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runningfrom2am · 7 months

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leveling the playing field IX

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.6k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

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a/n: here we are!! 'season' two!! thanks so much for reading it and I'm SO so glad lots of people seem to love it :) if you do, please reblog it or leave your thoughts in the replies or in my inbox! i love hearing from you and talking about it so don't be a stranger !

without further adieu,, enter buzzcut coryo <3

next part

Coriolanus's stomach twisted as he could hear your screams from the hall, even though by then he was all the way on the other side of the school. He thought that was unsettling, only for them to abruptly stop just before he left. The silence that followed was so much worse. He didn't get any sleep, sitting on the roof in Grandma'ams rose garden with Tigris all night, wondering if you were dead.

He was just sick about it, even as he left the following morning, so early that the sun was yet to rise. It was a long, painful ride, and he spent the entire thing certain that you were dead. It was his fault, he had only wanted you to come with him, so he wouldn't be alone, but now he truly is alone and he won't even have you to write to back home. Regardless, he would try.

Rather than sit with the idea that it might even be pointless for him to live another day, especially with this unflattering haircut and a uniform that challenged the discomfort of the academy one, he decided to write to you on a paper he had found bunched between the train seats to ease his mind.

Y/N/N,

I hope you're reading this. I hope this gets back to you at home and finds you safe and sound, and you're sitting over your desk with a textbook open getting ready for university in the fall. That's not what's happening though, is it? You're probably dead. I probably killed you. If you are reading this in your room, or your library, or over my shoulder as I write this because you are only alive in what's left of your spirit, I hope you know that I am sorry. I did it because I wanted you with me, because in the moment I was so sure you'd be better off with me in the districts than you would be at home with your father. I think I was wrong. But I still miss you. You meant more to me than I ever told you. I guess, more than I ever told myself either until these last few weeks.

I think I heard them kill you after I left you with the Dean. If they did, boy, did you go out fighting. I always knew you would. I can't stop writing in case I never get to speak to you again. But again, maybe you're not dead, right?

Please tell me you're not dead.

Yours,

Always yours, your Coryo

He smoothes out the wrinkled sheet as he writes, hand shaking through most of it. He doesn't know if he should even bother sending it, or if he should just fold it up and throw it out the window in hopes that the message will find its way to your ghost. No, he has to send it. Otherwise he'll definitely never know, at least not for twenty years, and he couldn't bear that.

The wind hits the trees into the windows of the train as it rolls along the tracks, demanding that the branches be heard against the glass. It reminds him of you. Then again, what doesn't these days? Maybe it was just you letting him know you had read his letter, and that you forgive him. That would give him a semblance of peace for the rest of the ride.

When you woke up, it was impossible to tell what time it was. You only knew that it was dark, and your bedroom door was locked from the outside when you got up and carefully tried to open it only to be blocked by the mechanism.

"I have half the mind to agree with you on the Avox thing." You hear your dad sigh, his voice echoing from his study just down the hall. Your eyes widen and you try the knob again. Yep, still locked. "But we could always send her to Nine or Ten as a nurse. She's not staying here, that's certain."

"I don't want to push your decision, here, but she was saying she would tell everyone. She knows more than we thought, more details." Highbottom was here too, great.

"No, that's impossible. What did she say?"

"She knows we're selling, likely that you're storing it all here somewhere, and she knows it's enough to be treason. I don't know what else she knows, but it's risky business ever letting her out of that room again. The procedure might be our best option, here." You've heard enough, quickly making for your window instead. It's locked as well, but draping your old uniform over the lever gives you enough freedom to crush it with a particularly heavy, hardcover textbook without making much noise.

You change quickly, grabbing a few essentials that you could fit into your book bag, then climb out the window and slide down the back porch column before making as quiet of an escape as possible. Adrenaline carried you a few blocks away, but now, you were unsure what to do. You couldn't return, and you couldn't be seen, and you had a tragic shortage of friends at the moment. You find your feet carrying you toward the building you know Coriolanus lives in.

You're not particularly excited to see him, but with no other options, you're sure you can find it in yourself to be forgiving just this once. You could go to Sejanus's family home, but it's not far enough away, and you're not sure what his father would say. He'd probably call your dad in a second and it would all be for naught- you couldn't risk it. So, Coryo's it was.

You enter the building, walking straight for the elevator. He was in the penthouse, so you just have to hit the very top button and figure it out from there. You've never been to his home before, but he's talked about it plenty. Enough that you could find your way there, at least.

You groan when you quickly realize the elevator doesn't work, looking over at the stairs. It's a tall building, so you've got a long way to go. You wonder how he does this every day as you climb up set after set of stairs, taking note of how the walls are basically crumbling around you.

You knew he didn't have money, that he couldn't eat, but you didn't think he lived like this. No wonder he was so thin, and no wonder he still had any muscle left on his body. It was these damn stairs. That couldn't be it though, that wouldn't explain how his shoulders just seemed to go on for miles- maybe he had some kind of workout routine you never knew about.

You're drawn from your thoughts when you reach the top of the last staircase, hesitating to open the industrial looking door in front of you. Just beyond that was the front door to the Snow penthouse, and now that you're here, you're not sure what to do. Do you knock? You don't even know what time it is.

You sit by the door, deciding to think it over for a bit. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep leaning up against the wall where it meets the dusty floor.

Waking up, you're met with a gasp. "Y/N?" You blink open your eyes, seeing Tigris crouched in front of you, forehead creased with worry. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

"Tigris, hello." You mumble, gathering yourself to stand up as she helps you. "I, uh, I didn't know where to go, so..."

"Okay, okay. Come in for a second." She nods, holding your shoulder as she guides you back into the apartment. You squint at the sunrise through the large bay windows, she must have been on her way to work. "Can I get you anything? Some tea? You must be freezing..." She says, immediately shuffling into the kitchen.

"No, no. It's fine. Thank you, though." You insist, trying not to stare at the state the apartment has fallen into.

"Okay, well, please, take a seat. Tell me what's going on."

You nod slightly and move to sit down at their dining table where she joins you, reaching out for your hand which you gratefully take. "Did Coriolanus leave already?" You ask and she nods, giving you a sad smile.

"I must admit, I'm relieved to see you." She says, taking you by surprise. "Coryo thought you were dead. He was just so torn up about it, he said it was his fault but he wouldn't tell me why. I was expecting to see your passing in the papers this morning."

"Well, my days are numbered." You sigh, looking out the window again. The view was stunning. Maybe you would prefer a penthouse to your own large, empty feeling home. "My father and Dean Highbottom were discussing turning me into an Avox as a pity punishment, and I don't doubt that my father would rather bury me than have that on his name. I didn't stick around to hear their decision."

Tigris listens intently, squeezing your cold hands between her own. "And now, I don't know what to do. I had nowhere to go, I'm so sorry to intrude-"

"No, my goodness, please. You are always welcome here." She assured you. "But... what will you do?"

"I have to leave." You nod to yourself. "I have to leave and I can't come back, can I?"

"One day I'm sure it will be safe for you to return." She says, notably trying to put a positive spin on it. "I'll tell you what-" She stands quickly, going over to a hall closet and pulling out a large fur coat. "Take this, it can hide you and keep you warm. Take the next train to Twelve, that's where Coryo went." She places the coat in your lap. "He'll be ecstatic to have you and see that you're well."

You nod, standing up and pulling it on in a hurry. It was a beautiful coat, you could tell it was real fur. This must have belonged to one of their mothers. "Thank you, Tigris."

"There's another train headed there in about twenty minutes, if you rush you can make it. I had to check the schedule last night for him. Don't buy a ticket, just climb in a transport car from the opposite side, not the platform." She instructs you hurriedly,

You dig in your bag as you both head for the door, pulling out a handful of money and rifling through it to give some to her. You'll need some, but she will too.

"Here, Tigris. Take this." You say as she holds the door for you, and she instantly is shaking her head.

"No, no. I couldn't." She smiles awkwardly, waving a hand at you. "You'll need it more than I do, Coryo will be sending us cheques."

You smile at her understandingly, holding it out to her again. "If not for your help, then for this lovely jacket. Please take it. I insist."

Tigris sighs, taking it from your hand before pulling you into a hug which you gladly return. "Tell him we love him, okay?"

"He knows," You say, chin resting on her shoulder. "But I will."

It was dark again when your train reached its final stop, and you were curled up under the coat trying to sleep. You scramble to get up, having to bolt from the train before anyone came to unload the car.

Unfortunately, you didn't get the privilege of having a place to stay when you arrived, so once you're out of sight of the train, the best you can do is wander.

You don't have to wander long before you hear music. You didn't realize people were happy here, so the sounds of laughter and shouting and dancing coming from inside what looked to be an abandoned building made you tilt your head at the idea. Maybe you would just sit outside, around the side of the building where you won't be seen and you can listen.

You don't even get the chance to sit before you hear the singing start. It's Lucy Gray. You mentally scold yourself for not thinking of her sooner as you stand again quickly, finding yourself quite lightheaded. You must be hungry. Maybe there will be some food inside, or maybe you can find talk to Lucy Gray and maybe she'll let you stay with her. Just until you get yourself situated here.

Clutching your new coat tightly around yourself you walk in after attempting to dust off and salvage your clothes. Your favourite skirt and shoes took quite a beating throughout the day, and you're disappointed, to say the least. Hopefully Lucy Gray has a washing machine, but you doubt it. Did these people even know what a washing machine is? By the look of everyone in the room, the answer was a definite no.

Sure enough, Lucy Gray was on stage, singing her heart out. You had never seen her smile so wide, of course, and the kids surrounding her onstage were just as talented as she was at all their instruments. You've never seen live music like this before, only classical or opera where everyone sat quietly and listened until the end. This environment was entirely new to you.

Not wanting to interrupt, you wait until Lucy Gray steps offstage and her spot is replaced with a little blonde girl who couldn't have been older than ten.

"Give it up for the amazing Lucy Gray Baird!" The girl shouts into the mic, gesturing to your friend before more music started to play. "She'll be back, she's just taking a little break, but until then, you lot are stuck listenin' to me."

This is your chance. You push through the crowd and step into the hall you saw Lucy Gray go down. "Lucy Gray?" You call out hopefully, watching your step as to not roll a heel. In hindsight, these shoes were not ideal for the journey you took, but your options were limited by a time crunch.

"Lucy Gray?" You ask again, turning a corner and peeling into a large open room. It's a few moments before your eyes land on her, and she turns to face you having heard you walk in.

"Oh my days, I thought I recognized that voice!" She smiles, opening her arms and running up to you. "Y/N, my word, what are you doin' here?" Her excitement fades quickly into concern as she drops her arms from around you.

"Long story..." You chuckle nervously, pulling at your coat again as she nods for you to continue. "We got caught, for the compact. And the snakes, somehow. Coriolanus put our handkerchiefs that you used in the tank so they wouldn't attack you, I guess. I didn't know. Then they pulled us out of class the next day, he told them it was me, so then I put up a fight and they sedated me. When I woke up I was at home and they were talking about having my tongue cut out and turning me into one of those servants but I'm sure my dad would rather have me dead. So," You sigh, trying to summarize it as quickly as possible. "I ran."

Lucy Gray shook her head, mouth agape in shock at all the information she just took in. "Okay, wait... So they were going to kill you?"

You nod.

"But that teacher of yours seemed so nice."

"Sorry?"

"Yeah, he gave me some money and escorted me into the train himself."

You scoff, shaking your head. "He's never liked either of us, but that's only because I have dirt on him. I don't know what Coryo did."

"Well," Lucy Gray sighs, rubbing your shoulders gently. "I'm glad you're here. That you're safe."

"You too." You smile. "Can I just say, too, we were so proud of you. We were so lucky to be your mentors."

"I count myself the lucky one." She grins. "Let's move on, shall we? On the up and up."

"Yes, sounds lovely." You grin at her.

"Can I get you some water? Liquor? What do you need?" She asks, turning at that and going over to a bench in the middle that had a few water bottles.

"I would love some water." You breathe out, joining her and sitting down as she hands one to you.

"Lucy Gray, could I ask you for a really big favour?" You say after taking your first sip.

"Please." She nods.

"Can I stay with you?"

taglist: @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pixiepopz, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @nhlfs, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @sunghoonsbakery, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @roosterschanelslut, @impeterporker, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @http-ilysm, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world, @nan-nie, @shakespearseclipse, @iovemoonyy, @notyoursweetheart-honey, @girlalwaysathome, @gingerpixiecosplay, @xyzstar, @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland, @chess1ca, @queenofshinigamis, @elodiebeau, @soulessjourney,

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#tbosas #tbosas fic #thg series #tbosas x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo snow #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction #thg

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galateaknife · 4 months

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Supernatural Wincest Reclist:

All stories here are over (roughly) 30k words, written before 2020, not frequently recommended these days (as far as I can tell), unearthed from various storage areas on my computer, and end with Sam and Dean together.

Please mind any tags and author-written descriptions.

If a story says (podfic available) underneath it, that means that I have a copy of the podfic. Feel free to dm me for a file.

I hope you find something new to enjoy here!

Under my skin by yourkidney. ~31k words. Post-S1. Ghost-induced mind meld.

https://yourkidney.livejournal.com/27595.html

(podfic available)

Chains of Babylon by poisontaster. ~43k words. Post-S1 futurefic. Dean is trapped in an evil mental institution.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5721952

(podfic available)

Turn of the Wheel series by gekizetsu. ~111k words. Vague S2. There’s a war between the elements, and Sam and Dean get caught in the crossfire.

https://amalthia.mediawood.org/ebooks/viewstory.php?sid=127

This is Ourselves (Under Pressure) by clex_monkie89. ~30k words. Post 2x12. On the run from the FBI.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/230040

(podfic available)

The Things We Carry With Us by lovesrain44. ~48k words. Late S2. Dean thinks that Sam needs to get laid.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/267862

(if anyone has a copy of this podfic lmk, I lost mine a couple laptops ago.)

Black Velocities and Shining Movements by dimeliora. ~40k words. Late S2 AU. Sam is seriously injured, and something is seriously wrong.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19454164

Swear By All Flowers by sweetestdrain. ~37k words. Post-S2. Sam’s out of the game, and Dean is cursed.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18507

(podfic available)

Crush by sonofabiscuit77. ~61k words. AU from mid S3. Partially outsider POV. Dean owns a mechanic shop and Sam teaches.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/826173

(if anyone has a copy of this podfic, I’ve lost mine)

Threefold Path series by rei_c. ~182k words. Alternate end to S3. Sam gets Dean out of his deal. It changes everything.

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1581844

I’d Gladly Lose Me To Find You by flawedamythyst. ~36k words. Post S3. Sam makes a vow of silence to save his brother.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2215497

(podfic available)

And So Awakens Devils by concernedlily. ~59k words. Alternate S4. Sam ends the world.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/190731

Not Time’s Fool by FayJay. ~58k words. Mid S4. Dean gets turned into a girl.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4720

(I’ve also lost my copy of this podfic and would appreciate another copy)

The incestuous courtship of the antichrist’s bride by fleshflutter. ~48k words. Post-S4 AU. A classic.

https://fleshflutter.livejournal.com/102268.html

(podfic available)

As Through a Glass and Darkly by lexicale. ~118k words. Preseries and S1-5 AU with Hindu mythology instead of Christian.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/524025/chapters/927238

Hidden by AxeMeAboutAxinomancy. ~79k words. S6 Daemon!AU. Sam’s back from hell but daemon is missing.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9488537

(podfic available)

Tornado Warning by dear_tiger. ~28k words. Early S6. Sam is walking around without a soul, and a man with no memory gets a job at a butcher shop.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/475602

Choir of Furies by Atanih88. ~32k words. Late S6. Sam’s wall has sprung a leak.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/221544

(podfic available)

Another Brick in the Wall by road_rhythm. ~170k words. Late S6. Sam disappears. Dean searches for him. Sam tries to survive.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3207755

The Allegory of the Cave by Jay Tryfanstone. ~36k words. Post-S6. Memories and emotions and a hunt in New York City.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/488058

(podfic available)

Absolute Zero by pixymisa and selecasharp. ~61k words. Post-S8 AU. Sam closed the gates of Hell, and now he can’t die and can’t wake up.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4156011

Sam Winchester’s Guide to Blood Magic, or How the Rockies Were Made by badbastion, thursdaysisters. ~46k words. S9AU. The apocalypse everyone forgot.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4147914

(podfic available)

The Partisan by nigeltde. ~39k words. Mid S9. Post-Gadreel claustrophobia and restlessness.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2049891

The Babel Fish Has Forsaken Us by orphan_account (indiachick). ~34k words. Late S9 AU. Phantasmagoria.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2146206

a long hard day, a long hard night by deadlybride. ~39k words. Post-S9. Dean’s body disappeared. Sam gets him back.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16475585

Apophenia by MeltinSkelton. ~149k words. S10 or thereabouts. There’s a hunt and human evil in a town by Austin. Mutual pining and fever dreams, with a side of pining Cas.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17274647/chapters/40624721

Baba O’Riley and Eleanor Rigby walk into a bar by thecapn. ~33k words. The only non-hunting AU I’m likely to ever recommend.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27906127

Captured by the Game by rivkat. ~54k words. Raised apart AU. Azazel sends Sam to gain the confidence of Dean Winchester.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1389

(podfic available)

#spn #supernatural #fanfic reclist #wincest #wincest recs #longfic recs

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cheynovak · 2 months

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Somewhere only we know

Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warnings: 18+, angst, jealousy, fluff, spicy scene, ...

Side note: English isn’t my first language.

Words: 12690 - Sorry I might have let myself go a bit...

*Does not follow The SPN storyline *

Y/N is Bobby’s niece, when she decided to take a break from college, she needed a job and a place to stay. Since she had been around cars her whole live, her uncle provided her a job as mechanic and to handle the papers in his shop. This is where she meets Dean. The son of one of Bobby’s oldest friends and his only employee.

Y/N gripped the steering wheel tightly as she cruised down the familiar stretch of highway leading to Sioux Falls. The decision to stop her college program a few months over the summer had weighed heavily on her dad’s mind, but now, with each passing mile marker, a sense of relief washed over her. She was finally taking control of her own destiny.

Her uncle Bobby and aunt Karen's house came into view, nestled in the outskirts of the city. As she parked in the driveway, memories of childhood visits flooded her mind. The smell of Aunt Karen's homemade apple pie, the sound of Uncle Bobby's grumpy comments echoing through the house, it all felt like coming home.

Stepping out of her car, Y/N was greeted with warm hugs and smiles from her relatives. Aunt Karen's eyes twinkled with excitement as she exclaimed, "Y/N, darling, it's so good to see you!” “It’s good to see you too.” She hugged her aunt back.

Uncle Bobby, wasted no time in putting Y/N to work. "Glad you're here, kiddo," he said with a grin. "Got a ton of cars and paperwork in the shop that is need of some TLC. Think you can lend a hand?"

Y/N nodded eagerly, “I would love to help.” grateful for the chance to be useful. She had always admired Uncle Bobby's knack for fixing anything with an engine, and the idea of learning the ropes alongside him excited her. “Oh, come on Bobby, the kid just got here, I think she at least deserves a night rest.” Karen added leading Y/N inside their home.

Bobby took off to work while Y/N and Karen stayed inside. She told her all about collage and how her dad, Karen’s brother reacted to her decision of leaving school. Ever since her mom died, he wanted nothing more than to see his girl succeed in everything she did.

In the meantime, Bobby arrived in the shop.

Bobby unlocked the door to his small car repair shop, the familiar scent of oil and metal greeting him as he stepped inside, he saw Dean was already hard at work, his sleeves rolled up and grease smudged across his cheek.

"Morning, Bobby," Dean greeted with a nod, his hands still busy under the hood of a car.

"Morning, son." Bobby replied with a tired smile. "You're early today.”

“Well, we've got a backlog of cars waiting to be fixed." Dean nodded towards the cars parked outside the shop. “I thought I get a head start, besides it’s you that’s late today, boss.” He smiled.

Bobby paused for a moment, hesitating before he spoke. "Listen, Dean, I know times have been tough lately, that you could use the money. But business hasn't been as good. I can only afford to pay you for six hours a day."

Dean's expression remained unchanged, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "I know, Bobby. I'll make sure to get as much done as I can in those six hours."

Bobby nodded, grateful for Dean's understanding. He knew that times had been hard for both of them, but Dean had always been a loyal and dedicated employee, willing to go above and beyond to keep the shop running smoothly. And since he had no kids of his own, he always pictured handing over the business to Dean one day.

As the day wore on, Bobby and Dean worked side by side, their hands moving with practiced precision as they tackled one car after another. Bobby wiped his hands on a rag, glancing over at Dean with a grin. "Hey, eh, almost forgot, I got some news. We've got some extra help coming in tomorrow."

Dean's brow furrowed in confusion. "Extra help? But you just said you can only pay me for six hours today. How are we affording more help?" Bobby chuckled, understanding Dean's confusion. "Don't worry, kid. It's family."

Dean's eyes widened in surprise. "Family? Who's coming in to help?"

Bobby's grin widened as he leaned against the workbench. "Remember Y/N, my niece? I told you about her before. She’s here for a few months and decided to swing by for a while.

Figured she could lend a hand around here."

Dean's confusion turned to curiosity. "Y/N, huh? And she is going to work on the cars?” “Jup, and paperwork.” Bobby looked at the young man.

“ Is she any good with cars?" Bobby chuckled heartily at Dean's question. "She better be, I taught her everything she knows!"

The crisp morning air greeted Y/N as she stepped out of her aunt and uncle's house, the promise of a new day ahead. She decided to take a walk through downtown Sioux Falls, eager to explore her surroundings and clear her mind before diving into her new role at the car repair shop.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/N didn't notice the black Chevy Impala barrelling down the street until it was almost too late. With a gasp, she leaped back just in time to avoid being hit, her heart pounding in her chest as the car screeched to a halt inches away from her.

The driver's side door swung open, revealing with a furrowed brow and a look of irritation on his face. "Hey, watch where you're going!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with frustration.

Y/N's initial shock turned to anger as she glared at the young man. "Me? Watch where I'm going? You're the one driving like a maniac!" His jaw clenched as he stepped out of the car, his own frustration rising. "I wasn't driving like a maniac! You just stepped out into the street without looking!"

He climbed back in the car mumbling “Bitch.” and then took off wheels burning hot.

“JERK!” She yelled after him.

Y/N walked into the shop, her footsteps echoing in the empty space as she glanced around, taking in the familiar sight of the garage. She hadn't been back here since she was a kid. She noticed Dean and Bobby talking.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean said, turning to his boss. "Where's that niece of yours?”

Bobby chuckled, a knowing twinkle in his eye. "Speaking of the devil..."

Y/N approached, her brow furrowing in confusion as she caught the tail end of their conversation. "Uncle.” she kissed his cheek, Dean turned to her, a boyish smile on his face. "Well, well, well, look who decided to show up. You must be Bobby's niece."

Y/N's eyes widened in realization as she finally connected the dots. "Wait, you're the guy from this morning! The one who almost ran me over!" Dean winced, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly looking at Bobby. "Yeah, sorry about that. Sweetheart."

Bobby chuckled, stepping in to diffuse the tension. "Well, good that you two have met properly, let's get down to business. Y/N, this is Dean, my star mechanic. Dean, this is my niece, Y/N."

Dean, ever the charmer, flashed her a grin and leaned in slightly. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes? Looks like this shop just got a whole lot more interesting." While Y/N rolled her eyes Bobby interfered, "Watch yourself, Casanova, she is still my family.”

Dean laughed, shrugging nonchalantly walking back to the car he was working on. "Hey, can't blame a guy for trying."

She turned to her uncle Bobby. "Is he always like this?"

Bobby shook his head. "Oh, you bet. Dean has always had a weakness for the ladies. But don't let that fool you. When it comes to his work, he's as loyal as they come." Y/N nodded, eyes still on Dean’s back. "Well, I guess as long as he gets the job done.”

Bobby looks at her with a weird looking face.

Y/N's cheeks flushed slightly as she realized the unintended implication of her words. She quickly clarified, her voice tinged with embarrassment. "Oh, uh, I meant the cars, Uncle. I meant as long as he gets the job done with fixing the cars."

Bobby chuckled, understanding dawning in his eyes as he nodded. "Gotcha.”

“Well, kids I got to go, I have an appointment with the bank, don’t burn the place down while I’m gone, ok.”

The shop fell into a brief silence. Y/N focused on her task, the rhythmic clinking of tools filling the air as she worked on a particularly stubborn engine. Unbeknownst to her, Dean approached stealthily from behind, his curiosity getting the better of him.

With a mischievous grin, he leaned in close, startling Y/N as he spoke up suddenly.

“Need a hand sweety?” Y/N jumped at the unexpected interruption, whirling around to face Dean with wide eyes. "Dean! Don't sneak up on me like that," she scolded, her heart still racing from the surprise.

Dean held up his hands in mock surrender, a playful smirk on his lips. “Seriously need a hand?” Her eyes narrowed “No thanks, I got it,” she said before turning back to the car.

“So, what's your story? Why are you here?" He asked checking her out, whipping his hands on a rag. Y/N hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by Dean's sudden interrogation. She met his gaze, she saw genuine curiosity and warmth in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, she decided to open up.

"Well, I just... needed a change of scenery," she admitted, her voice softening with vulnerability. "Uncle Bobby and Aunt Karen offered for me to stay here for a while, and Bobby mentioned he could use an extra pair of hands at the shop. So, here I am."

“Here you are.” he echoed flirty. "Well, I'm glad you're here. We could use all the help we can get around here, and it doesn’t hurt a change of... scenery." he said with a grin, reaching out to give her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

The days turned into weeks.

Their work in the shop came to an end, Dean turned to Y/N. "So, Y/N, any plans for after work?" Y/N shrugged. "Not really. Just planning on heading home and relaxing."

Dean's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned against a nearby workbench. "Well, how about I change those plans? How about a little tour of the town? I'll show you all the best spots."

Y/N hesitated, caught off guard by the invitation.” Thanks, but I think I'll pass. Good night, Dean.”

Y/N sat at the dinner table, her mind still buzzing from the events of the day at the shop. The clang of tools, the smell of grease, it was all still fresh in her mind as she tried to unwind in the comfort of her aunt and uncle's home.

So, when Dean showed up at the door after work, she was taken aback. She hadn't expected to see him again so soon, especially not at her aunt and uncle's house.

Karen, ever the gracious host, welcomed Dean with open arms, "Dean, darling, I’m so glad you could come! Come, come, sit down. Have a beer. Dinner will be ready in just a moment."

Y/N watched in disbelief as Dean settled into a seat at the table, his easy smile making him seem right at home. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Dean's sudden appearance at dinner than met the eye.

Turning to Bobby with a quizzical expression, she voiced her suspicions.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm being set up?" she asked, her tone a mixture of amusement and apprehension. Bobby chuckled, a knowing glint in his eye as he exchanged a glance with his wife Karen. "Well, you're not wrong, kiddo," he admitted, a sheepish smile playing on his lips.

"Karen thought it might be nice for you to have some friends your own age around here." Y/N's eyebrows shot up in surprise as she glanced over at Karen, who was beaming at her with motherly affection.

Karen nodded, her smile widening. Y/N watched as Karen offered Dean a slice of pie with a warm smile, her heart softening at the sight of their easy rapport. Dean's eyes widened in delight at the mention of pie, unable to resist Karen's irresistible offer.

"How can I say no to that?" he exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face as he eagerly accepted the slice. As Y/N observed the exchange between Dean and Karen, turning to her uncle Bobby with a sigh, she couldn't help but voice her thoughts. "You know, I don't like Dean that much right?”

Bobby nodded in understanding, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "I figured as much," he replied gently. "But you know Karen, once she sets her mind to something, there's no stopping her."

As the dinner plates were cleared away, Y/N and Dean offered to help with the dishes, but Karen waved them off with a smile.

"Oh, don't you worry about that, dears. You two go have some fun," Karen insisted, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Dean, why don't you take Y/N into town? Show her around a bit. You can't spend all your time cooped up in the shop, after all."

Dean's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the suggestion. "Sounds like a plan, Karen.” “Aunty, I-I don’t know I’m pretty tired. ”Y/N tries to back away. But Karen couldn't resist the opportunity to play matchmaker. "You know, Dean drives a '67 Chevy Impala,"

Y/N’s chuckles, “I know, I’ve seen it up close.” referring to the almost accident. "And did you know, Dean, that Y/N has a thing for classic cars?" Karen continued. Dean's eyes widened in surprise, a grin spreading across his face. "Is that so? Well, then, I guess we'll have plenty to talk about on the drive into town." He held the back door open.

Y/N sighed softly as she slipped on her leather jacket, a faint sense of reluctance tugging at her. "You know, we really don't need to go," she murmured, glancing at Dean. "You can drop me off at a bar and go home if you want to."

But Dean shook his head with a reassuring smile. "Na-ah, come on. I know just the place for us to go," he said, his tone confident as he gestured for her to follow him outside.

As Dean pulled up to the roadhouse, Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the bikes and cars parked outside. She couldn't help but feel a surge of relief that Dean hadn't taken her to a fancy place, especially since she was dressed in jeans and an old shirt.

"Nice choice," she remarked, a hint of appreciation in her voice as she glanced at Dean. Who grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I figured you might appreciate something a little more laid-back."

Y/N smiled, grateful for Dean's consideration as they made their way inside. The atmosphere was lively and inviting, the sound of laughter and music filling the air as they found a table near the bar.

Ellen, stood behind the bar with a knowing smile. Her eyes flickered with amusement as she took in Dean's presence, yet another girl by his side. However, she didn't say much, merely offering a friendly nod before moving on to tend to other customers.

Dean excused himself to buy the first round of drinks, leaving Y/N alone for a moment. From across the room, she observed how he greeted Ellen with familiarity, a warm smile spreading across his face as they exchanged a few words. It was clear to Y/N that Dean was a regular here.

As Dean returned to the table with their beers in hand, Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity about his life outside of the shop. There was more to Dean than met the eye, she realized, and she found herself eager to learn more about the man behind the charming exterior.

As Y/N and Dean raised their glasses in a toast, the cheerful atmosphere was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of Jo, Ellen's daughter. Y/N couldn't help but notice the tense expression on Jo's face as she approached their table, her jealousy palpable in the air.

"Hey, Dean," Jo began, her voice laced with a hint of bitterness. "Who's this?" Her eyes flickered over to Y/N, assessing her with thinly veiled suspicion.

Y/N felt a flush of discomfort creep up her neck as she met Jo's gaze, unsure of how to respond to the sudden interrogation. "Uh, hi. I'm Y/N," she introduced herself tentatively, trying to keep her voice steady despite the unexpected confrontation.

But before she could say anything else, Jo's jealousy seemed to spill over, her words tumbling out in a rush. "You're the fourth girl this week," she accused, her tone sharp with resentment. "After Stacy, Annie, and Stephanie. What's so special about you Dean?"

“I don’t know sweetheart, go ask your diary.” He smiles before taking a sip. As Jo walked away, her upset demeanour leaving a palpable tension in the air, "Is she... an ex-girlfriend?" Y/N inquired softly, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.

Dean's eyes widened in shock at the suggestion, a surprised chuckle escaping him. "What? No, definitely not," he replied hastily, shaking his head vehemently. "She's way too young for my liking. She’s still in high school."

She hadn't expected Jo to be so young, and the realization only deepened her sympathy for the girl caught up in her feelings for Dean. "Oh," was all Y/N could manage to say.

As the evening wore on and a few more beers were consumed, Y/N couldn't help but notice Dean's easy charm seemed to intensify, his jokes becoming more playful and his smiles more frequent. It was clear that the alcohol was loosening his inhibitions, and Y/N found herself the target of his flirtatious banter.

Dean leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he spoke. "You know, Y/N, I have to say, you're even more beautiful than I realized."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at his boldness, feeling a flush of warmth spreading across her cheeks. "Smooth talker, aren't you?" Dean grinned, a twinkle in his eye. "Only when I'm around someone as captivating as you."

Y/N couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in her chest at Dean's words. There was something undeniably charming about him, something that drew her in despite her best efforts to resist.

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at Dean's persistence, shaking her head with a teasing smile. "You know, Dean, as charming as you are, you still won't stand a chance with me."

Dean raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, really? And why is that?" Y/N leaned back in her seat, her expression mock-serious. "Because I have impossibly high standards," she replied with a wink. "And I'm not about to settle for just anyone."

Dean's grin widened at her response, a hint of challenge in his eyes. "Fair enough. But wait, if you're so picky, then where's your boyfriend?"

Y/N's smile faltered slightly at the mention of a boyfriend, her mind racing to come up with a response. "Uh, well, you see... I don't actually have one," she admitted sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck. "I guess I just haven't found the right guy yet."

Dean's expression softened as he reached out to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You're a catch, Y/N. Any guy would be lucky to have you." They locked eyes, feeling a moment of quiet intimacy.

As Dean's hand gently enveloped hers, a rush of warmth surged through Y/N's veins, sending a flurry of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She couldn't help but be acutely aware of the contact, the sensation of his skin against hers sending shivers down her spine.

Feeling a sudden need to break the intimate connection between them, Y/N gently withdrew her hand from Dean's, a subtle shift in the atmosphere as she did so. Clearing her throat, she forced herself to focus on something else, anything else, to distract from the moment they had shared.

"So, Dean," she began, her voice slightly more subdued than before, "how many girlfriends have you had, anyway?" Dean blinked in surprise at the sudden change in topic, his expression momentarily caught off guard. "Uh, well, not as many as you might think," he replied, his tone casual as he tried to play it off.

"Jo was just... just joking that's all." He took another nervous sip of his beer. "I see," she murmured, her voice carefully neutral. "Well, I suppose we've all had our fair share of... acquaintances."

Dean’s eyes grew wide. “So, you’re saying...” She waited for him to continue.” I mean, you’re into one nights and stuff?” She laughs soft, “Don’t tell me you’re not? I mean...” Leaning in slightly, she met his gaze with a teasing twinkle of her own.

"Well, I suppose I'm just wondering how a smooth-talking Casanova like yourself manages to stay single for so long... " Dean chuckled, a roguish grin spreading across his face as he leaned in closer. "Ah, but maybe I've just been waiting for the right person to come along," he countered, his voice low and conspiratorial.

In that moment, as he watched her, Dean's thoughts raced a mile a minute. He couldn't deny the magnetic pull he felt towards Y/N, the way her laughter made his heart race and his pulse quicken. She was like a breath of fresh air, a ray of sunshine in his otherwise mundane existence, and he couldn't help but be drawn to her magnetic energy.

As Dean moved to close the tap, Ellen's voice cut through the buzz of conversation in the roadhouse. "Dean," she called out, her tone warm and affectionate, "she's a keeper, you know."

Dean paused mid-motion, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks at Ellen's words. He waved her comment away with a sheepish grin, trying to play it cool. "Ah, come on, Ellen. You know me, I don’t do relationships" he replied casually, though his heart was pounding in his chest.

But Ellen wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily. With a knowing smile, she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I've been running this roadhouse for a long time, Dean. And I've never seen you so invested in a date you brought in here."

Thanks, Ellen," he murmured, his voice genuine as he met her gaze while placing the money on the bar. she replied with a wink. "Just don't let her slip away, alright?"

As Dean opened the door for her, Y/N couldn't help but offer a playful remark about his gentlemanly behaviour. "Well, aren't you just the epitome of chivalry," she teased, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she climbed into the car.

The drive home was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the silence between them. Dean stole glances at Y/N whenever he thought she wasn't looking, his heart skipping a beat each time the streetlights illuminated her features.

There was something undeniably captivating about the way the light danced across her face, casting shadows and highlights in all the right places. And as Dean's eyes lingered on Y/N, a surge of arousal coursed through him at the tantalizing idea of the two of them spending the night together in his car.

With a shaky breath, Dean tore his gaze away from Y/N, focusing instead on the road ahead. He couldn't afford to let his mind wander down that path. Bobby would kill him.

But as they pulled up to Y/N's house Dean helped her out of the car, he couldn't shake the lingering sensation of arousal that filled the air between them. Unable to resist the magnetic pull between them any longer, he gently pushed Y/N back against the car, his hands pressing against the metal surface as he leaned in closer.

Y/N gasped softly as she felt herself being pinned between Dean and the Impala, the heat of his body radiating against hers. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of anticipation and nervous excitement coursing through her veins.

Dean's breath was warm against her skin as he hovered inches away from her, his eyes dark with desire as they locked with hers. There was a raw intensity in his gaze, a silent invitation that sent shivers down Y/N's spine.

And as Dean leaned in closer, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to hers, Y/N couldn't help but lean forward, her own desire mirroring his. Dean’s voice warm and deep as he spoke.

"I really enjoyed your company tonight," he murmured, his words filled with sincerity and longing. "I was hoping... maybe we could do this again sometime.”

"I'd like that," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she met Dean's gaze his lips brushed against hers, a jolt of electricity shot through Y/N, sending shivers down her spine. It was a gentle touch, tentative yet filled with a simmering intensity that left no room for doubt, this was no longer innocent flirting.

“Bobby has probably heard the engine a few minutes ago.” Dean whispers before giving her space. With one last lingering glance, Y/N reluctantly stepped away from Dean.

“You’re right, see you tomorrow?” She asks while passing him by. "Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, Sweetheart" he called out after her, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and anticipation.

Dean turned back towards the Impala, a flicker of excitement stirring in his chest.

Dean opened the shop as usual, but he saw Y/N standing in the shop, lights turned low. A few soft lights illuminating her figure. But it wasn't just any ordinary scene. He heard the soft rock music playing in the background.

... I've been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life...

Y/N was clad in lace lingerie, the delicate fabric clinging to her curves in all the right places, accentuating every contour of her body. Her hair cascaded in loose waves down her back.

... I've been waiting for a girl like you, you're a love that will survive...

Her hands deftly manoeuvring under the hood of his car. But it wasn't the car that captured Dean's attention, it was the way Y/N moved, the way her body swayed with each graceful motion, a mesmerizing dance of strength and beauty.

... I've been waiting for someone new to make me feel alive...

As Dean watched, his pulse quickened and his breath caught in his throat, a surge of desire coursing through him at the sight of Y/N in her lace lingerie, her skin bathed in the warm glow of the workshop lights. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

... Yeah, waiting for a girl like you to come into my life...

Y/N noticed Dean's intense gaze, a sly smile played on her lips. With a confident sway of her hips, she closed the hood of the impala then perched herself on top of it, her legs dangling over the edge as she leaned back against the warm metal.

"Come closer, Dean," she purred, her voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine. Her eyes danced with mischief as she beckoned him with a curl of her finger, a silent invitation for him to join her.

Unable to resist her allure, Dean took a hesitant step forward, his heart pounding in his chest at the sight of Y/N before him. She was a vision of temptation, her lace lingerie leaving little to the imagination as it clung to her curves.

As he drew nearer, Y/N reached out to him, her fingers trailing teasingly along his chest before coming to rest on his shoulders. With a gentle tug, she pulled him closer until he stood directly before her, their bodies almost touching, the heat of their proximity igniting a fire within them both.

As Dean's hands moved over Y/N's thighs, a shiver of anticipation ran down his spine. With a soft moan escaping her lips, Y/N parted her legs slightly, inviting Dean to stand in between them.

Dean stepped in between her legs, Y/N felt a surge of desire building within her, a primal need to be closer to him, to feel his body pressed against hers, his touch was intoxicating, his fingers tracing delicate patterns against her skin as he drew closer, the heat of his body radiating against hers.

With a longing sigh, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them. As Dean felt Y/N's legs closing around his hips, a surge of desire swept through him, his heart pounding with the intensity of their connection. With a low growl of longing, he leaned in to capture her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue pressing eagerly against hers as they melted into each other's embrace.

But just as their passion reached a peak, Dean was suddenly jolted awake by his alarm, his eyes flying open as he gasped for breath. Blinking in confusion, he found himself lying in bed, the remnants of his dream still swirling through his mind like wisps of smoke.

As the reality of his surroundings sank in, Dean couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at the abrupt end to his passionate encounter with Y/N. It had felt so real, so vivid and yet, it had all been nothing more than a dream.

With a sigh, Dean rubbed a hand over his face, trying to shake off the lingering effects of sleep. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to erase the memory of Y/N's touch, the taste of her lips still lingering on his tongue.

As Dean rushed into the garage, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nerves, he couldn't help but feel a surge of flustered anticipation at the sight of Y/N standing in the same spot as he had dreamed about.

She looked effortlessly cool in her old band shirt and overall knotted around her waist, her hair in a messy bun.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," Dean blurted out, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he tried to regain his composure. "I... uh, overslept." “Overslept, huh?" Bobby teased “Is that the name of girl that kept you awake this time.” He rolled his eyes at Y/N.

"Well, lucky for you, I haven't gotten much done yet." She winked at him.

As Dean approached her, he couldn't help but feel a sense of deja vu wash over him, it was almost as if he had stepped straight into his dream from the night before. But instead of feeling nervous or apprehensive, he felt a strange sense of comfort.

With a shaky breath, Dean cleared his throat, trying to shake off the lingering effects of his dream. "So, uh, what's on the agenda for today?" he asked leaning in against the truck she was working on, eager to distract himself from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.

Y/N flashed him a smile, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Well, first things first – we've got a lot of cars to fix," she replied quiet so Bobby wouldn’t hear her tone flirty. "And then... who knows? Maybe we'll have a little fun along the way."

As Dean's eyes widened at Y/N's playful comment, a surge of excitement coursed through him, his heart racing with anticipation. A sly grin spread across Dean's lips as he met Y/N's gaze, his own eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, is that a promise, sweetheart?" he teased, his voice laced with playful innuendo.

Y/N's smile widened at his response, her laughter echoing through the garage as she winked at him. "You'll just have to wait and see," she replied coyly, her tone filled with tantalizing suggestion.

With a playful twinkle in his eye, Dean rolled up his sleeves interrupted by Bobby's voice calling out to him from across the garage. "Dean, stop flirting, there is a phone call for you," Bobby said, his tone curt as he held out the receiver. "It's your mom."

Dean's heart skipped a beat at the mention of his mother, a pang of anxiety gripping him as he took the phone from Bobby. His mind raced with questions and concerns, had something happened? Was everything alright?

With a murmured "Thanks, Bobby," Dean brought the phone to his ear, his stomach churning with apprehension. "Mom?" he said tentatively, his voice tinged with worry.

Y/N glanced at Bobby, a look of concern furrowing her brow, ”Why is he acting so weird answering his mom?” Bobby sighed, his expression somber as he leaned against a nearby workbench.

"Dean's dad, passed away a few years back," he explained, his tone heavy with emotion. "Ever since then, he's been... different. Doesn't talk much about it, but I know he nearly never visits her or his brother.”

Y/N's heart sank at Bobby's words, a pang of sadness washing over her as she knew what Dean must have been through. Losing a parent was never easy. "I had no idea," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked back at Dean, who was focused intently on his work.

After another day of working Bobby asked Dean to come to dinner, just like had done almost every night.

As Y/N passed by the doorway, she couldn't help but overhear the hushed conversation between Dean and Bobby. Their voices carried through the air, tinged with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

"What did Mary want?" Bobby asked, "she, uh, she wanted to tell me that Sammy, eh, he's graduated from law school," he explained, his voice soft. "She wants me home for a surprise dinner next week."

Bobby's eyes widened in surprise at the news, a smile spreading across his face. "Well, that's great news!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "I bet your mom's thrilled."

Dean nodded, a hint of emotion flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, she's really excited," he admitted, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "It's been a while since we've all been together."

“But I told her I could come. I’m not in the mood.” Bobby frowned, his brow furrowing with concern as he looked at Dean. "Are you sure about that, son?" She sees Dean nodding. “I’m the disappointment of the family. All they will do is tell me how great Sammy turned out with Jess and his degree and how poorly I did.”

With a heavy heart Y/N turned back to the kitchen. ”I’ll take over aunty.” she said grabbing the dishes. A little later Dean moved beside her. “Let me help”, while taking the towel.

As Y/N and Dean stood side by side, washing the dishes a comfortable silence enveloped them. Y/N glanced over at Dean, a small smile playing on her lips as she appreciated his help.

Meanwhile, Karen and Bobby sat on the couch, "I see the two of them blooming," Karen said, her voice filled with warmth and affection. Bobby shook his head. "I'm not so sure," he replied, his tone cautious. "Y/N's a good kid, but I'm not convinced she's into Dean like that."

"No, no, he is growing on her, I can tell," Karen said, her voice filled with conviction. Bobby raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by Karen's observation. "And why do you think that?" he asked.

Karen leaned back against the couch, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Well, for one thing, they aren't fighting," she explained, her voice thoughtful. "And the way he moves around her... there's something different about it."

"You're right, they aren't fighting anymore like they used to," he conceded, his voice tinged with a hint of agreement. "But I still don't see any romance between them."

Just as Bobby and Karen looked away, the sound of Y/N’s voice filled the room, “DEAN!!”. drawing their attention back to them. Seeing how he splashed her with water.

They watched in amusement as the playful banter, they playfully sparred with each other. Dean swung a dish towel in Y/N's direction, earning a playful squeal from her as she dodged his attack. In retaliation, Y/N reached for a nearby dishcloth and flicked it in Dean's direction, causing him to grin mischievously as he deftly avoided the incoming splash.

Karen gave Bobby an all-knowing look. “Told you.” she said before leaning back.

As Y/N walked Dean outside to his car, she couldn't shake the conversation he had with Bobby earlier. But as they reached Dean's car and he leaned against it, pulling her in closer. Y/N felt a surge of surprise wash over her. It was rare for Dean to hold her this close without a few drinks in him, and the unexpected intimacy caught her off guard.

"Dean..." Y/N began, her voice trailing off as she searched for the right words to say. But before she could speak, Dean leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin as he pressed his forehead to hers.

"You know... It’s been a while since we spend time together outside of work or here at bobby’s.” He started. Y/N couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in her chest.

With a playful grin, Y/N teased him, "Are you asking me out on an official date, Dean?"

Dean's response caught her off guard, his words laced with a hint of vulnerability that tugged at her heartstrings. "What if I am?" he replied, his gaze steady as he met her eyes.

As Y/N asked Dean where they were going, suggesting the roadhouse, Dean's eyes sparkled with mischief as he considered her suggestion. With a gentle smile, he shook his head.

"Nah, you deserve something more than that, sweetheart." he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "Something fancy, something romantic with candlelight." A soft smile graced her lips as she met Dean's gaze, her eyes shining with appreciation. "That sounds absolutely lovely," she murmured.

Dean brushed a hair out of her face. “How’s Saturday?” With a warm smile, she nodded eagerly. "Saturday sounds perfect," she replied, her voice filled with excitement. "I can't wait." Dean's eyes lit up with a smile of his own, mirroring her enthusiasm as they shared a moment of shared anticipation.

With Saturday on the horizon.

As Y/N stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the straps of her red cocktail dress and slipping on her high heels, she couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in her chest. Tonight was the night, the fancy, romantic evening out with Dean that she had been eagerly anticipating.

Just as she was about to finish getting ready, Y/N heard Karen's voice behind her, filled with warmth and affection. "Need some help with your hair, dear?" Karen asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Y/N turned to see Karen standing there with a brush and a handful of bobby pins, a knowing smile on her lips. With a grateful nod, Y/N settled into the chair, allowing Karen to work her magic on her hair.

As Karen deftly pinned Y/N's hair up into an elegant style, she couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and familiarity wash over her. Karen had always been like a second mother to her, and she cherished these moments.

"You know, Dean is talking to Bobby right now," Karen said casually, her tone filled with amusement. "Bobby's giving him 'the talk,' like he's your father or something."

Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief at Karen's revelation, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the thought of Bobby giving Dean advice about relationships.

She couldn't help but feel a mixture of amusement and mortification at that thought.

"You know, Dean is a good boy," Karen said, her voice filled with warmth. "Sure, he's had his flirtatious moments, and he's had a few girlfriends, but he seems to change."

Y/N listened intently to Karen's words, her heart swelling with gratitude for the older woman's wisdom and insight. Despite any reservations she may have had about Dean's past, Karen's reassurances helped to ease her mind and set her at ease.

"Thank you, Karen," Y/N said softly, her voice tinged with appreciation. "I appreciate you saying that. It means a lot."

Karen smiled warmly at Y/N's words, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Of course, dear," she replied, her tone gentle. "Just remember, sometimes people surprise us in the best ways. And I have a feeling Dean might just be one of those people."

As Y/N descended the stairs, her heart pounding with excitement, she couldn't help but notice the way Dean and Bobby's eyes widened in awe as they caught sight of her. It was as if she had stepped straight out of a scene from a 90s teen movie.

All eyes on her as she made her grand entrance. Dean's jaw dropped slightly, his gaze lingering on her figure as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. Bobby's expression mirrored Dean's.

Dean found his voice, his words coming out in a soft whisper. "Wow," he breathed, his eyes shining with appreciation. "You look amazing, Y/N." Y/N felt her cheeks flush with warmth at Dean's compliment, a smile spreading across her lips.

Y/N nodded eagerly as Dean asked if she was ready. Taking her hand in his, Dean led her out to his car, the anticipation of the evening ahead filling the air with a palpable energy.

Y/N's eyes widened with delight as she took in the cozy ambiance and the soothing strains of jazz music drifting through the air. The scent of delicious tapas filled her senses, making her mouth water with anticipation.

As they settled into their seats, the warm glow of candlelight casting a soft halo around them, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the chance to share this special moment with Dean. With each passing moment, she felt her bond with him growing stronger, deepening their connection in ways she never thought possible.

As Dean took Y/N's hand in his, a thrill shot through her at the touch of his warm skin against hers. His gentle caress sent shivers down her spine “You look really beautiful tonight.”

“So do you handsome.” she smiles.

With a furrowed brow, Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of concern as she turned to Dean, her voice gentle as she asked why he didn't want to go home. But Dean's response was guarded, his eyes clouded with a hint of sadness as he shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N felt a surge of empathy wash over her as she looked at Dean, recognizing the pain that lurked behind his words. She knew better than to press him for answers, understanding that some wounds ran too deep to be easily healed.

Instead, she gently squeezed his hand, offering him a silent gesture of support and understanding. In that moment, surrounded by the comforting embrace of the jazz bar and the soft strains of music drifting through the air.

As Y/N observed Dean she couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't his usual scene. Sensing his discomfort, she gently suggested, "Hey, do you want to go somewhere else?" Dean looked up at her, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips as he nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that sounds good," he replied, his with gratitude.

They arrived at the roadhouse, the sight of the familiar building bringing a sense of warmth to Y/N's heart. As they stepped inside, the cozy ambiance and the welcoming smile of Ellen greeted them.

As Dean made his way to the bar after ensuring Y/N was comfortably seated at their table, he couldn't help but notice the warm smile that lit up Ellen's face as she greeted him.

Her eyes sparkled with admiration as she took in Y/N's appearance, She looks amazing." "She does, doesn't she?" Dean replied, a hint of pride in his voice as he spoke of Y/N. Ellen nodded in agreement, her smile widening as she poured him a drink.

As the evening progressed and the drinks flowed, Y/N and Dean found themselves growing increasingly relaxed in each other's company. Y/N felt a playful impulse take hold of her. With a mischievous grin, she slipped off one of her heels, her bare foot finding its way to rest against Dean's leg.

Dean looked down at her foot with a smirk, his eyes dancing with amusement as he felt the soft pressure of her foot against his knee. Without missing a beat, he reached down and gently ran his fingers along the curve of her ankle, his touch sending a shiver of delight coursing through her.

Feeling Dean's gentle fingers as he began to massage her foot, Y/N couldn't help but let out a soft sigh of pleasure, her eyes fluttering, Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal coursing through her veins.

The sensation of his touch against her skin sent shivers of delight dancing along her spine, igniting a fire of desire deep within her. Biting her lip to stifle a moan, Y/N felt her heart race with anticipation.

As Jo approached their table to say hello, Dean quickly withdrew his hands, a flicker of discomfort crossing his features as he shifted his focus to their unexpected guest. With a polite smile, he exchanged pleasantries with Jo, his attention momentarily diverted from Y/N.

But as Jo made her exit and Dean returned his gaze to Y/N, he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement rush through him at the sight of her foot inching further up his thigh. His eyes widened in surprise as he felt the undeniable bulge growing in his pants, a silent testament to the effect she had on him.

Dean couldn't suppress a subtle gasp of arousal, his heart pounding in his chest as he glanced over at Y/N, his eyes dark with desire. In that moment, the air between them crackled with tension, thick with unspoken longing and desire.

As Dean rose from their table to pay the tab, he couldn't ignore the undeniable bulge in his pants, a clear indication of the desire that burned fiercely within him. With a subtle shift, he attempted to discreetly reposition himself.

Leaning in close to Y/N as he whispered softly in her ear, his voice low and husky with longing. His breath warm against her skin. "I want you so much. I don't think I can wait until we get home."

Y/N got up and reached out to him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him close, her lips finding his in a fierce, passionate kiss. “Then let’s get out of here.”

On their way home.

As Y/N's hands roamed eagerly over Dean's thighs, tracing the outline of his bulge through his pants, Dean couldn't help but let out a low groan of pleasure. Her touch sent electric jolts of desire coursing through him.

Feeling her lips press against his neck in a trail of soft, lingering kisses, Dean felt his control slipping away turning the wheel and placing the car on the side of the road before he surrendered himself to the intoxicating sensation of her touch.

With a gasp of pleasure, he leaned into her, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer, his lips seeking out hers in a fierce, hungry kiss. Their passion reached a fever pitch as Dean's hand slipped beneath the hem of Y/N's dress, his fingers trailing along the soft curve of her thigh before moving higher, teasing her.

As Dean's fingers traced the delicate lace between Y/N's legs, a shiver of anticipation ran down her spine, her breath catching in her throat at the electrifying touch. Dean's mind wandered back to his dream, the memory fuelling the fire of his passion as he hovered above her in the backseat of the car.

With each caress, he felt the heat building between them, the intensity of their desire reaching new heights with every touch. Y/N's soft moans filled the air, driving him wild with longing.

As Y/N's desperate pleas filled the air, Dean felt a surge of primal desire coursing through him, igniting a fire of passion that burned hotter with each passing moment. With a hungry growl, he gave in to the intoxicating allure of her pleas, his fingers finding their way to the source of her desire.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Dean's fingers entered Y/N, plunging deep into her depths as she arched beneath him, as Y/N's cries of pleasure filled the air, Dean felt a surge of triumph wash over him, knowing that he was the one who had brought her to such heights of ecstasy.

With each thrust of his fingers, he drove her closer and closer to the edge, until she was teetering on the brink of release, her body trembling with anticipation. After her high she pushed Dean back.

And skilfully unzipped his pants, a rush of excitement coursed through him at the unexpected turn of events. He watched in stunned silence as she took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around him with a tantalizing warmth that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins.

Caught off guard by the intensity of sensation, Dean couldn't help but let out a low groan of pleasure as Y/N's tongue worked its magic on him, his head falling back. With each stroke, she drove him wild, her tongue working wonders as she took him deeper and deeper into her mouth.

Lost in the throes of ecstasy, Dean reached out to caress Y/N's hair, his fingers tangling in the silky strands as he guided her movements with gentle precision. The sensation of her mouth on him was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, sending waves of pleasure crashing over him with every flick of her tongue.

With each passing moment, the intensity of their passion grew, until Dean felt himself teetering on the brink of release, he knew he needed to slow things down before it was too late. With a desperate plea, he asked Y/N to stop, his voice thick with desire as he fought to regain control.

Feeling Y/N's lips reluctantly release him, Dean pulled her onto his lap, their bodies pressed together in a fiery embrace. With a primal growl of need, she began to grind against him.

And then, with a swift movement, Dean guided his dick to her soaking wet core. Feeling her stretching to accommodate him as he entered her with a slow, deliberate thrust. As he filled her completely, they both gasped in unison, their bodies trembling with the intensity of their shared pleasure.

Lost in the throes of passion, Dean and Y/N moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies moving as one as they surrendered themselves to the ecstasy of the moment.

As Dean's lips found their way to Y/N's breast, her breath caught in her throat at the delicious sensation of his mouth on her skin. With a soft moan of pleasure, she arched her back, offering herself to him as he teased her nipple with his tongue.

Y/N's fingers tangled in Dean's hair, urging him closer as she surrendered herself to the intoxicating sensation of his mouth on her skin. With each flick of his tongue, she felt herself growing more and more aroused, her body trembling with desire as he lavished attention on her sensitive flesh.

With a gentle suckle, Dean drew her nipple into his mouth, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her veins as he suckled and nipped. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and Y/N found herself gasping for breath.

As Dean felt Y/N tightening around him, signalling her release, he knew that he was on the brink of his own climax. With a primal groan of pleasure, he guided her hips, urging her to bounce up and down over his throbbing shaft, with increasing urgency.

And then, with a final, desperate cry, Y/N shattered into a million pieces, her pleasure cascading over her like a tidal wave as she rode the waves of ecstasy to the peak of her pleasure. In that moment, there was no room for anything else there was only the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that consumed them both.

As Dean pulled Y/N close to him, their bodies lying down, entwined in the intimate space of the back seat, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling of doubt that lingered in the back of his mind. With a heavy sigh, he turned to her, his eyes searching hers for reassurance.

"Do you think I'm making a mistake by not going home for Sam's party?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. Y/N gazed at him with a soft, understanding expression, her fingers gently tracing patterns of comfort along his chest. "Dean, only you can answer that," she replied gently. "But if I were you, I would go home.”

After a moment of contemplative silence, "Hey, uh... would you... want to come with me?” Y/N looked at him, her eyes soft with affection as she reached out to gently caress his cheek. "Of course, Dean," she replied with a warm smile. "I'd love to."

As relief flooded over him, Dean felt a weight lift from his shoulders, knowing that he wouldn't have to face his family alone. Dean leaned in to press his lips against Y/N's.

As Dean's nerves prickled at the thought of introducing Y/N to his mother, he felt a surge of uncertainty wash over him. With a deep breath, he reached for his phone, steeling himself for the conversation ahead.

As he dialled his mother's number, Dean's mind raced with questions. How would she react? What would she think of Y/N? And most importantly, how should he introduce her?

When his mother answered the phone, Dean hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Hey, Mom," he began, his voice tinged with nervousness. "I, uh... I wanted to let you know that I'm bringing someone with me to Sam's party tomorrow."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before his mother replied, her tone curious. "Oh? And who might this be?" Dean swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. "Her name is Y/N," he said, his voice steady despite his nerves. "And... she's eh,... my girl." He said looking at Y/N.

“Sure honey, I’m glad you can make it. See you tomorrow.”

Y/N teases him "your girl? Who says I want to be you girl?” Dean couldn't help but chuckle at Y/N's playful teasing, her words lightening the tension and bringing a smile to his lips. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he turned to her, his voice filled with humour as he played along with her joke.

"Who said I want you to be my girl?" he replied with a playful smirk, his tone teasing and light-hearted. "Maybe I'm just looking for someone to do my laundry and cook me dinner."

Dean leans in for another breath-taking kiss. Hearing the music in the background.

.... When you love someone,

Yeah, I really love someone,

Now, I know it's right ...

As Dean and Y/N packed a suitcase with a few changes of clothes, they couldn't shake the sense of anticipation that hung in the air. With the possibility of staying over at Mary's house looming in the distance, they wanted to be prepared for anything.

As they climbed into the car and Dean started the engine, Y/N settled into the passenger seat, her bare legs stretched out comfortably on the dashboard. Dean couldn't help but admire the sight, his hand instinctively reaching out to rest on her knee as they drove.

Despite the nerves that still lingered in the back of Dean's mind, he felt a sense of peace settle over him. As they neared their destination, Dean couldn't shake the swirling thoughts in his mind. He found himself reflecting on how unexpected it was to find himself falling for someone like Y/N.

She was different from the girls he had imagined himself settling down with but in all the best ways. Despite his growing feelings for her, doubt gnawed at the edges of Dean's mind. Was Y/N truly here because she felt the same way, or was she just along for the ride?

But as he stole a glance at Y/N beside him, her laughter filling the car and her eyes sparkling with mischief, Dean couldn't help but push aside his doubts. There was something undeniably special about her, something that made him feel alive in a way he had never felt before.

As the engine's rumble subsided, Mary, swung open the door with a warm smile spreading across her face. Dean felt a surge of affection as he embraced his mom, her familiar scent enveloping him in a comforting embrace.

"Hey, Mom," Dean greeted her, his voice filled with warmth. "This is Y/N."

Mary's eyes lit up with genuine delight as she turned to Y/N, extending her arms for a welcoming hug. "It's lovely to meet you, Y/N," she said warmly. Y/N returned the hug with a smile, feeling the warmth of Mary's embrace. "It's great to meet you too, Mary," she replied sincerely.

Just then, Sam, appeared in the doorway with a teasing grin. "Still driving that old piece of junk?" he quipped. Dean rolled his eyes with a good-natured chuckle, accustomed to Sam's teasing. "Hey, baby may be old, but she's never failed me." he retorted, a hint of pride in his voice.

As Dean greeted Jess with a warm hug, Y/N couldn't help but notice the subtle tension that lingered between the brothers. Despite the playful banter, there was an underlying coldness in their interactions that didn't escape her notice.

Once inside, Y/N's eyes were drawn to the pictures of their dad adorning the walls. She couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance between Dean and his father, the same rugged charm and confident smile mirrored in both their faces.

As Y/N's gaze fell upon a picture of Dean, Sam, and their father standing proudly next to the impala. The image captured a moment frozen in time, a snapshot of a father and his sons united by their love for each other and their shared passion for the sleek, classic car.

Feeling Y/N's eyes on him, Dean met her gaze with a bittersweet smile, the weight of memories lingering in his expression. Before he could say anything, Mary, sensing the somber atmosphere, approached them with a gentle smile.

"It used to be John's car," she said softly, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "He loved that car, spent countless hours tinkering with it in the garage, making it just right." Y/N smiles “Like father like son.”

As the conversation at the dinner table shifted to Sam's plans as a lawyer and Y/N's previous studies in economics, Dean couldn't shake the feeling of being left out.

He listened quietly as Sam and Y/N exchanged stories and aspirations, feeling a twinge of guilt for not having asked Y/N about her studies or plans for the future himself. Sam seemed to like Y/N. Keep asking his brother where he found her.

And more importantly how he is going to keep her since she is a smart woman looking for a career. In which Dean just smiled like he had a toothache and drank his beer.

As the night moved on a new whirlwind of doubt and insecurity popped up.

Dean observed Sam and Jess's affectionate displays of love, he couldn't help but feel a pang of uncertainty about his own relationship with Y/N.

Dean couldn't shake the nagging question of whether Y/N wanted the same level of physical affection or if she needed her personal space. Dean gently placed his hand on the back of Y/N's chair, a small loving gesture.

Y/N met his gaze with a soft smile, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. Leaning back in her chair, she reached out to place her hand on his knee, her touch sending a wave of comfort and reassurance through him.

“How do you know Bobby, Y/N?” Mary asked. Y/N glanced at Dean, a smile playing at her lips. "Oh, Bobby's actually my uncle," she replied, her tone light and casual. "I've been helping him out at his car repair shop for a while now.”

“Oh that’s nice, finally a woman who can handle his books.” Dean chuckled softly, "Y/N's not just good with paperwork," he interjected, a hint of pride in his voice. "She's a pretty amazing mechanic too."

Mary's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze shifting to Y/N "Is that so?" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with curiosity.

Y/N nodded, a modest smile on her face. "Yeah, I've picked up a few things from working with Bobby," she explained. "I've always had a knack for fixing things, and he's been a great teacher." Jess chimed in, her eyes alight with interest. "That's incredible," she remarked.

Dean grinned, his pride in Y/N evident as he continued to sing her praises. "She's better with cars than she wants to admit," he admitted with a chuckle, glancing fondly at Y/N.

Sam's question cut through the conversation, his curiosity piqued by Dean's unwavering trust in Y/N's abilities. "Would you trust Baby to her?" he asked. Without hesitation, Dean's answer was swift and resolute. "Absolutely," he declared, his confidence unwavering.

The room fell silent once the woman helped each other in the kitchen. The brothers seemed to have an awkward cold moment together. “Mom seems to like her.” Sam said to break the silence.

“Just mom?” He looked up at his younger brother, holding the beer in his hand. “No, I like her too Dean, I’m just...”

“Just what?” - “I’m just concerned how you two are going to fit together in the future.” Dean got irritated. “What do you mean by that Sammy?” - “She wants to study and build a life. You never talked about a family.”

Dean kept quiet knowing he had the same questions.

As Dean and Y/N retreated to his old bedroom, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over her as she took in the surroundings. The room was a testament to Dean's past, filled with posters of classic cars and iconic supermodels like Cindy Crawford and Naomi Campbell.

Strolling around the room, Y/N's fingers trailed over the edges of the posters, a smile playing at her lips as she imagined Dean as a younger man, dreaming of fast cars and glamorous women. It was a side of him she hadn't seen before, a glimpse into his past that made her feel closer to him in a way she hadn't expected.

Turning to Dean, she couldn't help but tease him gently. "Nice taste in posters," she remarked with a playful grin, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I can see you had some... interesting choices."

Dean chuckled, a hint of embarrassment colouring his cheeks as he looked around the room. "Hey, don't judge," he replied with a smirk. "I was a teenager, what can I say, I liked nice things."

As Y/N moved to close the door, Dean's eyes grew wide. “Eh maybe leave that open.” Y/N noticed his nerves. "Come on, Dean, a little privacy wouldn't hurt," she teased, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Or is there something behind this door?”

Despite his protest, Y/N gently pushed the door closed, the soft click echoing in the room. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, her gaze falling on the posters of Pamela Anderson adorning the door.

Her grin widened as she pointed to the poster. "Aha, jackpot!" she exclaimed, unable to contain her amusement.

Dean's cheeks flushed slightly as he glanced at the poster, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. unable to hide his embarrassment. "Yeah, well, who didn't have a crush on her back then?" he replied, trying to play it off with a nervous chuckle.

Y/N couldn't help but tease him further, a playful glint in her eyes. "Sorry I'm not the Pam type," she teased getting in bed next to him, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "Maybe I should start wearing a red swimsuit and running in slow motion."

"Nah, you're way better than Pam," he replied, his eyes softening as he looked at her. Y/N grinned at his words, feeling a warmth spread through her chest.

As Y/N nestled into Dean's arms, his voice broke the silence, his tone tinged with a hint of awkwardness. "It's kinda weird being back in my old room," he confessed, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns on her back.

Y/N chuckled softly, her breath warm against his chest. "Tell me about it," she replied with a playful grin. "It's not every day I get to stare at Pamela Anderson while lying in bed with my boyfriend."

Dean's lips curled into a playful smirk as he leaned in closer to her. "Well, then, maybe you should focus on me instead," he suggested, his eyes dancing with mischief. Before Y/N could respond, Dean was already moving, his body hovering over hers as he captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

The loud squeak of the bed drew a laugh from Y/N, breaking the momentary silence that had settled between them. "How did you do it back in the day, without your parents knowing?" she quipped, her voice filled with amusement.

Dean chuckled, the sound warm and genuine as he shifted his weight on the bed, placing him next to her, pulling her in a hug. "Believe it or not, I never had a girl in this bed," he admitted with a sheepish grin.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Really? I find that hard to believe," she teased. He kissed her head, “No I'm serious.” Dean pulled Y/N close, holding her tightly in his arms as they lay together, a silence fell upon them while Y/N’s finger drew circles on his chest.

“Hey, eh you’ve seen my type... what are your exes like?” Y/N hesitated, her expression guarded as she considered how to respond. "They're... different," she finally admitted, her voice soft yet tinged with uncertainty.

Dean's brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to piece together her answer. "Different how?" he pressed, his voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Y/N sighed, her gaze drifting away for a moment before she met Dean's eyes once more. "Let me guess, they're... in university or in their dad's business by now, right?." he asked, she searched for the right words to answer.

Dean's heart sank at her silence, a sense of inadequacy washing over him as he realized how different he was from her past partners. "So, they're like Sam," he guessed, his voice tinged with resignation.

Y/N nodded slowly, her expression sympathetic. "In some ways, yes," she admitted, her voice gentle yet filled with empathy. "But that doesn't mean they were right for me."

Dean thought for a second before his voice broke the silence, his words soft and earnest. "I want to tell Bobby about us," he confessed, his tone tinged with uncertainty. She gazed up at Dean, searching his eyes for an answer, her heart aching with the knowledge that their time together was limited. “Dean... why, I mean are you sure?”

His eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and determination as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from Y/N's face. "I don't want to hide it anymore" he replied, his voice gentle yet resolute. "I want the world to know how much you mean to me. That it’s not just a fling.”

"But... what when I leave?" she asked, her eyes searching his for reassurance.

A wave of sadness washing over him as he struggled to find the right words to say. "You don't have to leave," he blurted out, his voice raw with emotion. "We could take over Bobby's shop together. We could build a future here, together."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at his suggestion, her heart aching with the enormity of the decision before her. "But.. I want to study, I want my degree." she whispered,” That was always the plan, you know that... right?”

A pang of hurt coursing through him as he realized that their dreams might not align as perfectly as he had hoped. "I understand," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I thought that maybe you felt the same way I do."

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes as she reached out to cup his cheek, her touch gentle yet filled with love. "I do feel the same way, Dean," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "But we have to be realistic. We both have dreams, and we can't let them go."

"Don't you think we could make it work, I could wait for you?" He continued, afraid she sees him as a plaything for a while, afraid his reputation necked him. "I don't want to hold you back, Dean," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t want you to wait for me for another year or two. Who knows who you meet.”

“Or who you meet.” he echoed.

Y/N's heart ached as she watched the pain flicker in Dean's eyes, his expression clouded with a mixture of sadness and insecurity. She could sense his turmoil, his desire to retreat into himself and shield his heart from further hurt.

“Goodnight sweetheart” he kisses her soft before turning his back to her.

Without hesitation, she reached out to him, wrapping her arms around him, her cheek to his shoulder, in a tender embrace. "Dean," she whispered, her voice soft and reassuring. "No man has ever made me feel as safe and loved as you do."

She places a soft kiss on his shoulder, feeling she needs to make sure he knows she isn’t playing around. “Why don’t we start with telling Bobby. We’ll figure it out from there.”

Y/N feels his hand caressing her thigh. Feeling how he eased up.

“Dean! Dean wake up!”

Dean's eyes snapped open, his heart racing as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. He blinked in confusion, his mind still foggy from sleep as he tried to piece together what was happening.

"S-Sam?" he stammered, his voice hoarse as he looked around the dimly lit room.

Sam stood before him, his expression unreadable as he approached Dean cautiously. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Dean's pulse quickened as he realized that something was terribly wrong. Memories of Y/N's embrace and their tender conversation flooded his mind, but as he looked around the unfamiliar room. “What happened?”

“A djinn.” Sam answered, "We need to get you out of here," he said, his voice urgent as he began to untie the ropes that bound Dean to the chair. Moving from Dean to the chair next to him.

His stomach churned, his heart skipped a beat as he looked at the girl sitting beside him, her presence filling him with a mix of confusion and disbelief.

It couldn't be possible, could it?

"Y/N?" he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur as he searched her face for any sign of recognition.

The girl's eyes still closed, “Hey, hey ,wake up.” Dean took over from Sam, kneeling before her, San know stood confused behind his brother.

Her eyes slowly open. "D-Dean?" she breathed, her voice tinged with disbelief.

A sense of relief washed over Dean as she recognised him. Despite the impossibility of the situation, he couldn't deny the overwhelming sense of joy that flooded through him at the sight of her.

“Let’s take you home, sweetheart.“ Dean and Sam drove Y/N home. She offers them a shower.

After his refreshment, Sam drove on to fetch some food, leaving Dean and Y/N alone in the quiet of her home, a palpable tension hung in the air between them. Dean shifted uncomfortably, his mind racing with a million thoughts and emotions as he tried to find the right words to say.

He waited by the window in the living room, looking outside, waiting for her to bring him some fresh clothes. “These are eh, well my exes. But I think they might fit you. The bathroom is down the hall.”

She hands him the clothing. Their hands touch.

Y/N glanced at him, her expression softening with concern as she took in his features. "Are you okay?" he asked, "I... I don't know," she admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Dean nodded, his grip tightening on the fabric.

“Everything felt so... real. And then I woke up, and it's like none of it ever happened." Y/N pinched her nose. Dean hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching Y/N's face for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. "Hey, uh, can I ask you something?" he began.

Y/N nodded, Dean took a deep breath, steeling himself for her response. "What did the djinn show you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N's brow furrowed in confusion, her gaze searching his face for any hint of deceit. "Why do you want to know?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Dean hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as he debated whether or not to reveal his own experience to her.

Shrugging his shoulders.

"I... I was back in college, working over the summer with my uncle," she began, her voice trembling slightly with apprehension. Dean nodded, his expression thoughtful as he listened intently to her words. "That sounds like a good gig," he commented.

A soft smile appears on her face while she thought about it, "Yeah, it was," she replied, her voice soft yet filled with emotion. The silence stretched between them, thick with tension as Y/N braced herself.

Dean took a step closer, cleared his throat, "Uh, did your uncle have a car repair shop?" he asked, his voice casual yet tinged with curiosity. Y/N's eyes grew wide in surprise at his question.

"Yeah, he did," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Dean’s heart made a jump realising they had the same dream. He flashed a mischievous grin as he leaned in closer to Y/N, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"So, did your uncle had a handsome mechanic working for him?" he teased. Her eyes sparkling with amusement as she shook her head. "Annoying, definitely, handsome.... maybe," she replied, her tone light and teasing.

Dean chuckled at her response, his grin widening as he leaned in closer. "Well, lucky for him, there was a pretty great niece to keep him company." Y/N smiled at his words, her heart fluttering with warmth as she met his gaze. "Yeah, I guess she's pretty lucky too."

Dean made his way to the bathroom

As the brothers were ready to leave Y/N stood at the door. “Well promise me you take care of yourself and her.” She nodded to the impala. Dean smiled soft, “same for you sweetheart.”

He turned his back to walk away with a heavy heart.

His hand on the car door.

“Dean?” He looked up. “I know it wasn’t real... But for what it’s worth... I meant it every word I said to you.” He smiled and nodded slowly.

Dean turned on the engine, the radio started playing music.

... You're so good

When we make love it's understood

It's more than a touch or a word we'd say...

“What was that about?” Sam asked. “What, eh, nothing.” Dean looked straight out on the road.

...Only in dreams could it be this way...

-----------

Song lyrics : Foreigner - Waiting for a girl like you

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aylacavebear · 13 days

Text

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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valleydean · 10 months

Text

The Beginning

Story by: valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) Art by: sidewinder @hawkland

Rating: Explicit

Word count: ~118k

Tags/archive warnings: endverse, zombie apocalypse, graphic depictions of violence, blood and gore, drug use, animal death, Dean POV, Cas POV, Castiel's loss of angelic grace, newly human Castiel, jealous Dean, fear of abandonment, angst, rough sex, body horror, internalized homophobia, denial, minor Cas/OC, drugs as a coping mechanism, sex as a coping mechanism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn, slow build, codependency

Summary: One year ago, soon after Lucifer was freed from the Cage, Dean and Sam parted ways. Since then, Dean has been hunting on his own and, along with Cas despite his declining grace, searching for a way to prevent the apocalypse. When the outbreak of the Croatoan virus begins, Dean and Cas head to Bobby’s to plan their next move. On the way, as the contagion rapidly spreads through America, they must contend with the rabid infected, martial law, and humans who will do anything to ensure their own survival.

Preview:

Cas stepped to the other side of the door and turned around to face Dean. Dean stopped walking, looking forward at Cas and waiting for him to say anything at all.

When he did, it was, “In there.”

Dean pulled his brows together, his eyes flashing to the dark window panel in the door. The directional light of his flashlight bounced off of it, obscuring whatever was inside. The glass was a deeply black mirror.

His gut clenched, feeling like someone had shoved their hand into his intestines and was trying to rip them out. He slowly brought his face closer to the window. His transparent reflection stared back pensively. He looked beyond it, squinting and refocusing his eyes.

There were bodies in there—maybe three of four. He couldn’t really tell. Some of them were in pieces. Pools of blood soaked them, glinting like a knife in the moonlight that fought its way through the dirty windows.

Dean opened his mouth, about to ask what the hell happened.

Something slammed against the other side of the glass. A bloody hand. Dean jumped back, his shout echoing down the hall. It shattered the bubble of silence—so, too, did the banging on the glass as the man inside tried to beat his way out of the room. His dripping red fists pounded incessantly, leaving smears on the window. He was giving off animalistic grunts and hisses.

“What the…” Dean said, his heart still in his throat. He looked at Cas, demanding an answer. Part of him wanted to blame Cas, to ask him why the hell he slaughtered people and left them in a room. But maybe they weren’t people. Then, what? Demons? Monsters?

Something didn’t add up.

The man kept doing everything he could to bust through the glass. Dean noticed the paring knife clutched in his fist.

Cas didn’t kill those people.

“I led them here and locked them inside,” Cas said, as if he’d read Dean’s mind. “They killed each other.”

The lines of Dean’s forehead bunched up when he lifted his brows in surprise. There was something he was missing. It felt like a forgotten word on the tip of his tongue. A distorted memory from a faded dream.

“You’ve seen this before,” Cas supplied. “The Croatoan virus.”

The words hit Dean like a truck. Blanching, he said, “Croatoan? You mean, the thing that turns everybody into Jack Torrance?”

“No, the demon virus that triggers murderous actions in anyone who contracts it,” Cas corrected, and Dean was still too busy freaking out to tell Cas they pretty much said the same thing. Pressing his lips together, Cas turned his gaze on the door, and there was a subdued kind of despondency in them, like he was trying to control how much emotion he showed on his face. “It’s one of the signs of the apocalypse. This is Lucifer’s doing. He unleashed the Horseman Pestilence.”

“Pestilence,” Dean echoed, the word taking a long time to process. He remembered, thirteen months ago, when he and Sam cut the ring off War’s fingers. That had been the day he and Sam parted ways. Dean hadn’t seen his brother since. He’d only talked to him once on the phone, when Sam called him a few weeks later to tell Dean that Lucifer wanted him as his meatsuit.

Dean rattled his head, trying to shake loose any thoughts of Sam. He focused on Cas saying, “The entire town’s been infected.”

Dean remembered how quickly the virus spread—and how it spread. An infected person had to bleed into someone’s open wound. Once the blood mixed, that was it. Soon after, the victim would turn into a one-track-mind, bloodthirsty monster.

He glanced back at the doorway. The man was still standing behind the glass, looking at Dean like he was lunch, but at least he’d stopped pounding on the window.

“It isn’t the only one,” Cas continued. “There are pockets of the virus across America—possibly the world.”

How hadn’t Dean heard about this? His chest felt too small, like his ribcage was shrinking around his heart and lungs. “Where’d it start?”

“I don’t know.”

Coming this October to @deancashorrorfest

#deancashorrorfest #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #endverse #siderwinder art #destiel fanart #deancas fanart #horror au #my writing #hawkland

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atinylittlepain · 3 months

Text

Part Two

no outbreak!joel miller x f!oc

series playlist

joel miller masterlist

series masterlist

She's tired. He's tired. They're neurotic. They're in love. Something needs to change. They need to change.

word count | 5.1k

chapter content info | 18+ little angst, couples counseling, just two tired people trying to figure out the tangle of their relationship together

a/n | part two is here, and i'd just like to say thank you to everyone being so kind about the first part - i know this isnt the usual peepaw fare, so thanks for giving her a chance - and also big thank you to @wannab-urs for beta-ing this bad boy <3

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This is not a failure. She is not failing. They are not failing. Every Thursday at four o’clock she shuts her laptop and locks her office and stops in the bathroom at work, silently repeats these things to herself in her mind while she rubs her fingers at smudged mascara in the bathroom mirror. Like a mantra, though she’s not sure she’s fully bought into it yet. Because the truth is, she has had plenty of conversations with plenty of girlfriends that, really, they shouldn’t have been having about other girlfriends, not in the room with us girlfriends who, did you hear, started going to therapy and, did you hear, started going to therapy with their, oh no, husbands. Yes, she has been the bitch who has made jokes about death knells and a marriage’s last gasp for breath, jokes about the husband having the emotional range of a goldfish, and the wife being so up the husband’s ass she should give him a colonoscopy while she’s at it. She’s not really making jokes like those anymore.

She’s not supposed to be doing what she’s doing this Thursday at four o’clock. When they first went to Vicky (LMFT, for the record) her fundamental decree had been a period of full separation. Sixteen years, she had asked, and they had nodded, and she had said whoa boy, yeah, y’all need to back off each other before we do anything else. If Paula Dean had a penchant for self-help instead of butter, she’d be something like Vicky. And so, with all the care of a drill sergeant delivering commands, or a mechanic running a diagnostic on a fucked-up car, Vicky had told them how this is going to go. An apartment, she said, don’t care which one of you lives in it. Minimal contact between sessions, right, keep it civil, right, this isn’t for forever, right. So Joel got an apartment, and Tommy helped him move all the furniture in the basement with admittedly minimal, but still present, wariness, and for the last four weeks they’ve been doing everything their beloved herr-therapist tells them. She supposes it’s working, although you can’t really do much fighting when you only see the other person for ninety minutes every Thursday so, the results might be confounded, actually.

“Hey there.” Hey there? What the fuck, what the actual fuck. He doesn’t think he’s ever said those words to her, ever, maybe not to anyone actually. He feels a little insane, a little itchy under the skin, mouth full of cotton, brain too, because they’re not supposed to be doing this, not really. The first time she’s seen the apartment, or, well, the doorway of the apartment, doesn’t really seem interested in stepping further inside, running her curled palm up and down the strap of her purse and right, not here for that. He shuts the door behind him and then they’re on their way to therapy because it’s four o’clock on Thursday and this is what they do now at four o’clock on Thursday.

“Thanks again. I didn’t think my car would still be in the shop today.”

“Oh of course, you said it’s a transmission leak?”

“Yeah, the bad, expensive kind that’s above my paygrade. Guy said they’re still waiting on a part for it.”

“Well I’m off work tomorrow if you need a ride anywhere.”

“Vicky’ll get pissed.”

“If she finds out. Are you gonna tell on me to Vicky?” It’s a joke, they can joke, right? She laughs a little on the end of her words to make it clear, hey, it’s a joke, awkward and out of touch and unsure of what the rules are. But he offers a breath of a laugh, at least, fine, it’s fine, they’re fine, and now they’re silent driving to Vicky’s office.

Should he ask her how her week has been? If the kitchen sink is still leaking? He’s not sure. Not sure about any of it, really. Every week, Vicky asks them how they think they’re doing and Cass doesn’t even hesitate. Good, she says. Not fine, not okay, but good, usually with a sure, terse nod. It takes him a little longer to find the right word to describe how he’s doing. Not sure about that either, but it’s definitely not good. Some things are better, sure, easier not to argue when under foot, easier not to remember all the ghosts they’ve built up around themselves. But at the most basic level, he misses her, even misses arguing with her, in a perpetual state of missing something, walking around and wondering if he left his wallet at home, or if he remembered to call a client about a new build, wondering if he’s missing something essential, a limb or an organ he didn’t know about. No, none of that. Missing something else.

“You’re not wearing your ring.” She flexes her left hand over the steering wheel in response, her very bare ring finger making him feel a quick pinch of something he’ll call anger, though it’s probably something else entirely.

“No, Vicky advised I try not wearing it during the separation.”

“Why the fuck would she tell you to do that?”

“Joel.”

“I’m just asking.”

“You’re swearing.”

“Well, why didn’t she say the same thing to me?”

“Maybe because I told her this is how you would react.”

“I think I’m having a pretty normal reaction to it, actually.”

“It’s not a big deal. It’s just for now.”

“Right.”

“It is.”

“Seems like a strange thing to advise someone to do when they’ve been married for nearly two decades.” She parks outside of the office complex that Vicky works in, lets out a long sigh through her nose and doesn’t spare him a glance as she reaches around to the backseat and pulls her purse up front, producing her ring from somewhere deep inside of it and sliding it back on her finger.

“There, are you happy now?”

“Why the hell were you keeping it in your purse?”

“Oh my god, really?”

“That’s a real easy way to lose it is all I’m saying.” The truth is, she’s been keeping it in her purse in order to have easy access to it. Like a pulsepoint, sometimes she just needs to know it’s there, reaching into her purse underneath her desk and yep, still there, still okay. Sometimes she doesn’t get through a whole day without putting it back on. Like reflex, like ghost limb aching. But she’s not about to tell him that.

“Do not bring this up with Vicky.”

“Why not?”

“Because then she’ll know we drove here together.”

“You’re that worried about what Vicky thinks?”

“She’s our therapist, I’m a healthy and appropriate amount worried about what Vicky thinks.”

“You know she’s not the arbiter of marriage just because she has a couple of degrees, right?”

“Really, the arbiter of marriage?”

“Are you doing that thing you do, is that what this is?”

“What thing?”

“Cass.”

“What thing?”

“Are you trying to win therapy?” Fuck him. No, really, fuck him. He’s doing that thing, his thing to her thing, half a smile in the passenger’s seat like he’s got her. Awful, of course he’s got her, smug and sure in his getting her. She doesn’t answer his question, knowing that her silence is an answer in and of itself and not really caring because they have therapy, damn it, and it’s going to be his fault if they’re late to therapy, damn it.

“You know, I’m starting to see why Vicky told us no carpooling to sessions.” Slammed shut, he sighs when she gets out of the car, thinking idly to himself that yes, he doesn’t necessarily disagree with that commandment of their therapist either. At the very least, Cass’ ring is still on her finger. He tried a few times in the past to get her something new, something nicer than the gold band he had given her when they were still young and still not able to afford much of anything, but sure enough in each other to want to keep doing it, all of it, together. No, she would tell him, doesn’t want anything other than the gold band. What she doesn’t know is that he pawned his grandfather’s watch and an electric saw for the ring the shop owner kept in a padlocked display case. Twenty-six years old, and looking back, he thinks he would have sold a whole lot more just to get it for her.

He used to call her pearl. Something about grit that would make her roll her eyes and ask him what late night National Geographic TV special he got that line from, all the while inwardly swooning because sure, she had been baby before, babe, an errant sweetheart even, but pearl was new, and tooth-decayingly sweet. And when he proposed, Sarah bouncing around them like a manic cupid, Cassandra made an ugly sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry, little black velvet box and a ring that was more signet than wedding, simple and gold and a single pearl set in the center of it. Her hands clasped, she runs the pad of her finger over her ring, wordless and worrying it on the elevator ride up to Vicky’s office.

Vicky has a thing for lamps and art prints of naked women. Her waiting room is a little dim, no windows, green velveteen loveseat and two high-backed wooden chairs that they always take when they get here, his eyes scanning over the coffee table laden with back-ordered Psychology Today magazines, headlines about overcoming anxiety and exercising your way out of depression. There had been one about postpartum depression somewhere in the pile the last time they came, but he had made a point of hanging back after Cass left, some excuse about checking an insurance thing with Vicky, though what he really did was pluck out that magazine and throw it away in the men’s restroom down the hall. One less thing to worry about, at the least.

“Hi, you two, come on back.” The sessions always start the same. Vicky asks them how they think the week went, and they both offer up some iteration of fine. Vicky asks them if they’ve been upholding their phase of separation, and she answers before Joel can, pointedly not looking at him, yes, no contact between sessions. But apparently, this week is going to be different.

“We are nearing the end of the total separation phase. After this initial period of cooling off for both of you, the real work can begin.” Right, phases, because Vicky works in phases like this is some sort of military siege. He tries not to roll his eyes at the real work beginning.

“Can either of you remember the last date you went on together?”

“It would’ve been in August, right before the separation.” Cass scoffs at his answer, tilt of her head like, really?

“Tommy and Maria’s baby shower hardly counts as a date. But we did go to dinner at the end of July.”

“I don’t think your work banquet counts either.” Vicky hits them with that look, that yeah, that’s what I thought look, all raised brow and scrunched nose and nodding. Not that she is, but if she, hypothetically, were trying to win therapy, Cassandra thinks she wouldn’t be doing a great job of it right now.

“Right, well, you’ve made my point for me. It’s not unusual for people who have been together for as long as you two have to let things like this fall to the wayside. However, it can be very helpful to reestablish some of these routines. Think of it as marriage maintenance.”

“So you want us to start going on dates again?”

“Yes, but not with each other.” Did she? Did he? Hear that right? Cass is nodding like it’s the most reasonable thing in the world, like, yes, of course, this is just the solution they’ve been looking for. This time, he doesn’t hold back a laugh.

“I’m sorry, what?” Both of them look at him like, yes, keep up, please, let us explain this to you very slowly so you can keep up, please. Something about seeing what life is like outside of their marriage, testing the waters, seeing if they still like the same things without their extra marital limb, something about making a decision about their marriage, though he tunes most of that part out because, no, thanks, no new decision has been needed since he got down on one knee during that trip to Galveston, sunscreen and sticky sweet and he’s not sure if he or Sarah was more excited, but he was definitely more nervous. And Cass said yes, and then he wasn’t nervous anymore, not scared anymore, and that’s all there was to it, is to it, right? Right.

“This is the closing exercise of the total separation phase. It’s really important that you both have this opportunity to see what it’s like to be back in the dating pool. Think of it as a trial run of if you decide to make this separation–”

“No, no thanks. That’s not– we’re not those people, so, you know, we can just move onto the next phase.”

“Joel.” The mom voice of all things, and he knows for certain now that Cass is trying to win therapy, nudging her shoe into the side of his, and, come on, really? She’s really bought that hard into what Vicky’s selling? Now that, that isn’t like her, at all.

“What feelings are coming up for you right now, Joel?” She fucking hates that question, and she imagines that he does too, fingers drumming on his knee, long sigh, and she knows that look, that’s his getting ready to bolt look. Big man, big, skittish man who has accidentally nailed his fingers to house frames and hardly shed a tear. But feelings? Yeah, forget it.

“Uh, I guess I’m confused as to why that is so important for us to do. We came here to help our– to help us, not to create more problems.”

“And you think that if you and Cassandra went on dates, one date, with other people, that it would create more problems in your marriage?” Well, it’s hardly rocket science, Vicky, though judging by the way she’s speaking to him, he’s pretty sure he failed some kind of test of hers. He doesn’t particularly care.

“I imagine it’d do that to anyone’s marriage.”

“It’s just one date, it’s a part of the process.” She’s starting to get pissed, and trying very hard not to show it in front of Vicky should she get the what feelings are coming up for you treatment. When they agreed to start going to therapy, like a pair of dogs gagging down a pill, they had both agreed to put their full effort into it, and if Vicky wasn’t in the room with them currently, Cassandra would sharply remind him of that agreement.

“Maybe I should clarify the expectations around this exercise. It’s one date, preferably with people outside of your shared social circle, and it would be best if the focus is just on the date, no sexual relations.”

“Oh really, you think that’d be best?”

“Joel.” He gives her a slack and slanted look, speaking two different languages, apparently. And really, she doesn’t see what the big deal is. One date versus sixteen years is pretty obvious math for her to square up, though it doesn’t seem to be for him. But, watching him engage in psychological tennis with Vicky, some new jab dripping in sarcasm for every reassurance she tries to offer him, the realization comes to Cassandra slowly, simply. Joel is scared.

By the time they leave Vicky’s office, he feels deflated, defeated, because yes, they are, apparently, going to do this fucking exercise that fucking Vicky has fucking assigned to them, scheduled in three weeks instead of one to give them time to do this fucking exercise that fucking Vicky has fucking assigned to them.

“Can’t we just, you know, say we did it but not actually do it?”

“Are you serious right now?” Judging by the look she gives him, a quick, sharp flicker of her eyes before she focuses back on the road, he thinks he probably shouldn’t say anything else. He shouldn’t, but, well.

“Is this about pleasing Vicky, or are you just that interested in dating someone else?”

“Don’t be a child about this, Joel. It’s a therapeutic–”

“It’s bullshit is what it is. I don’t– I already know what I want, and I don’t need to go testing the waters to be sure of it. What I’m not so sure about is if you can say the same.” She can’t put her finger on anything specific, probably just a slow-building amalgamation of things. Stressful week at work, and the leaking sink getting worse, and her doctor increasing a medication dosage that’s made her body feel like something other than her body, and this fucking therapy and this fucking trying and she’s trying so hard and she feels like she’s failing and when she glances at him he looks hurt, really hurt, a close crumple in his face, deep frown, and it frustrates her because all she’s trying to do is do it right, and all she gets is this constant rhythm of resistance, this push and pull and yes, it’s all of that, all of that creeping up her throat tight and hot and curling behind her eyes sending salt pinpricks and sharp pangs. When the first sob breaks, it does so as a gasp, like a small and stunned thing in her chest. And, well, it’s never uphill from there, is it?

“Do you– do we need to pull over?”

“No, I don’t need to fucking pull over. I’m not an invalid, I can cry and drive at the same time.” Except it doesn’t come out quite like that, not smooth like that. The words get stop-started with each new shudder, new stutter, hiccuping on fucking and invalid. The world has gone to slanted stained-glass through all her tears.

Unsure what to do, but that’s nothing new. He doesn’t say anything else, watches her through the wary side of his eye, sobs turning into something more subdued, little wounded sounds high in her throat, a choice fuck you with a little more bite behind it when someone cuts her off merging onto the highway. He feels useless, feels like, maybe, this is what Vicky should be talking with them about instead of her siege on marriage plan. All he knows is that he seems to get it wrong every time, so this time, he doesn’t interject or intervene, doesn’t say any more than he already has. He lets her cry, and he lets her drive.

He doesn’t know when it happened. When he decided he was going to fix things for her, or just fix her, really. His lady in pieces and he was going to put her back together, and it seemed like every time he tried to, she just shattered a little more. That April is the obvious answer, the most shattered he had ever seen her. But the fighting had started before then, and so had the fixing that wasn’t really fixing. Like a relief, like a release, the slow realization that no, it never worked, and no, it was never going to work. The sobs turn into shivers turn into something even smaller. By the time they pull up in front of his apartment complex, it has passed.

“I just– I want to do this right, this therapy thing, and I want it to work, and I want it to work so we can be okay again. That’s what I want.” The words hang between them. He makes no move to get out of the car, and she counts her inhales in the silence, waiting for him to say something, anything. It feels like a child’s logic, or maybe a hail Mary, and she knows it, feels a little insane saying it, the words fitting strangely in her mouth. The brief wondering comes to her, what would she have said about where they are now to her girlfriends, what snark, what sharp jokes at their expense? Him in an apartment and a fifteen minute drive separating them and a woman named Vicky unraveling (and in theory, putting back together) their marriage in phases, fucking phases, and fucking Vicky. She doesn’t want to go on a date with someone else, and she doesn’t know why she’s taking Vicky’s instructions as gospel. But she does know, doesn’t she? It’s not about Vicky, not about Vicky and her fucking phases. Fixing, being fixed, that’s what she wants.

“So, you’re saying you want us to date other people in order to fix our marriage.” Grateful that she takes it for the joke he meant it as, it’s just enough to slough off some of the tension, roll of her eyes, please. They both let out a sigh, too tired for much else. But maybe, he thinks, this counts as progress, sitting here with her in the car and the sun washing everything down burnt and orange. He watches her eyes drop shut for a moment, fine lines like porcelain fissures and he loves those lines, liked catching her in the bathroom with her face pressed up close to the mirror and her fingers pulling those lines taut around her eyes, her mouth. He’d pull her hands away from her face, ask her if she was planning her halloween costume for next year, earning a scoff and a roll of her eyes and her trying to pull away from him, and he wouldn’t let her. Making it better with kisses to those lines, and eventually, her pressing her fingers as light as prayers over his, an implicit wondering, where did the time go?

“Look, if it really makes you that uncomfortable, let’s just lie to Vicky. We could still get like, an A-minus in therapy if we leave just one thing out.”

“I didn’t realize therapy came with a grade.” He smiles, all soft, and she can’t help the sheepish bloom in her chest, rolling her lips back into her mouth to hide her own grin, eventually, reluctantly, admitting in a quiet, skewed to the side voice, okay, so maybe, maybe I was doing that thing, that winning thing. He doesn’t say anything, and that’s a mercy. Just nods, of course, and of course, he knew, maybe even before she did, and is that knowing not a mercy too? She thinks it is.

“I want to do this right too, Cass. And, I mean, we’re paying Vicky enough money that we should do what she tells us to.”

“Are you saying you want to do it then?”

“Want is a strong word.”

“Okay, are you saying you’re willing to do it?”

“It’s just the one?”

“Just the one.”

“Alright, fuck it, let’s do it. We better get a goddamn A-plus at the end of this.”

“Mmm, gold stars too.” Another sigh, another settling. How nice, another sigh, another settling. It’s a strange equation, but she thinks it still adds up. Neither of them want to do this, not really, but they’re willing to, and they’re willing to because of each other. Willing to try and get it right for each other. Just, well, ignore the finer details of what getting it right entails.

“You hear from Sarah lately?”

“On Monday, yeah. Called to wish me a happy birthday.”

“Well, only off by four days, not too bad.”

“Oh no, she called on Monday because she was, and I quote, too busy the rest of the week to call.”

“Wow.”

“Right?”

“Is it bad that sometimes I kinda hate it?”

“Hate what?”

“That she’s like, a fully-formed person now. I miss the days when she was a little blob who liked holding onto me by one of my belt loops.” He has to smile, nod, because he knows exactly what she means. And the truth of it is that Sarah was so good, maybe the best, if he’s allowed to give his completely biased opinion. And the other truth, Cass is, was, one of those people simply meant to be a parent, a mother. He remembers when they first started dating, and all the exhausting maneuvering he did, getting his parents or Tommy to watch Sarah, a string of canceled dinner plans when his kid couldn’t seem to stop catching things at daycare. He was sure that Cass would lose interest every time another piece of his reality was revealed to her. After all, he was not unfamiliar with being left behind. But that never happened, she stayed every time.

It was Cass who first suggested it. Didn't want to impose, but what if, maybe we could, would it be okay if, why don’t we. They went to the zoo that weekend, if he remembers correctly, Sarah in tow, shy at first around the woman she barely knew, though she bloomed over the course of the day. Yes, he thinks, it was the zoo, because he remembers how by the end of the day, Cass had her on her hip, as easy as anything, so she could get a better view of the rhinos. He knows now that, even in those earliest days, she loved his kid just as much as she loved him. He knows now what a gift that was, and continues to be.

“She’s gonna be alright, Cass. We did good with her.” She sighs, yeah, we did. She had been worried about telling her about the whole lieutenant-LMFT thing, the whole quasi-separation thing, but that was a direct command from Vicky, letting the family know what was going on. Sarah had taken it surprisingly well when she called, could be good, mom, like a reset. Of course, they kept the worst of it away from her, and of course, she still knew something had changed, something not right between them. No one was left unscathed after that April.

From the start, loving him included loving Sarah. It was never difficult for her to do both. Sweet girl, bright like the sun girl, rounded cheeks and bouncing curls, and Cassandra found that her love for her had a particular effect on her heart. Whenever small hand reached for one of hers, whenever small face tucked into her neck, whether tear-damp or milk-tired, and eventually, whenever she was given the name mom, like a stop and restart of her heart, like something turning back on inside her and finally working right. An everything kind of love, to not only be chosen by him, but to be chosen by her too.

“Well, anyways, Vicky didn’t make any stipulations about birthdays, so I have something for you.” Just a small thing, she says, leaning over the console and into the back seat, and he knows better than to say no, shouldn’t have, because there’s already a perfect package being placed in his hands, navy blue wrapping paper and a white bow, and her hand cups underneath his for just a moment, there and gone.

The truth is she had already picked out this gift two months ago, what feels like a lifetime before this separation. Now, watching him open it, she’s a little worried it had been presumptuous of her, if not completely narcissistic. But if he thinks that, he makes no show of it, lets out a quiet laugh as he takes the watch out of the box and holds it up in the fading light to look at it.

“It’s a little sappy, maybe. But, well, we have something that kinda matches now.” Something is unfurling in his chest, heat loosening something he didn’t even realize he had been tightening up around. It’s a beautiful watch, rich leather strap and polished silver. And the face of it catches and shimmers a little in the light. He knows right away that it’s mother of pearl.

Here, she says, let me, and he does, feeling a little indulgent watching her fasten the watch around his wrist, and definitely breaking one of fucking Vicky’s fucking rules when he ducks his head down and steals a kiss, another one, letting the third deepen just a little, both of them humming because missed this, missed this, didn’t realize how much, but missed this.

“Thank you, pearly.” It feels good to be so close to him, noses brushing and smiles curling around each other. Feels like a relief.

“Happy birthday, one day ahead. We could, you know, do something tomorrow? Get dinner maybe?” Before he can answer, say yes, she’s already caught herself, sheepish smile and pulling a little further away and oh, right. She says sorry, wasn’t thinking, and they do an awkward dance around the whole thing, right, yeah, probably shouldn’t, right, yeah. He is not a hateful man, and it would be too strong to say he’d wish Vicky harm. But if something were to happen, in theory, that’d make Vicky go the fuck away, in theory, he wouldn’t be too torn up about it.

“See you next Thursday then?”

“Well, next next Thursday, because we have to do the– yeah.”

“Right, yeah.” Right, yeah, this is the part where he gets out of the car. The part where he goes up to his apartment and she drives home and they don’t eat dinner together and they don’t brush their teeth together and they don’t go to sleep together. Right, yeah. They say goodnight. He’d like to say love, but he doesn’t. She’d like to say love, but she doesn’t. And they part ways.

She hates being in this house alone. Leaves all the lights on all hours of the day and checks all the locks three times before going upstairs to bed. Passes by the closed door that remains closed with her breath held. She knows it makes no sense, but she’s been sleeping in the guestroom, makes the whole thing a little easier. Always had a tendency toward insomnia, tossing and turning brain and body.

When they were just starting to get more serious, and she was just starting to stay over at his more often, she got worried that eventually it'd drive him mad enough for the whole thing to not be worth it, neither of them getting much sleep as they learned how to share a bed together. And she doesn't remember how it started exactly, maybe out of a moment of pure exasperation, him draping just enough of his weight over her to press slower breath into her lungs and still her body. It became a routine, she'd ask could you? And he'd already know what she was asking for without her having to say any more than that. What she also doesn't remember, when that stopped working, when she stopped asking, and he stopped answering. She supposes it all happened slowly, just like the rest of it.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller series #joel miller story #joel miller fic #joel miller au

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destieltropecollection · 1 month

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Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 19: Two-Person Love Triangle

Mysterious You | @verobatto Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,003 Main Tags/Warnings: Teacher!Dean, teacher!Castiel, modern setting, coming out Summary: Based in the movie 'Love Simon', professor Dean Winchester wants to find out who the mysterious and charming man Angel is. Will he be able to know him in person?

Books, Pies, and Roommates | @seidenapfel Rating: Explicit Word Count: 27,731 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Two Person Love Triangle, Idiots in Love, Professor Castiel (Supernatural), Professor Dean Winchester, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Bakery Shop Owner Gabriel (Supernatural), Friends to Lovers, blink and you miss a minor mention of Rowena MacLoad/Sam Winchester, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining Summary: Everything seemed easy when Castiel landed a job in Lawrence as a literature professor at KU. He even found a place to stay with his cousin in Topeka. But the daily commute quickly gets on his nerves and he begins looking for a room in town. When he finally lucks out on a house, it comes with a catch. His mysterious landlord/housemate works and lives in Topeka during the week, and will only be at home for the weekend while Castiel is back at his cousin’s to honor a promise he made. When Dean walks into his favorite pie shop, the new sales assistant takes his breath away. Steve is gorgeous, and part of the owner’s family. Dean doesn’t even mind that he picks up Gabriel’s stupid moniker for him. After all, Deano has one syllable more, and Dean will do anything to hear Steve’s voice just a little bit longer. Though, as breathtaking Steve might be, he isn't Angel. If only Dean's book-loving best friend weren't a mystery in himself — a guy who Dean has only met online, but who has slowly taken his heart away. And it seems that Dean isn't alone in his feelings. When the lines blur and fantasies merge three guys into one, disappointment and heartbreak seem to be inevitable.

Dear Western Red Cedar #2409 | @mittensmorgul Rating: Mature Word Count: 63,433 Main Tags/Warnings: Two Person Love Triangle, Park Ranger Dean Winchester, Librarian Castiel (Supernatural), Writer Dean Winchester, idiots to lovers Summary: For a decade, Dean had been living his dream life in Montana as a national park ranger. When Sam and Eileen followed him there a few years later, he had no idea how to tell them about his side gig as the author of a wildly popular series of novels loosely based on his own experiences. Well, minus the monster hunting. He never expected them to become bestsellers—or potentially a tv series, if his agent could only convince him to out his real identity. While Dean's also writing his latest bestseller on a deadline, a misunderstanding and his own social ineptitude leave him completely cut off, aside from his new pen pal who Dean only knows as Bluebird. Cas had spent the last two years desperate to hold Dean’s attention. Right when he felt they might be getting somewhere, Dean was called away on an emergency. Of course he had to go and lament about his troubles to a random tree, thanks to a distracting plaque inviting the public to participate in a new town project. To his surprise, he seems to hit it off— completely anonymously of course— with Western Red Cedar #2409. Through a ridiculous series of coincidences, it could be the best thing that ever happened to either of them.

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2024 #destiel #fanfic #supernatural #two person love triangle

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doctorprofessorsong · 8 months

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Destiel Fic Recs

Let's all pretend that I didn't just do one of these because I have clearly been consuming fic at an alarming rate.

A Beginner's Guide to Communing with the Dead by suspiciousflashlight @huntingthehaggis (Mature, 77k,)

Listen. I am actually mad at all y'all cause this fic has existed since 2013 and nobody told me to read it until now.

Detective Dean Winchester is haunted (literally) by the murder of a little girl. Unable to move on, he makes the decision to summon an ancient creature, Castiel, using forbidden magic. But the murder is only the beginning and he and Cas find themselves in a race against time to fight an ancient evil.

This fic has everything. Immaculate worldbuilding. Trueform Cas. Impeccable humor. Seriously, I devoured it. I'm shocked it took me this long to find it (probably because it's older), but I'm so happy I did.

The Beginning by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) @valleydean (Explicit, 129k)

A horrorfest Endverse fic, Mallory tackles what happened between the Croatoan infection and Dean and Cas' arrival in Camp Chitaqua. It's canon compliant and it really digs into Dean losing hope and becoming the darker version of himself and Cas falling into addiction and losing his angelic powers.

It's angsty and brutal and gross in the way zombie stories are. It's also got shining moments of love in the face of hopeless odds. Plus there's a character named River so you know it's good.

I also think watching the degradation of these two characters, and the way their love can't be denied even then is just really a good read.

Above & Below by murron (Explicit, 45k)

Speaking of older fics to lose your fucking mind over, this fic is absolutely immaculately done. Steeped in canon and set in S6, Dean, Cas and Soulless Sam embark on a journey through the circles of hell. Their mission is to recover Sam’s soul and their brother Adam from the cage.

It's really beautifully constructed with the vision of Hell pulled from various pieces of lore. This is a horror story for sure, but it's not a hopeless one. It's more like an epic mythological journey. And at its heart is the love story of Dean and Cas, and a lot of healing for Dean and Sam.

It's high concept. It's poetic. It's a top tier story to meltdown over.

Sentinel by Followsthebees (Explicit, 15k) @follows-the-bees

A delightful entry from the monsterfluffer bang, Dean finds himself increasingly enamored with a gargoyle on the roof of his work. What he doesn't know is the gargoyle feels the same way.

This has some absolutely delicious smut. 10/10 magical creature porn. But also Dean is so cute and lonely and full of love and Cas us such a delightful little creature. A fantastic time was had by all (me). Canon is integrated in a really fun way in a few places and the humor is fantastic.

Just a complete romp.

A pun regarding the word "bull" by zation @zationao3 (Explicit, series 41k)

Smutty and fluffy and oh so horny, this fic is a fun AU with light angst, a lot of sexual tension, but ultimately it's just a fun ride with a happy ending.

Castiel doesn't have time for attachments, but his money does afford him all the comforts of wealth and a string of casual lovers. When he spots Dean on the back of a mechanical bull, he decides he's found his next conquest - and a very willing one at that.

But after that night, both men can think of nothing but a repeat performance. Unfortunately, they failed to exchange numbers. Even more unfortunately, Dean just happens to be the new contactor engaged by Cas' company and therefore off limits.

There is some delicious smut in this one. The angst is counteracted with a sweet, soft pining and a profound bond type immediate connection that is a delight to read.

You Better Not Stay by FriendofCarlotta @friendofcarlotta (Explicit, 17k)

A fantastic horrorfest thriller, this one delivers jump scares and teen scream delight.

Dean and Cas have been best friends just short of forever and lovers for a year. But now that high school is behind them, Cas wants to leave to find freedom from his fucked up family. Dean can’t bring himself to join him. There’s Sam and the family business.

On the cusp of separation, Dean decides to take Cas on a little date to the abandoned skating rink they used to love when they were kids. Only they aren't alone, and if they're not careful, their last night together could be their last night on earth.

This one is great for the jumps and screams. But it's the soft way they love each other and the vulnerability that make this one memorable. Dean is heartbreakingly earnest trying to impress the man he loves. And Cas is sarcastic and sweet in a perfect balance.

And you're the sky by Desirae (Explicit, 28k)

Quite by accident I have two fics on here following the missed connection/one night stand reappears in your life trope, but they are very different. This one has a lot more roommates to lovers domesticity and some delightful Wings (the show) vibes.

Dean’s best friend, Gabriel, has been grounded due to medical issues. In order to save his small airline, he calls upon his estranged brother, Castiel for assistance. Being a good friend, Dean happily offers up a room in his house to Cas. Only when he shows up, he happens to be the one who got away - a hookup who was going by the name Jimmy.

This fic is soft and sweet. There's a lot of caretaker Dean and domestic vibes. It has the soft vibes of a fic where the two main characters are circling one another and you almost feel like it's inevitable that they will eventually find their way to each other. There is some family trauma, but the angst is largely countered by a lot of intentional healing. Throw in a fantastic cast of characters and this one is definitely worth the read.

Check out my other recs at @riversrecs

#destiel #deancas #fic recs #destiel fic rec #destiel fic recs

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impala-dreamer · 7 months

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Try It On

A Supernaturally Adorable Story

~Y/N and Dean like to spend their days off fooling around in the Bunker, and one particularly foolish day, they stumble into a room, and some items, she's never seen before...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

3,850 Words

Warnings: It's... Fluffy, Banter-y, Cute, Sexy, Kissy, Fun

A/N: This is for my free space for @jacklesversebingo ! And... special thanks to @deanwinchesterswitch for helping make the awesome art and showing me how to be better at that in general :)

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

The thing you have to understand about the Men of Letters Bunker in Lebanon is that- it’s huge. Well, huge isn’t really the right word. It would be more accurate to describe it as massive- and deceptively so. Not only does it reach down two stories into the earth, but it’s also full of twists and turns and magic. Hallways seem to stretch on forever, lined with horizontal black tiles that trick the eye into believing there’s a dead-end where instead there’s a turn. There are forks in the road that elicit directional anxiety, staircases that lead nowhere, and hidden doorways that if taken, can lead to a random spot in the Bunker that seemed accessible only from the outside.

Once, Y/N had slipped through a small door in the Mechanical Room that she thought was a closet, only to end up standing behind the giant telescope in the Library.

Door numbers played games with her, multiplying and changing. Rooms appeared and disappeared, moved seemingly by magic, or perhaps only in her mind. It was impossible to navigate too far from the main areas without a map, or at the very least, her cell in hand should she accidentally get stuck somewhere new.

As far as Sam knew, there was only one map of the Bunker - the original blueprints to be exact - and the more he studied it, the more he realized that most of the underground lair was not included in the plans.

Life in the Bunker was nice. The cavernous rooms seemed to echo the quiet in a comforting way and although it was usually a little chilly, it was nice to be able to snuggle up in a big sweater or cuddle down in a blanket while reading in the Library. It was easy to find yourself with alone time, and even easier to sneak around in the shadows, finding fun ways to keep occupied while the monsters plotted beyond the big doors.

Those fun ways generally involved some kind of chase between Y/N and Dean which usually, if not always, ended with a trail of flannel leading into either’s bedroom. ‘Sex Tag’, Dean had dubbed it, though Y/N liked to pretend they were a tad less obvious and called it simply, ‘Hide and Seek’.

Last Thursday, one such game was in play. Y/N was the aggressor this time, quickly stalking Dean through the tunnels, her socked feet silent yet slippery on the highly polished tile floor. She raced around corners with a hand on the wall for stability and still almost always wiped out. Around such a turn, she caught a break as Dean, obviously somewhere nearby, let out a breathy laugh.

She spun to her left and spotted him halfway down the right hallway, leaning casually against the tiles. His bare ankles were crossed and off to the side, his arms were folded across his chest, navy Henley stretching sinfully over his biceps. His chin was low and he looked up with a devilish smirk, letting her know that despite having given away his location, he had no intention of letting her catch him yet.

“Caught you,” she announced, taking a short step towards him. She set her hands on her hips and stared him down.

Dean licked his lips and bit back a smile, forcing the tiny dimples above his mouth to pop. “Uh, you ain’t caught me yet…”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You really gonna make me come all the way over there?”

In one slick motion, Dean pushed himself away from the wall and dragged a hand back through his short hair. He peered over at her, green eyes dark with temptation. “Only if you wanna win.”

Y/N clicked her tongue, daring him to move. “I found you- that’s usually enough to garner a win.”

He turned to face her full on, bowed legs spread shoulder-width apart. He let his arms hang down as if he were at ease, but she knew he was ready to bolt.

“Usually,” he agreed.

“But not today?”

He sucked his teeth and shook his head slowly. “Not today.”

Y/N took a step toward him. “No?”

Long fingers tensed against worn denim. “No. Today it’s a tag or nothing.”

She took another step and Dean’s jaw twitched.

“So, if I grab your ass,” she asked, “I win?”

Plump lips curled on one side. “If you can catch me, sure.”

She took a deep breath.

He mirrored.

She held in the air and took a step.

He lingered, daring, teasing.

On her exhale, Y/N pushed off on her right foot and broke into a run, her arms pumping, thighs straining to pick up speed while simultaneously fighting to stay upright on the slippery ground.

Dean waited exactly seven seconds before retreating. He spun on the spot; the balls of his bare feet squeaking gently on the tiles as he took off. The first few yards he dashed at full speed, just to put some space between himself and the huntress, but after a peek over his shoulder, he slowed, shifting into first gear. It wasn’t a Sex Tag if she didn’t eventually catch him, after all.

Y/N’s heart was pounding, skin heating up, muscles thrumming with adrenaline. Once close enough to smell the lingering aftershave on his neck, she reached out and grabbed blindly for him, catching the collar of his shirt and tugging hard.

Dean gasped at the sudden pull and his arms shot out at his sides, balancing even as Y/N jerked him backwards. She slipped as they both came to a screeching halt, and Dean caught her just before she hit the floor, surely saving her from a bruise or two.

Out of breath and victorious, Y/N straightened up and pushed at his chest, slamming him back into the wall. “Gotcha!”

He lifted his chin above her forearm and made a play of being pinned even though they both knew he could slip away without much effort.

“Still haven’t won yet,” he informed her.

Y/N huffed and reached an arm around him, grabbing his left ass cheek hard.

Dean held in a yelp.

“How ‘bout now?”

He grinned, drew his bottom lip in between his front teeth. “I fold.”

“Thought you might.”

To seal the deal, Y/N pushed up on her toes and kissed him hard. The arm barring his chest dropped and Dean wrapped his arms around her, tugging her closer and spinning so she was against the wall.

His tongue slid across her lips and her hands slipped down his chest. He bucked his hips against her and she moaned through the kiss. Her fingers bunched up around his stomach, grabbing at the navy fabric, wanting him closer.

He shivered and trailed his lips across her cheek, dropped a kiss by her ear, let out a heavy breath that prickled her skin.

“Want you,” he growled, rocking into her once more. “Now.”

Delicate fingers tucked up beneath his shirt and scraped down his belly. Y/N drew a finger across his hip bone and looked up at him, teeth snagged, eyes glazed beneath batting lashes.

“Right here.”

It wasn’t a question.

Dean pushed himself up, set his hand on the wall beside her, stared down with a shy grin. “Yeah?”

She hooked her fingers in his belt loops and tugged. “Yeah. Right here.”

Green eyes went wide and freckled cheeks blushed. Hesitantly, he dropped his right hand to her breast and felt for her nipple through the layers of fabric.

Y/N arched her back against the wall, pushing her chest out and moaning loudly.

The echo scared him and Dean looked cautiously over his shoulders.

“What? Afraid your brother’s lurking?” she teased.

He huffed out a sarcastic laugh but looked back again, certain they’d be caught. “Yeah… OK, maybe a little.”

Y/N held his gaze and snapped her fingers over his jeans, popping the brass button open. He hissed as her hand snuck down inside; the zipper easing open to give her more room.

“Someday,” she whispered, drawing his attention closer as she traced his quickly stiffening cock with her thumb. “I’ll get you to indulge my public sex fantasy…”

His eyes went wide when she cupped his dick in her warm hand. “Fuck!”

Quickly but reluctantly, he pulled her hand away and reached for the doorknob on her left. The lock was in place and he issued an annoyed huff.

Y/N watched as he fumbled with the door across the way - also locked - and then cleared her throat.

“We can just go back to my place,” she offered. “Though, I’m not quite sure how to get back there…”

Dean was already on the next door. “No, no. We’re gonna… just… find a spot to hide in… and- yes!” The fourth door he tried opened and he waved Y/N over.

She followed through the portal and nearly stumbled into him as the darkness devoured them both.

Just a bit scared, Y/N spun around as Dean shut the door. “A little light would be nice!”

“Workin’ on it!”

She took a step backward and hit an unexpectedly soft barrier. She turned, feeling with cautious hands, a wall of hanging fabrics. Confused, she reached higher and felt a metal rod and plastic hangers.

“Is this…”

Dean found his way to the switch and two hanging lights flipped on.

“... a closet-” Y/N’s excitement grew when her eyes adjusted. “What… on earth…”

Dean hummed curiously. “Oh shit. I didn’t realize we were over here.”

Y/N took a look around. “Where exactly is here?”

“South of the kitchen,” he replied. “Or east. I can’t remember.”

She was awed.

It was a bedroom, or at least, used to be. The layout was familiar. The standard full bed with its ugly green blanket was there, as was the writing desk and the random sink against the front wall. Everything was the same except for the massive collection of costumes. The perimeter was lined with bulging clothing racks and boxes filled with shoes. Hats of all varieties hung on nails hammered into the plaster walls and ties in just about every shade of blue and red were neatly displayed on a hanging rack by the door.

With an amused smile growing on her lips, Y/N ran her hands over the shirts on the left side of the room and plucked a brightly colored Hawiian shirt from the rack. She turned, holding it up for Dean to see.

“This yours?” She held in a laugh.

He clicked his tongue and grabbed at the hanger, pulling it away. “Hey. I like this shirt.”

“It’s… loud.”

He glared. “It’s a disguise, OK?” Carefully, he put the flowered button-down back in its place. “They all are.”

“Not a very subtle one,” she joked, shaking her head as she flipped through the rack. “Oh my…”

Next, she pulled free a leather jacket and caressed it gently. “Now this- I like this.”

Dean rolled his eyes as she shrugged on the quilted leather. “Of course you do. Chicks dig guys in leather.”

Y/N fit her arms into the long sleeves and popped the collar up around her neck. “Whatcha think?” She posed for him and Dean stood back, checking her out.

“Very hot. You got a real… Rizzo vibe goin’ on.”

She tongued her cheek and popped a hip his way. “Yeah? You gonna mark me up, Kenickie?”

Dean whistled and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “You better believe it…”

Y/N chewed her lip and took a step, ready to attack him. Before she could get the momentum, a dirty mustard-colored sleeve grabbed her attention and she shifted course.

“Is that?” She tugged the costume from the rack and held it up to look it over. “When were you a fireman?”

Dean sighed. “I don’t know- years ago.”

“And you kept the outfit?”

He shrugged. “Yeah… I guess.”

She narrowed her eyes curiously and leaned in, taking a sniff of the coat. It was musty but unburned. “Why?”

Something stirred inside and Dean felt suddenly like he had to defend himself from her scrutiny, but at the same time, he couldn’t figure out why. His answer came out in a stumble of letters that tried to climb over and inside each other.

“It’s not- don’t- you just- who- I don’t know!” In a snit, he grabbed the suit and shoved it back in its place. “Do you have to touch everything?”

Y/N held her amusement inside. “Yes. Yes I do.”

Twirling around him, she jumped up and tipped a tan Stetson from its hook. It fell onto his head easily and Y/N nodded in approval.

“Awesome.”

Dean inhaled deeply, pushing down his annoyance even as his cheeks burned. “Yeah, yeah… go on. Make fun of me.”

“Oh, I will never make fun of Cowboy Dean.”

He looked up at her from under the brim and she winked, soothing his hurt.

Feeling guilty, Y/N sashayed up to him and lifted his chin with two fingers. “I think it’s cool that you kept all this.”

His brows creased. “Yeah?”

She smiled. “Absolutely. Even cooler that you got to wear it all. I’ve only ever gone undercover as a Fed. This is…” She paused and looked around the room. Lab coats and police uniforms and bright orange construction vest looked back at her. “This is cool.”

Dean softened and fit his arm around her waist, hand flat on the small of her back. “You were a doctor once, if I remember…”

“A lab tech,” she corrected, lightly jabbing a finger into his chest.

He nodded. “Ah, right. I remember you in that white coat… and that tiny skirt that barely covered your-”

“Hey!”

She slapped him and he lunged for her, stealing her breath with a deep kiss. Wrapping her fingers around the open collar of his shirt, Y/N tugged him closer, licked into his mouth, hummed at the sugary taste of him. A late breakfast of black coffee and a powdered donut lingered on his tongue.

His eyes were closed when she pulled back, his pouty lips puckered and searching for more. She laughed.

“Know what’d be super hot?” she whispered, walking her fingers up to loop around the nape of his neck.

Dean set his hands on her hips, thumbs cutting circles in the soft flesh beneath her shirt. “What’s that?”

She spun away again and waltzed to the other side of the room, plucking a disguise from the rack at random. Without looking, she tossed it at Dean who caught it before the hanger poked his eye out.

“Wear it for me,” she said, desire dripping from her lips.

“You’re crazy,” he laughed.

Y/N pouted and fluttered her eyes at him. “Come on, Dean… try it on.”

Intrigued, he examined the outfit she’d chosen. It was the pale blue shirt and dark slacks of a navy uniform, complete with white Dixie Cup hat.

“You’re serious.”

She nodded. “I am.”

He fiddled with the buttons. “Yeah… I’m not doin’ that.”

“Come on, baby… put on a show for me…”

He felt a twinge in his gut and blood rushed to his cock. He sighed dramatically. “Fine. Have a seat…”

Stetson returned safely to its hook, Dean rearranged the rack by the door so he could hide behind it as he changed. The move wasn’t out of modesty, as there wasn’t much privacy left between them, but purely for the game.

Y/N appreciated the little touch and set herself up on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for the show to begin. From the corner of her eye, she spied a cardboard box on the floor with a glinting bit of chrome inside.

The chrome trimmed out the edges of an old yet professional looking camera and Y/N held in a delighted laugh. Stealing it, she set herself up in the middle of the bed, legs crossed, fingers learning the buttons. By the time Dean was ready, so was she.

Dean cleared his throat and lifted his voice up over the dividing rack. “Are you ready for the ride of your life?”

Y/N bit her lip and closed one eye, looking through the lens finder with the other. “Ready, Commander!”

With much dramatic flare, Dean whipped around the rack and appeared in all his naval glory. Gone was his soft Henley and loose, old jeans, replaced by the tight slacks and tucked-in button down shirt. The cap sat tilted on his skull and his eyes bright; playful yet shy.

“Actually, Miss,” he corrected, “that’s Ensign Winchester.”

“You demoted yourself,” she laughed. “Fun.”

Before he could snap back with something clever, a snap disturbed him.

So engrossed in his own costume, Dean hadn’t noticed the long, black camera lens pointed at him.

She snapped a quick shot, then another.

“Perfect…” Two more in quick succession. “Give us a twirl, will ya?”

Shocked and embarrassed, Dean struggled to cover himself by grabbing a gray phone operator’s jumpsuit from the rack.

Y/N whistled. “Oh, yes! That one next!”

Dean scoffed. “In your dreams.” He heard another click of the camera and ripped the cap from his head. “Quit it, will ya?”

“Nope. This is great stuff. Very sexy.”

He groaned. “I hate you so much right now.”

Pouting, she dropped the camera onto the bed and leaned back on her arms, hands barely sinking into the ancient mattress. “Oh, come on…”

Looking up, he found her playfully sad and couldn’t resist the puckered frown of her pretty lips or the fake tears brewing in her beautiful eyes.

He sighed heavily and let the jumpsuit fall to the floor in a heap of cheap polyester. “Fine.”

Arms out, he took a step into the middle of the room and did a quick spin, showing off how tightly the pants hugged his cute little ass.

Y/N grinned and held in a hungry moan. “That’s it, Ensign. Back that thang up.”

Rolling his eyes, he gave her a little shake and then walked away, returning to his sanctuary behind the rack.

“What’s next?” she asked, retrieving the camera and fiddling with the settings.

“Nothing.”

“You’re no fun…”

He was glad the clothing was hiding his smile. Of course he was going to model for her. He’d do just about anything she asked, apparently including, playing dress up on a random Thursday afternoon.

He cleared the smile from his throat and turned up the gruff. “Hold your horses!”

Y/N hid a laugh. “Oh, is there a full cowboy outfit I should know about?”

Dean clicked his tongue. “There is. But dream on.”

“I sure will…”

Fabric rustled and the rack shook a little.

Y/N toyed with the zoom. “Where’s this camera from, anyway? There’s still film in it.”

“Sam sometimes pulls that out when we do the journalist cover. I think he just likes playing with big, long things.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, probably. Though, I don’t think he needs to compensate for anything.”

Startled, Dean’s head popped up over the rack and he glared at her.

“Nevermind…” She batted her lashes and away his concern.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Show me something sexy,” she urged, wiggling on the bed to get comfortable.

“Sexy, huh?” He adjusted his sleeves and took a breath. “How’s this for sexy?”

Around the corner came Mr. Winchester in a dark brown uniform with matching pants and shirt, black belt and a shiny badge over his heart.

She was confused. “UPS driver?”

He scoffed and smoothed out the shirt. “Park Ranger!” Turning, he showed off the patch on his right shoulder. “Love this one. I look good in brown.”

Y/N snapped a few pictures but ultimately vetoed the outfit. “No one looks good in head-to-toe brown.”

Dean scowled and slunk off to change yet again.

Next, a white bit of plastic was fit around his throat and his hair was quickly parted on the side, raked through by thick fingers. The black clerics of a priest were intriguing, but Y/N felt funny kissing a holy man, so she quickly pushed Father Dean away.

A set of green surgeon scrubs were documented but waved away, as were two ill-fitting lab coats of varying lengths, although Y/N thought to sneak a stethoscope away for later.

When Dean revealed what he thought would seal the deal, he was met with nothing but such roaring laughter as to give Y/N a coughing fit.

“What? My legs are sexy!”

Y/N tried to calm herself, but the sight of Dean in tiny red gym shorts and sweat bands around his forehead and wrists was simply too much for her to take.

“When- what- where-” She nearly choked and fell back against the mattress, shielding her gaze from the costume.

With a devastated sigh, Dean turned and ripped the white polo from his back. “Ya know, I was a damned good gym teacher that week!”

“Flag on the play, babe,” she wheezed.

“Fine!” Defeated, he threw his hands up and shrugged. “I don’t know what you want.”

Y/N took a calming breath and scooted to the foot of the bed. “I don’t know…”

“Then I can’t give it to you!”

“Hey! Don’t yell at me. We’re just fooling around.”

He hissed. “I wanna be fooling around, that’s the point.”

“Well, then show me something I can’t resist,” she encouraged. “Find me that one outfit that turns my gears so tight they’ll snap.”

“That’s… not how gears work…”

Eyes rolled hard; teeth were sucked. “Just… you know what I mean.”

“Fine.”

Hangers were shifted about, cheap fabrics were rumpled and tossed aside.

After much foot tapping and debating, Dean made a selection at random and prepared to wave the white flag.

One foot out from behind the rack, however, he knew he had chosen wisely.

Y/N’s jaw dropped and the lens slowly lowered. Her eyes went wide and she felt her skin flush.

“Oh. Oh my…”

Curious, Dean stepped closer and opened his arms. “Really?”

Mouth watering and heart beating hard, Y/N nodded. “Yeah. I have no idea why, but that’s it.”

His brows creased. He dipped his chin and stared at her. “Really.”

Y/N licked her lips and nodded. The heat drained from her cheeks and headed downwards, traveling like his gaze over her breasts and settling between her thighs. “Really.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Don’t care,” she said quickly, standing up and reaching for him. “Get over here, professor.”

Her fingertips grazed over the thick, beige wool of his cable knit sweater, hooked around the big, wooden buttons and tugged him close.

Dean’s eyes lit up with lustful wonder.

“Actually, I was a child psychologist in this thing-”

Another tug on the bulky cardigan had him stumbling down onto the bed with her. “I don’t care. Just fuck me…”

Dean licked his lips and ghosted his fingers over the soft leather hiding her body from him. “Yes, Ma’am.”

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