’t red afterwards, the shower wasn't good enough. You've always loved being hot, summer was your favorite holiday, hot coffee was your favorite drink; you sometimes wondered if your ability shaped your whole personality…BUT feeling hot and bothered because of a man was another story. It wasn't any man, it was Dean Winchester. You shook the sweet sinful thoughts of you and him doing the horizontal tango and focused on washing the shampoo from your hair.

After the shower you brushed your teeth and got into an oversized Mötley Crüe shirt you bought a few years ago in a random music store in Kansas. It covered your ass and was perfect for sleeping. Plus it reminded you of the things that once were and bittersweet memories of your almost normal life.

I wonder how his lips taste. God, I really want to bite his perfect little nose.

You shook your head.

No….skin care!

After finishing your skin care, which only consisted of one serum, you stepped out of the bathroom and saw Dean on his phone, pretending to not scan you as you went under the covers.

God, I love that shirt on her.

I should really do something before Sam gets back.

"(Y/N)?" You heard him as you were trying to get comfortable in a shitty motel bed.

"Yeah?"

She's too young for me.

She doesn't like me.

It's weird.

"Do you still wish to be normal?"

Stupid fucking question.

"Not really, why?"

Dean swallowed nervously, not knowing where to take this conversation.

You were surprised by his question. Why is he asking me this?

"Just wondering, I know how messed up you were when we met."

"You and Sam really helped me accept that part of myself. It's not something I would change." You were lying on your side, facing Dean. Something seemed off about him and you noticed. It felt like secrets were lingering in the air and he refused to say anything. The air was tense. You were nervous.

Maybe I'll get lucky tonight.

You're not in a porn movie (Y/N)! Snap out of it! He probably thinks I'm too young for him?

Should I do something though?

What is he hiding from me?

"Plus, I really like being a walking, talking Zippo lighter." You finally added, reminding him of his little comparison.

He chuckled. "You know, I have one and it's not as badass as you."

You felt your cheeks burning up. You were trying to determine if it was his comment or warm air in the room.

"Yeah well, I'm a collector's item. Unique, I guess." You said and sat up on the edge of the bed. You looked at your left hand before it was engulfed in fire. Dean was watching you closely, hypnotized by the flame. You wanted to try something you have been practicing for a while.

"Open your Zippo, Dean." You told him. He went to the sofa and got his lighter from his jacket. He was only in his boxers but you were too focused on the flame in your hand to fully process.

He opened the silver Zippo he had had for years and before he could say anything you snapped your fingers and a small flame started flying in the air before it settled on the wick.

"Holy shit that's awesome!"  

"Yeah? Been practicing control for a bit."

"Well good job Zippie! This is fucking amazing!" For a second he sounded like an excited child in an amusement park.

You chuckled. Zippie. You liked when he gave you nicknames and occasional terms of endearment like sweetheart or darling. It made your little heart dance.

"I really like that." You said and formed a fist making the whole flame disappear from your hand and his lighter.

"What?" He asked. His voice was deep but something changed. You couldn't put a finger on it but your gut was telling you something good was lingering just around the corner. His face was a dead giveaway. You knew Dean, not long, but long enough to recognise the look he had whenever he wanted to devour a woman alive. You’ve seen it like ten times in the past few months. He was a flirty type.  

His face was relaxed, smoldering eyes burning right through you, occasionally licking his perfect plum lips.

He likes me.

"I like the nickname Zippie." You finally said as you snapped back to reality.

He didn't say anything. He just put his lighter back in the pocket of his leather jacket and sat on your bed.

"Can I tell you something, Zippie?"

"Yeah, you can." You said, your voice struggling not to completely disappear.

"When I say I think you're badass I really mean that. You're really something else…"

Why can't I just tell her?

You smiled. You knew he thought your ability was awesome but to hear him say it was something else. It was from the heart.

"I believe you."

You sat next to him and put your index finger in front of him. A small yellow flame appeared.

"Make a wish!" You said. He wasn't sure why you did that but he knew exactly what to wish for.

I wish you would kiss me back.

Dean closed his eyes and blew the candle that was your finger.

After he did it, you did exactly the same.

I wish you would kiss me.

"What did you wish for?" You said, not noticing how close your faces were.

"This!" And with that Dean closed the gap between you with a soft kiss on your lips. You could taste the hint of mint right away from his toothpaste while your hand went to cup his cheek before you decided to sit on his lap. Your forehead was resting on his when you broke the kiss.

"I wished the same thing." You confessed.

His hand went in your hair as he smiled and kissed you again, this time letting you know he wanted more. He wanted it all.

You moaned into the kiss and you placed your hands on his cheeks, pulling him closer. His kisses were addictive, sweet and with a taste of something you have never experienced before – lust. You’ve kissed a few, you’ve made out with the few, but never actually felt wanted enough to sleep with someone. Until now.

You broke the kiss, panting like you just ran a marathon.

“Sam’s going to kill you, y’know?” You said as his lips drifted to your neck, leaving a small trail of kisses all over.

“Why do you think that?” He was, of course, clueless.

“It’s not like you’re 15 years older than me Dean.” You said sarcastically. “Plus he sees me as his younger sister.”

“Ew gross!” He answered between kisses. “I mean…I thought I’m too old for you but–”

“But nothing.” You cut him off. “It’s not like I’m 16, give me a break! Plus 35 is a perfect age for a man.”

Dean lifted his head up to look at you, his green eyes were sparkling and his lips were smiling. “You think so?”

“Yeah I know so! Sam showed me your old photos when you were in your early 20s. You are aging like fine wine.”

It was true. You and Sam were rummaging through old boxes on a random, rarely free, Sunday when you found old photos of the brothers throughout the years. Dean in his early 20s was an innocent, breathtaking boy with a stunning smile on his face. He would protect you and make sure you were safe, whilst Dean in his early 30s would kill for you and make sure you were far from danger. Dean in his early 30s was tired and wise, body and soul filled with scars, but beauty intact.

Dean’s smile became a smirk. He nodded, accepting the compliment before he kissed you again. His hands went under your shirt, his fingers tracing all over your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body. In response you started to slowly move your hips and grind against him, feeling how hard he already was. It then hit you. You didn’t tell him.

“Dean?” You said breaking the kiss…again.

“Huh?”

“I have a thing I forgot to tell you.” You started. You felt nervous even though you didn’t know why. It wasn’t a big deal and you knew that, The only question was how to properly articulate it.

“Spill it!” He looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes, excited about what you would say next. Who knew he was like a puppy when he liked someone.

“You’re going to be my first.” You finally spilled it after a few seconds of silence.

He tilted his head slightly. “You mean your first DILF?”

You sighed and gave him a bitch face. Too much time with Sam was rubbing off on you. “You’re not a father as far as I know, Dean! No, like the first guy I’m gonna sleep with!”

His lips formed a small O when you told him.

“You mean…?”

“Yeah!”

“Are you sure you want to though?” He then asked, even though he already knew the answer. You trusted him. He trusted you.

“Yeah. Now shut up and kiss me, will ya?”

“Yes ma’am.” He smirked.

This kiss seemed different, needy and filled with lust and adoration. It felt like he was holding everything back until now. It felt like you finally got to taste your favorite wine, so sweet and addictive. You couldn't get enough of it.

You leaned in, urging him to follow you as you fell into the mattress. While you were kissing, you couldn't help but slowly move your hips, grinding against him, feeling how hard he was. It was a brand new feeling. You liked the idea of him getting all hot and bothered because of you. He moaned into the kiss, growing impatient before he took your shirt off, exposing you completely. You thought you were going to be shy and hide your body from him, but something about Dean made you feel comfortable and free.

"You're so beautiful." He said in pure adoration.

"You're making me blush." You said and meant it. His words were meaningful and true. No other person has ever made you believe the things they said. That was why you didn't even bother to go all the way with people you have been seeing. You could read right through them and see their true intentions.

Your hands were roaming freely all over his body. He was all muscles and covered in scars, each one telling a story of his life as a hunter.

He took his time on you, making sure you were comfortable and relaxed for him. His right hand went down to your naked body, feeling every bump and inch of your skin. Your lips parted as you let out a sigh. When he reached the most sensitive spot between your legs his thumb started to rub you in a circular motion while his lips never left your neck. .

“You like that?” He asked between kisses.

The only thing that escaped from your lips was a light: “Aha.”

“Good.”

He took your panties off exposing you completely under him. Soon his boxers followed. When you saw how big he actually was you swallowed nervously wondering how much it would hurt. You knew first times always hurt and it usually sucked, but so far you were enjoying every minute of it. He knew which buttons to push and which places to kiss.

He positioned himself between your legs and slowly entered you. You were holding on to his back, fingers deep in his skin as you gasped in discomfort. It hurt but it wasn’t as bad as you expected.

“Holy shit!” You said under your breath.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…just….move!”

He nodded and started to move slowly. It still hurt but after every slow thrust, it hurt a little bit less and less, until the pleasure took over the pain almost completely. He was taking it slow while kissing every inch of your skin he could get his lips on. You were breathing into each other while his thrusts became faster and stronger. You could feel yourself getting warmer and something in the lower part of your stomach. You weren’t sure what it was but you liked it.

“You’re hot!” He noticed, feeling your body temperature rise after every thrust.

“I feel weird!” You whispered into his ear before placing a kiss on his neck. “I think I’m close!”

It felt like a rollercoaster but instead of going up and down; you only went up until you couldn’t take anymore and just crashed. But the thing was your body temperature kept rising and rising until you reached your breaking point. You were both panting, gasping for air, your hands were leaving light scratches on Dean’s back and yet he didn’t even flinch.  

“FUCK!” You moaned, feeling the orgasm pierce through you. Your lips were parted, back slightly arched under Dean, but your eyes changed color – two yellow sparks appeared as you were experiencing your first big O.

“Dean!” His name didn’t leave your lips, just like a cigarette of a smoker.

Dean didn’t stop until you came down from the euphoric high. He watched your eyes go back to your normal color, following your body temperature.

When he stopped moving and collapsed on you, you kissed him on the lips and did what you’ve always wanted to do – you bit his nose.

“Why did you do that?” He smiled in confusion.

“You have a perfect nose and for some reason I’ve always wanted to bite it.” You explained.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He moved next to you, covered in sweat, wondering what he saw a few moments ago.

“(Y/N), did you feel your temperature rise before you came?”

“Yeah. It was weird and yet it felt amazing.”

“Yeah your eyes also changed color.” He added, thinking how perfect your nickname was. Zippie the human lighter.

“Changed color?”

“Yeah they were yellow, like you had sparks in your eyes.”

“Awesome!” You said and kissed his shoulder. “Sam is still going to kill you though!”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah!”

That night you slept in separate beds since Sam was sharing the room with you. He came back three hours later and by that time you were both fast asleep.

The next morning during breakfast in the nearby diner, between stuffing your face with eggs and bacon, you decided to be a little bit of a dick.

“Sam, I found out something new about myself.”

Sam took a sip of his black coffee. “Really? What?”

Dean was ignoring the whole conversation, eating his pancakes.

“My body temperature rises and my eyes sparkle whenever I have an orgasm!”

Dean choked on his pancakes, while Sam stayed silent in shock before looking at Dean giving him his iconic bitch face.  

“Really, Dean?”

“Zippie, you’re a dick!” He told you.

“Your dick now since you like me that much, handsome!” You winked at him.

[youchangedmedestiel]

I wrote this ficlet before even knowing/thinking about Dean's birthday. But I think it fits well, especially because it's called "My old man". So, there it is (also available on AO3):

Claire came to the bunker this morning telling she was working on a case not so far from Lawrence and needed help especially about lore. Plus it was the occasion to see everybody.

She spent the whole morning with Jack working on finding things about her case. Jack got involved really fast as soon as he thought it was a kind of zombies. They are not sure what it is exactly so far, but they are still digging into the books in the bunker’s library right now, sitting side by side, and Dean joined to give them a hand, sitting across the same table, since Sam is out on another hunt with Eileen.

Claire is starting to be bored with all this research and decides that annoying Dean would be funny which it usually is. She notices him squinting while looking down at the book in front of him and takes the opportunity.

“Do you need some glasses to read, old man?” She asks, winking at Jack who lifted his head once he heard her talk, then she looks back at Dean to see his reaction, because that’s the fun part. Dean is bewildered at first and Claire does anything to hold back her laugh.

“I – no – I’m not THAT old. I – I don’t need glasses.” He stutters, frowning at her.

“Yeah sure, like you don’t ask Cas to bring you coffee because your old man’s knees hurt.” She adds and then looks back down at her book after she sees how wide Dean’s mouth opened.

“Wh – no.” Dean starts, frowning even harder, and looks at Jack, probably searching for back up here but he just looks back at Dean questioningly.

“You should stop frowning though because it’ll just add more wrinkles to your already wrinkled face.” Claire shouts, holding back another laugh that threaten to go out. It’s so easy to tease Dean. She loves doing it, especially to see his reactions.

“She’s right, you have lots of wrinkles around your eyes.” Jack observes, his gaze focused on the corner of Dean’s eyes. And Claire starts chuckling but turns it into a cough. But Dean didn’t notice because he is too focused on what Jack said. He doesn’t know what to say anymore, he is familiar with Claire messing with him, but he is also aware of Jack’s usual honesty, which hurts him more. Because if Jack says he looks old, then it must be true.

“I – I –“ He stammers as he touches the corners of his eyes with his index on each side of his face, when Cas enters the library with two mug filled with coffee in his hands.

“Come on Jack, I need a break, show me your room.” Claire suggests, getting up already, because this is not a question. Dean frowns at her knowing she is fleeing from Cas but then he remembers about the wrinkles and soften his face even if he still feels annoyed. Claire and Jack disappear quickly in the hallway, when Cas approaches the table where Dean is sitting.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asks, as he puts Dean’s mug on the table and sits beside him.

“Cas, I’m old.” Dean says, trying to flatten his wrinkles around his eyes.

“Yes, and?” Cas answers, tilting his head, because he can’t find what is the problem here.              

“Gee, Cas. Please, don’t lie.” Dean throws in an ironical ton, Cas knows how to recognize it now. He got to experience it more than once through the years they spend together.

“Dean.” Cas’s voice is serious but soft.

“Claire told me I have wrinkles around my eyes and Jack agreed.” Dean explains, trying to keep a straight face to avoid having more of those.

“You do –“ Cas observes smiling, and adds “I love them.”

“What? You – you love my wrinkles?” Dean asks, making a weird face because it’s hard to be surprised while still trying to keep a straight face.

“Of course I do. Especially the ones near your eyes, those are witnesses of your smile.” Cas says as he leans forward and cradles Dean’s face, his fingertips stroking the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes.

“That still makes me an old man.” Dean states jokingly, not being able to control his face from smiling at Cas’s cheesy comment anymore. 

“But you are MY old man, Dean.” Cas answers, fondly looking at the hunter.

“Well, can you heal my knees and my eyes, please?” Dean asks, flustered, lowering his face because he can’t look at him. “Of course.” Cas leans even forward, grabs Dean’s chin with his hand to lift his face up and kisses Dean’s mouth. It’s tender and warm. The angel’s healing grace shines between their lips and Dean feels Cas’s grace invade his body, feeling warm behind his eyes and in both knees. He also perceives a strange sensation in his stomach and heart, but that has nothing to do with the healing. It still comes from Cas but totally for another reason.