#thankfully sammy is so good at calming him down when he starts to get like that. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wormstacheangel · 4 years ago

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Almost: Ch 6

Summary: Dean is a little too distracted by everything Cas. Even when he tells himself he has to move on and just be happy for his old best friend. But it's hard when Cas is now just a text message away again.

Read on AO3 link (maybe leave a nice little comment?)

Word Count: 2959 More Under The Cut

“Rich people really don’t eat, huh?” Charlie said as Dean gets into the drive-through line for some burgers and shakes. She leaned forward on the seat, her head closer to Dean’s as she tried to look at the menu. “Well, at least I know what their houses look like.”

“Why did we have to leave in such a hurry anyway?” Sam was in the passenger seat also staring at the menu before he turned to Charlie. “Are you getting a chocolate one or vanilla? I’ll get the opposite of you.”

“I’ll get chocolate. You get vanilla and Dean can get the strawberry one.” Charlie decides, patting Dean’s head. “Yeah, why did we leave? Didn’t dreamy little Cas just get there?”

Dean rolls his eyes but doesn’t look back at them as they made kissing noises at him. “I won’t buy you guys shit if you keep this up.”

That shut them up pretty quickly. Good. Dean was still trying to process what was even said. Cas’s number felt like it was burning in his pocket. He felt stupid for wanting to call him already just to hear his name being said by Cas’s dumb raspy voice. Years of not hearing it really was catching up to him.

Sam then hit Dean’s arm to grab his attention. “Dude, we’re next.”

“Oh.” He went up to the speaker and ordered whatever Charlie kept telling him to say. He wasn’t sure if he got something for himself or even how much it was, just handing his card over when he got to the window.

Charlie and Sam must have noticed his mind was somewhere else. Lost in the tingle that still lingered on his cheek. Lost in that big bear hug that Cas gave him. The way Cas said his name, like a damn prayer, when he finally saw Dean made him feel weak in the knees and he hated it. Hated that Cas already had such a stronghold of him.

Of course, they didn’t know that was what he was thinking about. And he’s sure as fuck not going to tell them any of that. It’s his guilty pleasure that he gets to relive in his head and their nosy asses can have none of it.

As soon as they had their food Dean parked them in the emptier side of the parking lot before turning the car off. “Okay,” He turned towards them and took the food Sam handed him. “Dude, this is strawberry. I don’t want that shit.”

“Too bad you already agreed.” Sam held his shake away from Dean.

“I paid so I should get first dibs.” Dean reached for it again but Sam held it back, his bitchface front and center. “Sam. Give it.”

“No. This one’s mine.” Sam opened the lid of his shake and licked the top of the ice cream. “See it’s mine now.”

Dean laughed coldly. “Like that will stop me.” Dean was about to jump his brother but Charlie, who probably was tired as shit of seeing their bickering and saw the signs that this was about to turn into an actual wrestling fight, reached forward and took the strawberry shake from Dean’s hand. Replacing it with her chocolate one.

“There. Happy?”

“No.” Not really.” The brothers both mumble as Charlie lifts her hand as a threat and even though she would never actually hit them they saw that she was annoyed. So they both quickly said, “Sorry.”

“Good.” She sat back in the seat and started unwrapping her burger. “Now can we get back to the topic on hand?”

“Which is?” Dean had a mouthful of burger as he talked.

“Why did we leave so early?” She stuffed a few fries in her mouth as she looked at him with raised eyebrows. Looking like a curious little chipmunk as she chewed.

“Yeah,” Sam took a bite of the small yellow pepper before he bit into his burger. “I thought Cas wanted us there or whatever.”

“He did.” Dean looked down at his burger as he talked.

“Oh, so you did talk to him!” Charlie moved forward in the seat again. She frowned at him/ “How was he? Nobody looked really sad for it being a funeral and all.”

Dean shrugged. “He seemed fine. Didn’t talk for long cause he told me to leave.”

“What?!” Both Sam and Charlie said at the same time.

“Why’d he tell you that?” Sam asked, looking at Dean with round puppy eyes, probably trying to read Dean again.

While Charlie quickly picked up with angry steam. “And after telling you to go? What the fuck kind of-!”

“Charles. Breath.” Dean put his burger down and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. “I guess I should tell you guys since I’m gonna have to tell Bobby soon.”

They looked at him. Waiting for answers so Dean quickly told them about the will reading he was invited to go to. Leaving them just as confused as Dean felt.

“But...but why you?”

“Shit if I know, Sammy.” Dean finished his burger off and worked on his fries, dipping them into the shake. “Cas just said Bobby and me gotta be there for it to be read or whatever.”

“What if you get money?!” Charlie hit Dean’s shoulder in excitement.

“Doubt it. I’ll be lucky if he gives Bobby’s shop back to us.” Sam and Charlie sat back in their seats, nodding in agreement. “I feel kind of bad that a lot of people weren’t mourning and shit but...that dude was weird.”

“Creepy.” Charlie added.

“Gave me the chills.” Sam shivered.

“Rest in peace, Chuck!” Dean added at the end, holding his spoon up in solitary. “May you give Bobby the garage and hopefully your kids won’t kill me. Salud!”

Charlie and Sam smiled, even Sam who rolled his eyes but played along, as they held their spoons up. “Salud!”

When Dean finally arrived home, dropping off Charlie and Sam first, he dragged his feet to his room. This is around the time he hated living by himself. When he comes home and the lights are all off. The air is still and cold. No warmth or sense of home even if this has been his home for the last three years.

Dean took off his clothes as he went. Dumping it all into the chair in his room before he pulled the covers from his bed to climb inside them. He was too tired from the emotional roller coaster ride he went on the last few days. Tomorrow isn’t going to be any better so he might as well get some rest now.

“Fuck. My phone.” Dean groaned as he kicked the covers off and dragged his feet to grab his pants. Digging into its pockets to grab his phone and then stiffening up when he felt the crumpled piece of paper.

He took it out and walked back to bed. Staring at the phone in one hand and the paper in the other.

“Hmm,” Dean hummed as he studied the number. “So Cas did end up changing it.” Explained the dropped calls and unread text at least.

Dean slowly added Cas’s number to his phone. He debated on having the name down as Castiel or Cas. Then he debated if he should add an emoji, just something as dumb as a ghost for ghosting him, but he decided against it.

“Just Cas.” He whispers to himself as his thumbs hovered over the screen. His eyes narrowing at the name that haunted him for years. Cause that’s what he was, right? He was just Cas. He wasn’t even his friend anymore. At least Dean doesn’t think so. Even though he wasn’t so sure if he could be just friends with Cas, not yet, but...“Fuck it.”

He quickly opens a new text box and shoots a small little text.

‘Hey. It’s Dean.’ Dean rolled his eyes but didn’t discourage himself from adding. ‘Just wanted to make sure you had my number too.’

Dean looked at the clock on the corner of his screen and thankfully it wasn’t so late that it’ll be mistaken as a damn booty-call. Not that Dean would do that. Not to Cas at least. Maybe he’ll call somebody else for that later cause right now he feels too damn lonely and it’s just fucking suffocating him.

He started to scroll through his list of possible hookups - not that big of a list anymore now that people are getting married and shit - when a text notification got his heart racing in his throat. He sat up against his headboard and took a calming breath. His thumb hovered over the screen because he was nervous. It’s probably just a dumb reply too and he’s making this into a big fucking deal when it’s not going to anything important.

If it’s not a big deal then open it. He tells himself before sighing and opening up the text.

‘Hello, Dean. I saved it now.’

“Of course.” Dean rolled his eyes and dropped his phone on his lap.

His hands went up to cover his face, palms pressing hard into his eyes as his fingers grip at his hair in frustration. He was just mad -no fuck that he was annoyed- at the fact that he gave himself that dumb pep talk and he still held on to hope that maybe Cas would say...what the hell did he want Cas to say to him?

“Hey, Dean, you looked great today so I’m leaving my fiancé for you!” Dean mimicked Cas’s voice out loud to himself.

He groaned and picked up the phone again to just shut it off. There was no need to reply to that. The conversation was over. Clearly, the dude was busy with his damn fiancé.

But then Dean stopped short because he found the ‘...’ that kept appearing and disappearing. Damn it! He’s hoping again.

Dean kept his eyes on those dots for what felt like hours instead of the minute that it actually was. His heart beating hard against his chest as he imagined Cas trying to think of what to say. His dumb concentrated face glaring down at the phone. His too big hands holding the phone in between them and his thumbs hovering over the board. Probably overthinking his words or correcting something that just didn’t sound exactly right. Was Cas overthinking his text or was Dean just a dumbass for believing that?

Then finally the dots were replaced by words.

‘I’m sorry if Mick was bothering you earlier.’

Oh. Not what he thought Cas was gonna say at all.

Dean straightened up against the headboard. Pulling a pillow against his chest to hug as he texted back right away. Dean wasn’t the type to wait to look cool and Cas knew that.

‘He wasn’t.’ Dean sent first and then he rolled his eyes as he sent the next text. Nobody can tell Dean he’s anything but supportive. ‘He’s a nice guy.’

Even if it fucking kills him inside. He bangs his head back against the headboard a few times.

‘Wow. That must have taken so much out of you to type out.’

Dean laughed. Of course, that bastard will know. ‘Shut up, dumbass.’

‘I’ll let Mick know you think so highly of him.’

‘Okay, I wouldn’t go that far.’

‘Is he not your idol?’ Cas sent and Dean rolled his eyes but Cas quickly sent another one. ‘Are you not practicing your accent so you can be just like him?’

‘Ha. Ha. Very funny, Cas.’

‘Thank you. Glad one of you thinks so.’

‘What? Mick not a fan of your dumb dry humor?’

Cas sent three texts back to back. ‘No.’ ‘At least I don’t think he does.’ ‘He doesn’t seem to understand when I’m being sarcastic’

‘Well, it takes a while.’

‘We’ve known each other for 5 years now.’

‘Oh.’ Dean said it out loud as well. ‘That long?’

‘Yes.’

‘Almost has us beat.’

‘…’ Dean thinks he fucked up somehow but before he can completely freak out Cas texts. ‘Mick doesn’t come close to what you and I had, Dean.’

His breath catches in his throat and Dean starts to choke on-air as he reads the text again. What the hell was he supposed to respond to that?! “Lol. Good.” Dean jokes out loud as he wrote those words down but erased them just as quickly.

‘Sorry. I should go. Sorry to keep you up.’

Shit! No. No. Don’t go Cas. ‘No biggie. Talk to me whenever, Cas.’

‘Thank you. Goodnight, Dean.’

‘Night, Cas.’

Then - cause Cas couldn’t get any damn cuter - he sends a sleeping cat emoji along with a flower emoji.

Something came over him. Dean can say he was possessed or something but he sends the damn heart emoji. Then before he can see Cas’s reply - if he does reply - he turns off his phone.

“Yeah,” Dean tucks himself in his bed. Covers over his head as he closes his eyes. “I’ll deal with that in the morning.”

“I’m just saying,” Bobby has been just saying all the way to the lawyer’s office. “We better be getting something good if they’re making us waste another afternoon not working. Are they gonna pay our bills? No.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just get everything out now before we get inside.” Dean tells him as he parks the car. He turns the car off as Bobby already reached to open his door. “Hopefully Chuck liked us enough to just give us the shop back. Cause as long as we own it and not them then that's good.”

“That’s all we can ask for now.” Bobby gets out of the car and quickly closes the door behind him.

Making Dean flinch as he sighs, his head hanging for just a second before he followed Bobby out. Thankfully, because of Chuck, they got to keep the shop open as long as they have but now they’re in a solid place where they can keep it open, and if one of the Novak’s gets it...Dean was just sure they would sell the property. Their family business will be no more.

Why else would Chuck want them here if it’s not for that?

Dean quickly caught up to Bobby, who didn’t bother to change out of his working clothes and had the damn ripped trucker cap on, before he noticed that his Uncle was walking towards someone.

“You’re late.” Cas quickly reaches to take Dean’s hand to drag him inside the large office building as he updates them. “Gabriel is inside trying to keep the peace but don’t worry,” He turns his head to Dean and winks at him. That bastard. “We will be your buffer so you’ll be perfectly safe.”

“Buffer?” Bobby’s voice gets Dean to stop floating away into Cas’s eyes. “We’re gonna need a damn buffer? What has your Daddy gotten us into, Cas?”

“I’m sorry, Bobby. If only I knew.” They get into the elevator and Cas lets go of Dean’s hand to smooth his clothes down. Eyebrow raised as if telling him ‘Couldn’t pick anything nice to wear to this important event?’ but Dean also just came back from work. He was lucky that his damn button-up didn’t have any oil stains. But then Cas smiled, “You look nice.”

Before Dean could answer, or even think of any words, Cas moved on to Bobby. Surprisingly Bobby let Cas fuss over him.

“The lawyer told us that all of us, including you two, had to be present in order for the will to be read.” Cas fixed Bobby’s hat and nodded before he stood in front of them, facing the door with a heavy sigh. “Hopefully you guys are ready for some fun Novak family time.”

Dean didn’t stop himself as he quickly reached to take Cas’s hand in his. He pretended not to see Cas’s eyes widen as he faced the doors as well. “As long as it’s not some big dumb elaborate joke. We’re missing work for this you know.”

“I know.” Cas squeezes his hand, smiling before he turns towards the doors as well. “I’ll take you both out for dinner after this if you like.”

Both. Dean’s heart raced even if it does sound like a date with his Uncle tagging along.

The elevator door opened and Cas quickly started pulling Dean along again. Bobby clearly was looking at them but right now Dean didn’t care as he bumped shoulders with Cas. “That sounds great. What do you have in mind?”

“Whatever Bobby wants of course.”

“I wanna get the hell out of here.”

“I was thinking more like in the realm of Biggerson’s?”

“Yeah, sure, we can do that too.”

Cas and Dean both laughed as they bumped shoulders, fingers locking together now before they stopped in front of the right door. Cas turned to smile at Dean, it was soft and reassuring but he was asking Dean something.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“If you’re sure.” Cas quickly tells him as he squeezes his hand once before letting go.

Dean really missed that weight in his hand now.

As soon as the door opened Cas walked through it - he easily ignored the angry glares that seemed to sting Dean frozen - and Bobby had to shove him a little for him to start walking. When the door closed Dean flinched hoping this would end soon.

This was going to be a long meeting. But hey, Dean goes to where Cas was patting the extra seat next to him on the couch and falls beside him, at least Cas was here.

“Now that we have everyone. Let’s get started. And please remember that security will call the police this time.”

Oh. Fuck.

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shadowywerewolfqueen · 4 years ago

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For Suptober Day 23.

“Sam, I can’t just tell Cas how I feel! What if he doesn’t feel the same way? We are roommates and I can’t afford for Cas to leave because he doesn’t want to be around me,” Dean said, laying on his bed while talking to his brother.

“If Cas’ money is the only reason why you want him as a roommate, then maybe he should leave,” Sam replied.

“Ugh, of course that’s not the only reason why I like having Cas around! The dude might be my roommate but he’s also my best friend! I can’t risk telling Cas the truth and losing him. I don’t know what I’d do without Cas,” Dean exclaimed, annoyed that his brother would insinuate that he only liked Cas for his money.

“Woah, dude, calm down! I didn’t mean to upset you. Dean, you’ve been crushing on Cas for years and you still haven’t made a move. If you don’t, someone else will,” Sam pointed out.

Dean groaned. “You don’t think I don’t know that! Hell, Crowley, Balthazar, and Meg have all asked him out multiple times. Thankfully, he’s turned all of them down.”

“So, what happens when he finally says yes to somebody?” Sam asked.

Dean buried his face in his pillow and screamed. When he was done, he answered his brother’s question. “Get really jealous and probably give the person the stink eye anytime they are around Cas.”

Dean could practically see the bitch face he knew Sam was giving him. “Exactly, so why don’t you grow a pair and tell Cas how you feel!”

“I don’t even know what to tell him!”

“Why don’t you make a list of all the things you like about Cas. Pick out a couple and come up with a way to spend some together focused around those things. Then, maybe hint at the possibility of it being a date and see how Cas reacts,” Sam suggested.

Dean frowned. “Dude, that sounds so fucking girly!”

“Then keep pining like a lovesick teenager and don’t ask me for anymore help,” Sam said, obviously annoyed.

“Fine, don’t get your panties in a knot. I’ll try, but we both know that all this mushy crap isn’t my thing,” Dean said.

“Well, if you want Cas to be your boyfriend, then you better make it your thing. Look, I’ve gotta go, but I’ll talk to you later. Love you,” Sam said.

“Yeah, alright. Love you too and good luck on your test.”

“Thanks Dean, bye jerk.”

“Bye bitch,” Dean replied, softly. He dropped his phone on the bed and lay there, contemplating if he could just jump in a hole and let it swallow him. He finally rolled out of bed and walked over to his desk. He grabbed a pen and paper and started writing.

A few days later, Castiel walked into the apartment he shared with Dean. He headed into the kitchen and grabbed a soda from the fridge. He drank half of it before walking to his bedroom and grabbing his overflowing laundry basket. He paused by Dean’s door before deciding to see if Dean had any dirty clothes. He opened the door and walked inside. He grabbed the few clothes he saw lying on the floor and then walked to Dean’s desk to grab the shirt that was lying on top.

He picked the shirt up and something flew onto the floor. Cas went to drop the clothes into his basket before walking back into the room. He picked the piece of paper up and was surprised to see his name written on it. His curiosity was too strong to be ignored. As he read, his eyes widened with every bullet point.

My Cas List aka All My Favorite Things About My Roommate/Best Friend/Guy I’m In Love With

His hair. I love how it’s shining black, almost like a raven’s wings. Also love how no matter how hard he tries to make it lie flat, it always gives him a perpetually just got laid look.

His eyes. Holy shit, I could write an entire essay on Cas’ eyes. They are the deepest, purest, most gorgeous fucking blue I’ve ever seen. They remind me of the ocean when the sun is reflecting off the water.

His smile. I mean his real smile, where his gums show and his eyes and nose scrunch up. I love it so much because he rarely smiles that big. It’s like a freakin ray of sunshine! Although, I’ve noticed he smiles a lot like that when we hang out. Ha, suck it Crowley!

His body! Man Cas, has a killer fucking body with those broad shoulders, flat stomach, and them thighs! Oh my God, he could crush a watermelon with those things. Hell, I wish he would crush me with them. And he’s got a pretty impressive cock (what can I say, I was a peeping Tom a few times!) I wish I knew what it felt like to have it buried in my ass, man I bet he would fill me up just right!

His hands! He’s got huge ass hands and man I love to just watch him pick shit up. When he touches me with them, I get goosebumps all over. I just wished he’d touch me more often with them.

His voice. Whiskey on gravel and man the things it does to me! Man, what I would give to be in bed with Cas and have him order me around with that voice of his. Ughh, I get hard just thinking about it.

His fascination with bees. He’s so passionate and I love listening to him talk about how important they are for the environment and how they make their honey. I might not love bees, but I would listen to Cas all day because when he talks his eyes light up and he gets one of his gummy smiles.

His utter lack of understanding of pop culture references. I mean he literally gets none of my references but that just means I get to educate him. I love our movie marathon weekends because of all the time I get to spend with him!

He can’t cook worth a shit! That just means he loves my cooking all the more, especially my burgers! They make him very happy haha.

His baking skills! Dude might burn spaghetti noodles but he makes the best darn pies, cakes, and cookies I’ve ever tasted! The best thing in the world is coming home to a freshly baked apple pie made by Cas. It’s even better than Ellen’s (not that I would tell her that.)

He loves Sam as much as I do! Sammy means the world to me and to know that Cas loves him and treats him like his own brother means everything! Cas will hang out with Sam just as much as me and that earns major brownie points in my book!

He knows nothing about cars but he loves Baby! Enough said!

He loves animals. I never thought I would enjoy giving up a couple Saturday’s a month to go volunteer at the humane society but boy do I love it! I think I’ll ask Cas about adopting a pet and see what he says. I bet he’ll say yes.

His head tilts when he’s confused. It’s just so damn cute.

That damn trench coat of his. He’s the only person in the world who looks so darn sexy in a plain brown coat.

The fact that he will steal my clothes and wear them before wearing his own. God he looks sexy when he wears my stuff.

All the times we spend hanging out. Cas is always down to do anything whether it's going to the arcade, or the zoo or a football game. Hell we spent an entire day at a car museum and then at a natural history museum just so we could do what each other likes! Besides Sam, there’s no other person I would want to hang out with.

His personality! Wow, that’s a huge one but it’s true. Cas is the most caring, thoughtful, loyal, smart, funny, kind, awesome, brave, generous, etc, etc. Cas is the best friend a guy could ask for and I can’t imagine not having him in my life. He’s a freaking angel and I just wished I deserved him. I wish I had the freaking nerve to tell him how I feel because getting to spend the rest of my life with someone as amazing as Cas is better than all the free burgers and pie in the world.

I could keep going but my hand is getting tired and I’ve got work to get to or else Bobby will have my hide. Maybe, one day, I’ll actually show this to Cas but probably not. I only did this because Sam suggested it would help come up with a way to ask Cas out, but all it’s done is made me realize why I don’t deserve him in the first place.

Cas plopped down on Dean’s bed and just stared at the note, unable to believe what he just read. He sat there for nearly ten minutes trying to process his thoughts. Finally, he grabbed a piece of paper off Dean’s desk and started writing a letter of his own.

“Cas, I’m home! I figured I would make my burgers for dinner along with some homemade fries. Afterwards, we can watch that bee documentary you recorded,” Dean called as he headed to the kitchen. He smiled when he saw his friend sitting at the table, a cup of hot tea nestled between his hands. Cas had a real fondness for the stuff.

“Hello Dean,” Cas said.

Dean paused, Cas’ tone not the pleasant sound it normally was. “Uh, everything alright?”

Cas nodded and took a sip of his drink. “It is.” He sat his cup back down before reaching into his pocket and taking a piece of paper out. He unfolded it and slid it to the opposite side of the table. “Sit down, and read this please.”

Dean couldn’t help but eye his roommate as he took a seat and grabbed the paper. The blood drained from his face when he read the top line.

All My Favorite Things About My Favorite Person aka The Person I’m In Love With

Dean’s stomach was in knots as he looked at Cas. “Uh, what is this?”

“Just read it Dean,” Cas replied.

Dean sighed before looking at the paper once more.

1. His looks. I am a sucker for blonde hair and he has dark golden locks that always seem to lie perfectly even when he just runs his fingers through it. His eyes are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. They are like a forest on a warm spring day. 2. His laugh. He doesn’t laugh overly much but when he does, he has a smile that lights up his face and his whole body shakes with joy. I could listen to his laugh from sunrise to sunset. I’ve noticed he laughs a lot around me and it always makes my heart beat faster when I hear it. 3. His body! The Greek sculptors couldn’t find a better specimen if they looked. He has the perfect face with plump lips, high cheekbones, and a strong jaw. Then he’s got wonderfully muscled shoulders, a wide chest, a toned stomach, and bow legs (which I find freaking adorable. I may or may not have seen his cock which is extremely impressive and I dream about wrapping my mouth around it and bringing him to orgasm.

Dean couldn’t help his thoughts as he read. “This dude sounds perfect but hell, I’ve got all of that. I mean my hair may not be gold and my eyes are just a plain green but I’ve got a pretty good body. I definitely have the damn bow legs and my dick is pretty spectacular.” He continued reading.

4. Did I mention his bow legs? I know he hates them, but I think it just adds to his overall physique. I wouldn’t mind having them wrapped around me any day!

5. His voice. When he sings, it’s like water running over rocks. It’s clear and smooth and I wish he'd sing more often!

6. His love of cars! He’s got the most awesome vintage car in the world and there’s nothing better than just going on long drives in her. I can spend hours listening to him talk about cars even if I don’t have a fucking clue what he’s talking about.

Dean tried to keep the scowl from his face as he thought, “Now wait a damn minute! Baby is the best car in the world and whoever this guy is can bite me! Maybe Cas doesn’t like Baby as much as I thought. I guess he was just pretending about enjoying our car rides together.”

7. His ridiculous amount of knowledge about all pop culture related things. I don’t think he can say more than three sentences without referencing a movie, or TV show, or band. It’s ridiculous and sometimes talking to him is like trying to learn a foreign language! But that just gives me all the more reasons to have movie marathons with him so that maybe one day, I can be as savvy as he is.

8. His obsession with cowboys! The man dresses as Clint Eastwood every year for Halloween! Need I say more?

Dean glanced at Cas, but he was looking to the side towards the kitchen window. “I want to meet this dude and show him I know more about pop culture than he ever could! I also bet my Clint Eastwood costume is better! I don’t understand why Cas is so caught up on this dude! I have all of this and I bet I do it better!”

9. His cooking! If I could only eat his burgers for the rest of my life, I’d die a happy man!

“I thought my burgers were the best, though! Cas has said multiple times how they’re practically orgasmic,” Dean said inside his head.

10. His love of sweets, especially pie! He would live on pie if he could and I love to spend all day baking sweets and watch him enjoy the fruits of my labor!

11. He’s a family man and loves his brother with everything he has! They have one of the strongest sibling bonds I’ve ever seen and I’m so happy they took me in and include me in all their adventures.

12. He knows nothing about bees but will listen to me ramble about them all day. He gets this almost dreamy look as he listens and it makes my heart melt to know that he pays attention even if it isn’t his thing.

Dean frowned as he thought, “I fucking enjoy Cas’ baking and I will listen to him all damn day talk about bees! Why is Cas so hung up on this dude when I’ll do all the same shit! What if Sam was right and Cas got tired of waiting for me, so found someone else that was a lot like me?”

13. He loves coming to the animal shelter with me! He didn’t at first but now he never says no! Maybe one day, we’ll have our very own dog or cat.

14. He has this small pudge above his waist from all the burgers and pie he eats that won’t go away no matter what! Again he hates it, but it’s the comfiest spot to rest my head on when we’re lying on the couch together.

Dean dropped his hand to his stomach and pushed against his own small pooch. Cas always used it for a pillow, but this mystery guy’s must be better. Since when did Cas go to the animal shelter with anybody but Dean? Dean thought it was their thing, but obviously he was wrong.

15. His love of all things plaid! Like I’m pretty sure his wardrobe is 90% flannel and 10% everything else! Although, me stealing about ten of his old band t-shirts didn’t help, but they smell like him so I just had to.

16. His necklace that he always wears. His brother gave it to him and he never takes it off.

Dean wrapped his fingers around the amulet hanging from his neck. Sam had given it to him for Christmas when they were kids after their dad failed to show up yet again. It meant the world to him and if he ever lost it, he would be heartbroken.

17. All the time we spend hanging out together. There’s never any telling where we’ll end up! It could be a zoo or a museum or some kind of sports game! We’ve gone bowling, golfing, and I even convinced him to go on a rollercoaster with me. He held onto me the entire time because he’s afraid of heights. Of course I went with him to a car show the following week to even it out.

“I thought hanging out with me was special,” Dean thought sadly. His shoulders dropped as he realized that maybe Cas didn’t enjoy hanging out as much as he thought. It was obvious that Cas enjoyed spending time with his crush more than Dean.

18. His personality! There isn’t enough paper in the world to write everything I love about him. He’s wicked smart and has a great sense of humor! He’s loyal and kind hearted! He will help anybody who needs a helping hand whether it’s mowing their lawn or taking them to the store because their car broke down. He’s stubborn, sure, but he’s also brave and ambitious and full of life. He’s definitely the life of every party we go to! He’s the extrovert to my introvert. He’s extremely dependable and responsible. He’s strong but also gentle! He can be a little cocky but hey, he’s earned it! He’s the best guy I’ve ever met and I would never want to live another day of my life without him. There’s not another guy on this Earth that I love like I do him and I just wish he realized how much I care for him. He can be very self doubtful about himself even though he can also be the most confident person in the world. I love him with all of my heart and I just hope when I finally tell him how I feel, he won’t turn me down.

Dean dropped the paper to the table, unable to look at it any longer. He was barely keeping the tears from falling as his heart shattered into pieces. He had everything on Cas’ list, yet Cas had chosen another person instead of him. All because Dean had been too chicken to admit his feelings. He looked up at Cas and tried to plaster a smile on his face. “I hope this guy realizes just what a gift he has waiting for him. You’re amazing Cas and anybody would be lucky to call you theirs.”

Cas smiled. “Thank you, Dean. He is a pretty awesome guy, and there’s no one else I’d rather be with.”

Dean sighed, trying to keep the bitterness from leaking into his voice. “Then why aren’t you with him? Why didn’t you show him this list instead of me? Do you want me to proofread the damn thing for you?” So, he was being a bit of an ass. He just found out the guy he was in love with didn’t like him back. How else was he supposed to respond?

Cas laughed softly. “No, I don’t want you to proofread it. As far as why I didn’t just hand it to the guy, I actually just did. He’s being a little dense right now.”

“Wait, what?” Dean exclaimed, his eyes locking with Cas’. Had Cas just said what he thought he said? Dean tried to keep his hopes in check in case he had heard wrong.

Cas stood to his feet and walked over to stand beside Dean. He reached for Dean’s hand and wrapped his fingers around Dean’s. “You are the guy in that letter.”

Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times before squeaking out, “Me?”

“Yes, you. I saw your letter to me when I went to get your dirty clothes and figured I’d write one of my own,” Cas explained. He squeezed Dean’s fingers and smiled brightly at him.

Dean stared at Cas before reaching up and cupping his cheek in his hand. “You really mean it?” he asked as he searched Cas’ eyes for any sort of lie.

“Every word,” Cas said softly. “I love you Dean, so much it hurts.”

“I love you too, Cas! I’m sorry it took so long,” Dean said, a tear sliding down his cheek.

“That’s ok, we just have lots of time to make up for! There’s a few things on our lists that I want to make a reality ASAP,” Cas replied with a smirk.

Dean’s eyes went wide as a smile stretched his lips. “Oh fuck yes,” he cried before crashing his lips against Cas’. Cas responded immediately, sliding his hands into Dean’s hair and slotting their mouths ever tighter together. They finally had their favorite person in their arms!

#suptober20 #My writing #my OTP #Destiel

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huntective-kyeo · 4 years ago

Text

❗Warning❗ TYPOS, SPELLING, AND GRAMMAR. And English is not my first language. Kinda angry hehehe

This is my first time to post it here and I hope you like it. Feel free to criticize my writing so I can improve.

So enjoy.

FIRST FANFIC

My Father is Dean Winchester

Dean POV

I sat down on the chair and open the lid of the beer. It's been hectic two weeks. Sam and I hunt a witch in Colorado and it took us a week to find the witch and killed it. That witch got Sam to bruise his ankle, and a concussion but thankfully nothing major injuries that needed stitches and so. Most of all the sonavabitch wore witch almost touch and probably hex my Baby which I did make her pay for it.

All in all, it took us a few days to get back at the bunker and now I'm sitting on the chair, probably wanted to eat some pies and get drunk.

My thoughts interrupt when the door opened and I looked up wonder who that person is. My instinct is to grab my trustful gun and aim it towards that intruder. However instead of getting alert, and hunting instinct it exactly quite opposite to what I feel right now.

Third POV.

A girl took a deep breath and with her shaky hand, she holds the handle and she pauses before she opened the door.

She didn't know what to do or what to say. She felt nervous to face them all. She wants to keep it secret however it keeps harder and harder to hide all the symptoms she felt during the last few months.

with heavy heart and soul, she opened the door and wish that bunker is well as empty as when she leaves it a few hours ago.

She didn't notice that the Impala, her first love park on her usual spot, she didn't notice a man sit on the chair seem like thinking something, she didn't notice her dad.

Dean POV

" y/n? " I blurted out. I didn't notice that my daughter y/n leave the bunker without telling us, or wasn't I?

Y/n my precious daughter, my little sunshine, and the only reason aside from my little brother who keeps me alive. 16 years ago Her mother and I met at the bar and happened to have one night stand. I was drunk to forget us condoms. I didn't realize it until, nine months later, Kylia found me and she shove the newly baby born into arms. I didn't hear her rants about not wanting kids because I was so fallen to my baby girl. I swear y/n is the most beautiful baby girl that I've ever seen. From that fateful night, I swore that I protect and love her no matter what.

With the help of my brother and my family, we did a good job raising a finest and yet mini-me y/n which kinda bit frustrated when she becomes a rebellious teenager and seeking for a new way to hunt.

I know that being a father and hunter ain't hood to raise a child in a world full of darkness but I did try my best to become a father that she deserved and not the father that I used to grow up

I again clear up my throat and by the time that I saw her, I know something is terrible up. Called it father instinct. My stomach began to feel something that I don't know if it's about the food or the worriedness about my daughter.

"Where have you been, I told you not to go outside not unless if you needed something but should-" I stumble and am shocked by a sudden hug coming from my daughter. My eyebrows meet and speculate more thoughts about what happened to her during a few weeks.

Then suddenly y/n cried up and my heart broke up thousand of pieces. Through I used to her cry of nonsense but this is different. I can feel it.

I began to think of a different reason why she cried like this. Is she on her period? Did a boy break her heart? If it is, then who? Oh god, my baby girl is heartbroken?! No-no-no.

" Hey, baby girl what's wrong? " I managed to ask a few words as I stroke her hair.

I didn't get her reply as she continues sobbing and sniffing on my chest. I continuously stroke her hair and rubbed a small circle on her back. With her tears I heard, I began to tear up which probably I got hurt when my baby girl gets hurt.

I saw Sam holding a can and some books and gave me confused look. I know he was confused about what is going on and the same as me. I only gave her shrug off before concentrate on keeping her calm down.

I sigh and sing a song that makes her calm down. It's a song that I always sing to her whenever she feels scared and upset. it her lullaby and till now I always sing to her when she felt like this. And now even though she's growing up ain't stopping this.

'Hey Jude, don't make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better'

I sang softly and smile. I heard her sobs subside and her shoulder is no longer tensed. I kissed her head and quietly sing the rest of the song

By the song ends, y/n look up to me and hate to see her red-rimmed eyes and red nose face at me.

" Daddy... "

Y/n POV

After the song finish, I felt quite comfortable and my heart no longer pains me.

" daddy" I called up again. I hate seeing my dad worried glances and I wanted to back down but I know it's too late, now that I cried to his chest, and makes my father worried.

" what's wrong, princess " I nearly chuckle to hear the old nickname that I used to love but hate now. I should give my father annoying and death glares to him but I'm drained and tired to argue with my father.

Instead of the reply to his question, I took a piece of paper inside my leather jacket. With my shaky hand, I hesitate to give it to him. I saw my father unfold the paper and read it.

I know he reads it as I saw his face turn to a worried and horrifying face. I bit my lip as teardrops start to stream to his face and suddenly it aches my heart.

I didn't realize that my uncle Sam was there and he took the paper that my dad read it. My dad was frozen and saw Sam has the same reaction but he stumbled a bit and luckily sat on the chair or else he would hurt more.

The air was tense and several minutes seemed like a century to me as I was forced to see my dad and uncle of their horrifying reaction.

I was about to leave them and lock them up in my room but my dad grabs my wrist and put pressure on it, so I couldn't shove it off, I hesitate to look at his now red-rimmed eyes just like mine.

" Is this true? "

My heart broke as I nod

" when... When did it start? "

I flinched to hear a tone when my dad wanted a straight answer but I could see the difference of it. Instead of deadly and threatened, it's a broken and saddened tone that probably haunt me the rest of my life.

" honey, when did start... " I look up to him as a surprise to hear the familiar fatherly sweet tone that only me can know.

"a few months ago. When you just back from purgatory dad... " I mumble but I know that dad heard it because he mumbles coherent words that I know he's cursing, I wish it's not from me.

Then suddenly my dad sat down on the chair and then he hugged tightly couldn't breathe but slightly loose the tightness but still hugging me

" We can pull this up alright, we will. N/n we will fight this together okay, we'll find ways to rid this shit. We will be on your battle. " I then look up at my father and saw the tense and urging look " we will fight this out but you'll do your job ok, you'll kick this shit out, and keep fighting. Don't give up okay please, little n/n. " I heard him crack as didn't say anything considering, I was crying again and the inky response I can get is nodding.

Then I hug my father again and I feel another wrapped strong arms. I smile softly that uncle Sam joined the party. Now we are Complete, I feel like I'm ready to fight this shut out.

" Winchester is hard to kill, not even cancer. " I chuckle to hear uncle Sammy spoke.

"Yeah right, so you gonna do your part little princess, aright. Don't give up. " My father kiss my forehead. We parted away and wipes the tears we have. We laugh as we sniffle then finally our tears died down.

My father, Dean wipe the remaining tears and I look up to him confused. I saw him sad and regret my eyes and my heart sank.

" I love you N/Niepie, " then he kisses my forehead.

----AND CUT!!! ---

" Nice work J2 and Jodi damn there are no dried tears here " Robert yelled as all the staff and crew wipe their tears. " okay thirty minutes break, Jared, come to me I gotta asked you something" he added.

A group of assistants swarms the actors and did their task. Some wipe their sweats, do makeup, fixing their hair, and so on.

Jensen chuckles a little bit and wipes the remaining tears from his eyes.

" nice job dude, seem like the Days of our Lives gig paid off huh" A sixteen years old, young actress Jodi Smith tease him.

He rolled his eyes and ruffle her hair. " nice try but no you not riding my Baby" Jodi groan and about to reply when her assistant came and whisper to her ear "You're lucky, Mr. Ackles. Robert needs me now but I won't stop bothering you not until I sat on the driver seat and ride the impala".

When Jodi is out of sight, Jensen Ackles began to walk through his trailer. The thirty minutes of break is not enough of yearning for his daughter.

By the time he got inside. He locks it and sits on the couch. He rubbed his tired face as he grabs the old filthy Cinderella wallet. Today scene was emotional to him, not because of the scene itself but because he truly did miss his daughter y/n

In the finale of season 12, alongside Jack Kline played Alexander Calvert, and y/n Winchester played Jodi Smith we're both introduced and a new cast of Supernatural. Jensen was supposed to be glad that there are two new members of their family, but instead, it replaces guilt and dreadful feelings.

It's not the new cast members but the fact that Jodi Smith portrays is seem a great punch to his heart that he starts to realize he still has a daughter that should be taken care of.

No one knows not even Jared. Danneel and the kids, the crew nor the fans knew that the great Jensen Ackles has a secret daughter and only his close family knew about this truth.

" I'm sorry princess, How I wish I was there for you but you know I can't."

Jensen stroke a faded picture of an eight-year-old girl holding a doll whilst hugging the twenty-year-old Jensen Ackles.

" I'm sorry, I love you" he kisses the picture with so much love and tears began to stream down his cheeks

Hope you like it keep safe everyone. Reblog and like will yah.

#winchester x daughter reader #supernatural #jensen x daughter reader #jensen ackles #x daughter reader #dean x Reader #dean x daughter reader

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newobsessionweekly · 4 years ago

Text

The pain she left behind

Title: The pain she left behind

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader, Sam x Platonic!Reader, Castiel x Platonic!Reader, Jack x Platonic!Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: language, character death, grieveing, Dean crying, angst, death, a little bit of explicit content, violence, fluff, spoilers s14

Prompt 1: Loving me is a death sentence.

Prompt 2: We found each other. That’s all that matters.

A/N: This is my enterance for SPN Bi-Weekly Writing Challenge. I don’t usually write and all that, but I wanted to try something new and I don’t know... I tried my best, I hope you enjoyed it!

Tag: @supernatural-jackles

Something Dean has told himself and everyone around when they asked, is that he doesn’t need that in his life. He doesn’t need love, he doesn’t need to find a girl; he tried that before and it didn’t work out. But what he needs is to have his mind clear, focused on cleaning America from monsters, he needs to keep his family safe. But he failed, he met you and all his life was turned upside down. And sometimes he regrets the day they met you, because now, you are just too hard to forget.

Laying on the kitchen floor, heavily breathing from the enormous weight that’s pressing on his chest, Dean’s playing with a bottle of beer, switching it annoyingly from one hand to another over and over again, just as you’re switching in his head, from one memory to one another. He locked himself in his room for the past 3 days, binge watching some random horror movies wanting to wash away the need to cry, to scream, and beg God to bring you back to him, but it was pointless, he still cried himself to sleep. So he decided it’s time for something stronger; he needs to be back in tracks as soon as possible and be ready to fight the monster that took you away, there’s no time to grieve.

“Dean!” Sam yelled his name again while descending the stairs to the kitchen, abruptly snapping him from his memories of you.

He refuses to answer, he refuses to talk to anyone and Sam understands it, because he feels the empty space you left in their lives too, but he’s maybe more afraid than Dean to show it. Sam wants to be strong for his brother, he wants to be there for him, especially these days. Only the third time after hearing his name, Dean bothered to look up at his younger brother and allow him to see all the broken pieces of his heart spread all over the place.

“Sammy, I don’t want to talk to you right now.” Dean’s voice is rough and shaky, tears threatening to burst in any moment and Dean’s aware that he’s going to lose it soon, but still hoping that Sam will not be around.

“Dean, you have to – “

“I don’t have to do anything today.” He raised his index finger and stopped Sam, then he pointed to the fridge: “Now pass me another beer and leave.”

Sam did so and Dean thanked him with just a movement of his head, before turning his attention to the abandoned metallic box full of memories from his lap. A bunch of photos with Sammy, some with his mom and dad, few with his friends that soon became family, and even fewer with you. Dean doesn’t like photos that much, he’s not that kind of guy who’d let himself be photographed everywhere and every time, but now he wishes he was that kind and wishes he’d have done a lot more photos beside you. There are only six instant photos of you, with a red ribbon wrapped around them; six, one for every anniversary and one from the first proper Christmas the Winchesters ever had.

He’d have wanted to be that stupid kind of men and take photos of you everywhere: in your favourite pyjamas, curled up in a chair from the library with a leg under you, so deeply focused in research, trying so hard to fit in with his life; standing in front of a pan in the mornings when Sam would be out of town, only in your beautiful underwear, moving your hips while making breakfast for him; curled up in a soft, warm blanket on a chair, sound asleep far too many hours before Sam and Dean would come home after so many weeks of being away.

“Dean!”

You jumped from one of the chairs on the war room at the sound of the bunker’s door loudly opening. You almost caught roots on that place waiting for Dean and Sam to show up. You woke up alone this morning, no sight of any of the brothers or your angelic friend so you waited and waited before panic started to grow inside of you. You prayed to Cas and asked him if something happened, you started to pace around the war room when no answer was coming and then you sat on that chair and wondered what the hell happened with everyone. Bad scenarios running through that beautiful mind of yours and you were preparing for the worst.

But you were never prepared for what entered that door; Sam, Dean and Cas were fighting over heels to carry a giant fir tree, you could bet it is even taller than Sam. Your jaw dropped at the sight of Dean, all covered in snow and sweat beads painting his forehead, trying his best not to drop the lower part of the tree.

“What happened? Are you ok? How hard did Sam hit you in the head?” You tried to hide the fact that you were scared as hell with a sarcastic tone, and thankfully Dean bite it, but Cas not so much, because he was throwing you Cas-type of awkward glances.

Dean always rejected the idea of having a proper and normal holiday celebration so as you skipped Halloween, again, you pleaded and pleaded, every night and every day to celebrate at least Christmas, your favourite holiday. But a week or two ago, you gave up when you saw you were getting not even a negative response to your question.

Library was transformed and instead of two big and cold tables with some uncomfortable chairs around, there was a long table decorated with two beautiful candlesticks and little angels and snowflakes. The dish was prepared by Dean with a little help from you, and all around the bunker were hanged beautiful lights, some Santa figurines and angels. Christmas tree was decorated by you and Dean who got involved in this holiday celebration thing more than you even expected.

Sitting around the Christmas tree, after everybody praised the food, you were smiling proudly to have these special people around you. Jody, Donna, Claire, Alex, Patience and Kaia are your second family, and every time Sam and Dean would leave for a serious case, they’d prefer you to stay with the girls. Not because they don’t trust you, just because they’d be more peacefully than knowing you home alone so many days in the bunker. You and Alex became very good friends especially because none of you is hunting. Your boyfriend wants to keep you out of this life as much as possible and is trying to make everything as normal as he can.

Dean ripped you from your thoughts when he wrapped his hand around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder. You smiled at him excitedly and then exchanged presents with the girls. Then you gave Jack his present, a blue sweater to match yours, and he sadly looked at you. You panicked a little when you saw his face and your body strained, catching Dean’s attention.

“Why are you sad? You don’t like it?” you asked Jack.

“No,no! I love it!” he immediately said, stopping you from making films inside your head. “But I didn’t know we were buying each other gifts. I thought only Dean was supposed to buy you a present, because he’s your boyfriend.”

“Oh, so Dean bought me a present, huh?” you turned to look at your boyfriend and showed him your most beautiful and mischievous smile. “Sam, you really should tell me with what you hit him in the head because it may use me too in the future.”

Everyone laughed at your joke and Dean could swear he had never seen you so happy in his life. He knows Christmas is your favourite holiday and he and Sam were always preoccupied with hunting and saving the world to even think about these holidays, but you understood and never complained. You anyway got to celebrate it at Jody’s place, so you never said anything to Dean, mostly because it was pointless; you loved Dean so much and you accepted him as he is, you accepted his life and embraced it, though he kept you at a secure distance from his life, especially to protect you, and offered you a life as normal as possible, but it was impossible after a certain point ...

Sam watched Dean from distance as he flipped through the Polaroids, with tears cascading on his cheeks, knotting under his chin and loud sobs shaking his body in pain. It breaks Sam’s heart, but he needs it, he needs to cry, to express his feelings, to get it over his chest, even for a moment.

Jack accompanied Sam and Cas and watched over Dean, but they stopped themselves to intervene when a bottle of beer loudly crashed on the floor and wetted everything around. All three of them startled when the sound reached their ears, but they stood still.

It was odd for Dean to break like that in a place where anyone could enter any moment, but nothing was normal anymore, it wasn’t normal for him to lose like that the love of his life, so he allowed himself to do all sorts of strange things in order to calm down even for a second.

“Deano!” you giggled happily in his ear as your body embraced him from behind, your naked body combined with his, just as clothless as yours. It is barely eight and he would probably curse for the rest of the morning if your plan on waking him up will work. It is your fifth anniversary and after long and deep talks with Sam, you decided it’s time to do a little more today.

After you prepared your special breakfast while Sam was leaning on the kitchen counter giving you small advices here and there, he decided to leave you two alone, teasing you, saying you can be as noisy as you please.

You leaned over him and pressed your lips on his back, chaotically tracing kissed all over his shoulders and going up to his neck and cheeks and then right back from the beginning. Leaving wet spots all over his body, Dean rolled on his back, making you to fall on top of him, your breasts pressing firmly on his chest.

“Well, that is a very interesting way to wake me up, sweetheart.” Dean yawned and looked at you first only with his right eye, then with his left one, finding it very hard to keep them both open.

You are a simple couple, but more like an old married couple who just puzzle up one another like you’ve known each other for your whole lives. Dean and you as well are not the kind to celebrate and do big stuff about it, just cooking together a breakfast, finally making time for you in such a long time and mostly spending the day together, talking and fixing the problems that you encountered on the way. You are just communicating, that’s your celebration. And this is all you need. But this morning, Dean felt it’s going be a little different. He can smell the breakfast already cooked and he frowned at the smell of fresh, hot coffee.

He kissed you with love, cupping your cheek and rubbing his finger over it, as he always does when he wants to melt your heart, because he knows your weaknesses so well. You cuddle in a little more before you decided to get out of bed and eat your breakfast, stalling a bit to telling one more time – or ten more times – how much you love each other.

“I wanted to spoil you today.” You told him as you put your underwear on and wrapped the red satin robe, the one Dean loves, around your body.

“You know what –“ Dean begins, chewing loudly his bacon. “I’ve been thinking –“ he stops again, sipping his coffee, giving you appreciative sounds as in he’s enjoying very much the coffee you made.

“Oh, no! Always ends bad when you’re thinking.” You teased him and laughed so hard when he gives you the Winchester bitch face. “Ok, we are serious this morning. I’m listening.”

“I was thinking... maybe we should get married.” He says.

Your heart stops at the sound of his words and you almost choke with coffee, slightly coughing to get lost the lump that formed in your throat. You dreamed of marrying Dean from the first moments when you met him. He’s exactly what you’re looking for in a man, he is smart, funny and you can feel his love for you, though he doesn’t show it that much. You love him terribly much and never crossed your mind that this day would come, despite the fact you wanted it so bad. You understand that his life is dangerous, complicated and he doesn’t have time for this kind of things in the first place. You never thought about changing a thing about him or his life and never said anything, because nothing bothered you in the first place. Dean loves you, Dean treats you so right and protects you that you never needed anything and accepted him with his good and a little less good things without questioning, because it is a part of loving.

You adore him with every inch of your being, and the fact that he thought about marring you shocked you, that for the first time, you couldn’t get the words find your mouth. He looked at you, still chewing his food, but he had more of a worried look.

“Ar-are you sure?” you asked and he grabbed your hand over the table and caressed your soft skin.

“Yes, I am a hundred percent sure.” He frowned a little before he continued: “You?”

“Yes!” you immediately responded, leaving no place for any other thoughts. “Yes, I want to marry you, Dean Winchester.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” He chuckled and pressed his lips over yours, and then over your forehead. “I discussed with my mom about it, when she was around... She gave me her ring.”

He excitedly bit his bottom lip and then he told you to wait for him, just rising his index finger and then hurried over your bedroom. You smiled like a fool and your stomach flipped almost painfully just at the thought that he discussed this with his mother, especially knowing how important his mother was.

He came back too soon and ripped out of your thoughts and he shyly asked for your hand. Dean placed the ring on your ring finger and you kissed him so many times, as he dragged you on his lap.

You planned your wedding to be something simple, just a dinner with some friends at the bunker, but soon enough, it turned out to be a dinner with all of your friends at the bunker. You are wearing a simple white casual dress and Dean is wearing his FBI costume, nothing fancy, because fancy was never the Winchester style.

“I am not good at words, especially not at speeches.” He paused a little and everyone laughed. “But I need to say that I love you to death, Y/n Winchester! And I am so grateful that we found each other, that’s all that matters. “

“I love you to death, Dean Winchester!”

And you indeed loved him to death.

In Dean’s head was repeating over and over again the way your body collapsed into the ground, as the last tears fell onto your cheeks when your eyes shut closed. Dean could imagine only a quarter of the pain you left the world with, but he never understood your enormous love for him, not even in your last moments when you looked at him and told him how much you love him.

As Chuck paced the grass and waited, you stand still as you had the gun He gave to you pointed at Jack. The nephilim is dangerous, he is a monster and must be stopped.

“Y/n!” Sam and Dean shouted as they came running towards you. “Y/n, no!”

“I understand...” Jack said, looking up to you from where he stayed on his knees, Sam and Dean calling your name in the background. “I know what I’ve done.”

“No, no, no, no! Y/n!” your husband came running to you, but he stopped as he heared your voice:

“Stay back, Dean!” you said, looking at Jack.

“And you were right, all along. I am a monster.” Jack said.

“Do something!” Dean told Chuck, but he frowned when He shushed him. “Are you enjoying this?”

You took the safety off as you overheard their conversation and looked at Jack one more time; he was standing in his knees in front of you, with his hands folded on his lap, looking innocently at you. He is just a kid, he’s no monster. You frowned; all of this is just Chuck’s plan. You put the safety back on and lowered the gun, throwing it away on the grass.

“No,no! Pick it up!” Chuck said and approached the two of you and Jack looked at him with a frowning painted on his face. “Pick it up! This isn’t how the story is suppose to end!”

“The story?” Castiel asked.

“Look at the Gathering Storm, the gun... this is epic!”

“Wait what are you saying?” Dean asked Chuck, moving his sight from you to Him.

“He’s saying that he’s been playing us...” Sam responded and Chuck sighs “...this whole time.”

“Come on – “ Chuck started but he’s been interrupted by Sam:

“Our entire lives... mom, dad, everything. This is all you, because... you wrote it all, right? Because... because, what? Because we’re your favourite show? Because we’re part of your story?”

“Y/n, no offense, but your brother-in-law is stupid and crazy. This kid is still dangerous. So pick up the gun.” You looked at the gun but didn’t make any move. “Pick is up. Pull the trigger. And I’ll bring her back. I’ll bring Mary back.”

Everyone’s faces fell contemplatively, and you really thought about it as a possibility. Jack moved his looking to you and tried to understand what were you thinking.

“No!” Dean responded immediately.

“I’m not talking to you, Dean. I know how much you want this for Dean, because you love him so much and you want him to be happy and all crap. So pull the trigger and I’ll bring her back.”

“No.” You said and Chuck frowned.

“My mom was my hero, and I miss her, and I will miss her every second of my life, but she would not want this, she would not want this for Y/n. She wouldn’t want for her to have her hands stained with innocent blood and live with the thought of killing someone innocent, someone she loves so much, for the rest of her life. And it’s not like you even really care, ‘cause Sam’s right. The Apocalypse, Lucifer and Michael, you knew everything that was going on. So why the games, Chuck? Huh? Why don’t you just snap your fingers and end it?”

”Look...” Chuck started, but he was again stopped by Sam.

“And every other bad thing we’ve been killing, or dying over...” he scoffed. “Where were you? Just sitting back and watching us suffer? So we can do this over and over and over again? Fighting, losing people we love? When does it end? Tell me!”

“Y/n, don’t do this – “ Chuck said, but no one let Him finish one sentence.

“No, we’re done talking. ’Cause this... this isn’t just a story... it’s our lives! Leave my wife alone. So God or no God, go to hell!” Dean said, both of the Winchesters having their serious faces put on, while chuck smiled mischievously in the corner of the lips.

“Have it your way!” He said, then snapping his fingers.

Everybody watched as your body collapsed lifelessly into the ground, and Dean shouted your name, but the pain was too deafening. Everyone was shocked, and Sam reacted as adrenaline was pumping in his body. He picked up the gun and drunken in pain, he shot Chuck in order to kill, for you, for his best friend. Unfortunately, he shot God in shoulder, and Sam as well felt a killing pain in his shoulder.

Dean cried his pain out of his body, his soul and he tried to cry you out of his mind too, but it was too hard. He tried to erase that hurtful memory of you, but it just wouldn’t get off, it would play over and over again, just to kill him slowly and slowly every second. He broke down one more time, loudly sobbing and frantically shaking his body.

Sam ran towards him and crashed beside him, Sam as well having tears staining his cheeks at the sight of his big brother broken like this. There were too many bottles of beer drunk and Dean was not feeling alright at all. Sam’s arms moved around Dean’s body and embraced him, trying not to let him broke into pieces.

“It’s alright, Dean! I’m here. I’m here, Dean!” Sam shushed him and tried to keep him from shaking.

“Everyone around me is getting hurt and they are dying, Sammy. Loving me is a death sentence, Sammy.”

“Dean... listen to me!” Sam cupped his cheeks and moved his head from his shoulder so that he can look into Dean’s eyes. “Dean, look at me. I love you and I’m not going anywhere, alright? Y/n loves you from a better place, alright? I bet you’re gonna get into the same heaven someday, alright?” Dean slowly nodded his head and looked at Sam between the eyelashes, finally he stopped crying. “Let’s go get your strength back and we’re going to kill that son of a bitch, alright?” Dean nodded again and let Sam put him to bed, hoping maybe it will hurt less tomorrow.

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cherry3point14 · 5 years ago

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The Wrong Winchester - One Year Later

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam x Eileen Warnings: Cavity protection required. Word Count: 12,304. (WHY) Summary: One year after the fiasco that was Fourth of July, you’re back in Kansas and back at the Winchesters. This time with their other son. A/N: A sequel for the trope fluff fest that was The Wrong Winchester. Somehow this is fluffier and more trope-y! Listen, I didn’t say it was good, just that it exists. Happy 4th July my bitches! (*sobs in the corner* this was supposed to be a timestamp)

Ao3 if you prefer.

June has been cool this year, more so than normal, but then the heat of July hits like clockwork. Even though you enjoy airplanes, and the AC they provide, you’ve done the drive because Dean hates flying. It’s not even a compromise because the detour your journey takes means that it’s Thursday evening by the time you arrive in Lawrence. Sam and Eileen got there mid-morning. You’re hoping that the Winchesters are so distracted getting to know her that you can slip in like an old piece of furniture, unnoticed and ignored.

It’s when he turns the corner onto their street, and the family home looms in the distance, that it hits you. You’re here, again, and you’re doing this, again. And nobody would ever believe it but this is considerably worse because this time you love the guy sitting next to you.

Not that you’ve told him that yet. It’s been a slow year.

Loving Dean does complicate things though. It means that you care what the Winchesters think of you. Last year, pretending, was a walk in the park in comparison. You knew Sam was fake breaking up with you after you left. You could have cheated on Sam in front of him and it wouldn’t have mattered because it was all, well, fake.

Although you did kind of cheat on Sam in front of him. Boy, did you hope Sam hadn’t told them about that.

Now, the house you’re pulling up at makes your toes curl inside your shoes while hurried excuses start pouring out. “You’re positive you don’t want to stay in a hotel? Take the pressure off your mom having to entertain us and Sam and Eileen. That’s a lot of guests.” You nod to yourself convincingly while you stare at the front door.

He smiles at you like you’re adorable, which you don’t appreciate. “If you’re looking to make her hate you, then yeah, go ahead and tell my Mom you’re taking her firstborn to a hotel for the weekend.”

You huff and pout your lips so he knows exactly how frustrated you are, “I know you’re right, doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

“When are you ever?” He counters, smirking as he gets out of the car. You follow suit although you’re convinced that as your foot hits the stone driveway you can hear the ticking of a countdown. One small step for you, one giant leap to your doom.

Dean grabs your case and his duffel from the trunk, settling one on top of the other so that he has a free hand to wrap around your waist. It’s probably a picturesque image, him walking you to the house like that. You’re not sure if he’s being nice or making sure you don’t run away. Dean’s a smart man so it’s probably a little of both.

His hand reaches to open the door but even after the long drive from Chicago, your reactions are lightning-fast. You pull his arm back to stop him and answer the silent look on his dumb face, “shut up. We should knock.”

“Did you give Sammy this much trouble last year?”

His joke drags a smile out of you, not a laugh but a smile. He’s been trying to calm you down the whole journey. You don’t get nervous often, so seeing you this anxious has both worried and amused him. He’s settled for being supportive, he’s done everything he can to take your mind off of this moment. He told you exaggerated fake facts about Kansas to stop you complaining that the entire state was too damn hot. He distracted you with questions about the case you’re working on when you panicked about exactly how Sam had explained everything all those months ago. And most importantly he fed you. A few hours out he’d pulled into a drive-through and minutes later you’d found yourself pulled over on a random stretch of highway, legs crossed, and a brown paper bag in your lap. He’d wiped sauce from the corner of your mouth and watched you wolf down cheese fries.

Dean knew how to keep you happy for the hours you’ve spent in Baby. But now that you’re finally standing at the threshold he, apparently, thinks it’s time to throw you to the wolves, which he does, literally.

In one swift movement, the door is open before you can rap your knuckles against it and he uses his arm—the one that’s around your waist—to guide you inside. Except guiding you inside is more like a gentle push, which means you trip your way into the Winchester family home while Dean remains safely on the porch.

“What the f-?” The end of your sentence never makes it past your lips, thankfully, considering the gathering in the living room as you turn your head.

Sam and Eileen are sitting opposite Mary and John, all of them holding a drink, clearly mid-conversation. They all stop. Four pairs of eyes are now trained on you. Even after a too-long second has passed none of them move as if your presence has frozen them in time. A perpetual state of being horrified by your existence.

“Dean!?” You don’t exactly shout but there’s a worried twang to your voice and still, none of them move. In fact, Sam doesn’t even attempt to help, which is a betrayal you won’t allow to pass unpunished or forgotten.

That’s for another day. Right now you’re about thirty seconds away from your first actual panic attack in years.

Dean slips in behind you, eventually. Even walking in with the bags he’s more graceful than you had been stumbling in. Not that you compliment him on that. You’re too preoccupied because you might have broken the Winchesters.

“Honey!” Mary beams with happiness at the sight of her eldest son and jumps up from her seat like a mannequin come to life. Whatever spell had been cast breaks so quickly that it might not have happened at all. Every single person takes a breath again and Mary walks over, wine forgotten on the coffee table, to hug Dean the way you’d seen her do a year ago.

“Mom!” He hugs her back, wrapping her up in his arms and lifting her from the floor an inch or two. You want to say he’s the cutest thing ever with that childlike smile on his face.

That’s what you want to say.

Unfortunately, the innocence doesn’t last as his expression morphs into a cocky smirk with a waving hand in your direction once he lets his mother go. “You remember Y/N, right?”

Is he freaking kidding?

Mary’s face steels, as if Dean had never entered the room. Your best friend and his girlfriend, who you know pretty well at this point, remain safely in their seats. And your boyfriend, your goddamn boyfriend who you love and trust, is standing there at an arm's length like this is an early fireworks display. The fuses have been lit and he is waiting for the explosives to go off.

The only person in the room who dares to make eye contact with you—outside of the matriarch—is John freaking Winchester. And he has the audacity to smile sweetly at you. Or as sweetly as John Winchester is capable of.

“Of course I remember Y/N.” Mary’s words are friendly but her tone does not mirror the sentiment. She taps her chin with one extended finger, thinking, “you were on Sam’s arm last year, if I remember rightly.”

You were going to murder Sam and thanks to your job you’d get away with it too. “I’m so sorry Mary, Sam told me he explained. It was all a misunderstanding, I was only…”

“Only jumping around between my boys? Or was the misunderstanding when we welcomed you into our home and you lied to us?”

You may have met your match. You could never admit this to the district attorney's office but Mary has found a way to silence you with a stare. Your lips snap shut without a good answer for her. You feel like a child being chastised for making a mess.

In fairness you had made a mess last year, however, you cleaned it up afterward.

Your eyes dart to the still-open front door before you rummage up an answer. “I don’t think jumping between them is very fair, Sam and I weren’t a real thing. I mean we’re still besties, even if he won’t call us that, but we were pretending. Which is still wrong but I defy any of you to say no to him when he does that dopey puppy face of his. Anyway I know he told you it was his idea, because it was, and I made sure he told you that because I don’t want you thinking that I came up with it and…”

“Great, you got her stuck in a loop, Mom.” Dean grumbles with a roll of his eyes.

“What?” You interrupt your own rambling to frown at him.

That’s when it happens. Mary breaks out into a grin so similar to Dean's that it’s frightening. If Sam got his smile from his mother then Dean inherited her devious smirk.

“It was your idea.” She answers your seemingly caring boyfriend.

You’re confused, as you should be. Hours. Days. Weeks of dreading this moment and this weekend. None of this makes any sense.

“I hate to sound like a broken record but, what?”

Mary turns her brightness on you, in the distance, John barks out a laugh and cracks his hand against his thigh as if this all went completely as planned.

“I’m sorry Y/N. We were only playing. It’s great to see you again.”

Then she hugs you, stiff as you may be from the complicated mix of annoyance and residual fear that you’re feeling. Her arms around you exude motherly warmth, something you’re unfamiliar with, until your muscles relax in her grip.

Over Mary’s shoulder, Dean is pressing his lips together to stop himself laughing and then finally your brain catches up. That bastard set you up. He sold you down the river. Still mid-hug you silently mouth to him, “I’m going to kill you.”

That sends Dean over the edge and a deep belly laugh escapes him. He doesn’t even attempt to apologize. He’s too caught up in how funny he thinks he is.

“So, you were all in on this? You too Sammy?” You splay your hand across your chest now that Mary has released you.

Mary links her arm with yours and leans in as if she didn’t rob you of ten years of your life, “if it helps Eileen told us we were being mean.”

You smile at Eileen, your now very good friend, as you take a seat next to her, “at least someone has my back.”

She shrugs nonchalantly, “well, Sam’s girlfriends need to stick together.”

And just like that. The final knife in your back sets them all off howling with laughter again. This was obviously going to be a long weekend.

It's not even day one, that starts tomorrow. It's been a few hours at best and you're already in bed and staring a hole in the ceiling. Ordinarily, you might be questioning why there is a suspicious rectangle that is whiter than the rest. As if the patch of paint had seen less light than the rest of the room like a poster had been there or something.

“You gotta tell me.”

You scoff. He has done nothing to earn any answers from you so far. Looking after you during the journey must have been an act to lull you into a false sense of security because he jumped ship as soon as you arrived. Winchesters are a tight-knit bunch.

“Come on, please?”

It sucks that you love this idiot, it sucks that you haven’t told him, it’s even worse that you cannot resist him. You roll over to his whining voice and prop yourself up on your elbow. It was foolish to ever hope for a good night's sleep when he’s amped up to be in his childhood home again. You can’t say that you remember him being like this last year but, then again, last year you were avoiding him since you were pretending to date his brother. “Oh my god, if I tell you will you let me sleep already?”

Dean nods, using a finger to draw a cross over his chest. Even in the dark, you can see the crinkles of his eyes deepen playfully, “cross my heart. I’ll even help you get off to sleep, by way of apology.” His fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear to hint at his meaning, under his oversized Zeppelin shirt you’re sleeping in.

“Nice try Benedict Arnold, I haven’t forgotten what you did to me.”

He knows by the tone of your voice he won’t get anywhere right now, although it’s nothing to do with his betrayal. You’re still obsessed with somehow clawing back any semblance of a good impression. Sex in his childhood bed doesn’t strike you as the correct way to go about that. He doesn’t tease and try to change your mind with filthy words he knows you love. You think maybe Dean knows tonight isn't the night either. Maybe that’s why he’s asking questions instead.

His hand slides up over your waist and settles comfortingly around your middle—almost as if he knows he has some groveling to do. He asks again hoping to get one of the things he wants; answers. “C’mon. Just tell me. I’ll tell you mine.”

You haven’t spoken much about last year with Dean and you were absolutely fine with that. Last Fourth of July wasn’t exactly a Kodak moment for you. It almost cost you Sam and as much as you love Dean, Sam’s friendship is one of the very foundations of your adult life. Sure last year was the kind of thing you’ve joked about, but the nitty-gritty details had stayed where they should, in the past.

However, being back here, albeit in the next room over to the one you’d previously occupied, has apparently opened the topic up for conversation.

“Fine. You really want to know?”

“With all my heart.”

“God, you’re lucky you’re cute. At the airport. Okay?”

His smile widens until you can see his teeth shine. “You’re joking?”

You bury your face in the pillow, only coming up for air when necessary despite the way he pokes your sides to make you squirm. “No, I’m not joking. I wasn’t sleepy getting off the plane. I was trying to figure out if there was a way for me to make out with my fake boyfriend's hot older brother.”

“You were too good for your fake boyfriend anyway.” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, “too good for me too.”

He shouldn’t be allowed to catch you off guard like that, it’s against the rules. Yet he does it all the time. The sweetest secrets whispered in your ear while you’re brushing your teeth or watching a movie. As if he needs to tell you as soon as the thought pops into his head. And it’s not fair because he deserved some silent treatment or something. You know he’ll be back to his tricks tomorrow, so he should pay tonight. But now instead of being annoyed at him, your lips are following his while you realize you were never really mad in the first place.

His wandering hand moves to wrap around your neck, his fingers are lost in your hair and his thumb traces over your jaw. This is the classic Dean trick. He thinks he’s so smooth and that one day he’ll manage to keep you attached to his mouth forever if he holds you there, just right.

As much as you want to appease him, it never lasts. Eventually, you always need air in your pesky, needy lungs. Tonight though it ends with your hand on his chest nudging him off of you. “No way. You owe me yours. Come on, when did you start like-liking me?” You finish the question in a sarcastically childish voice.

Dean is nothing if not fair, sometimes, and he would never break a promise. He leans back a little and adopts what you have dubbed his ‘thinking face’. It may be nighttime but you’d recognize that furrowed brow anywhere.

“When I found you in my bedroom.” He finally answers.

It takes a whole second to remember. “Really? You mean when I was trying to find the bathroom?”

“Yeah, I mean a guy comes back to his room and finds a pretty girl...”

It’s your turn to frown, “wait. Correct me if I’m wrong but you’re saying that your ‘moment’ was when you found me in your room, in my pajamas, with bed head and a full bladder?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. You were all cute an’ twitchy when I caught you, then suddenly you’re all fired up and telling me off for making fun of you. You were a little spitfire.”

You drop your forehead to his chest and let out a laugh. Trust Dean to like you because you busted his balls.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, “good enough answer?”

You yawn, happily, and shimmy down into bed proper. “It was your game De. The question is are you happy with yours?”

He settles down next to you, close enough to hear the deep, “mm hmm” in his throat.

Almost everything is different this year but one fact remains the same. You can take the running gear from Sam but you can’t stop Sam from going running.

He has emergency running shoes in his closet.

The new part is that you’re up as early as he is. You’re sitting on the sofa with your laptop propped up on your knees, with yet another witness statement that you were sure was made up. It was too perfect and a jury would never buy it.

By the time Sam, the sweat machine, returns you’re typing a passive-aggressive email to that effect.

“You had any coffee yet?” He asks with two mugs in his hands, passing one to you.

You take the mug without looking up from the screen and swallow a scalding sip, which you only half notice burns your tongue. “Obviously not. Your mom is in there and she still scares me.”

He laughs but doesn’t question it. He doesn’t need to. Dean may have dealt with you on the long drive and whenever he was in town but Sam deals with you every day. He has been privy to almost every one of your breakdowns in the last month. June felt longer than thirty days.

Sam sits down next to you and starts watching the news channel you’d been ignoring. It takes a minute but eventually, he grabs the remote to pause the screen, “ah, there’s my favorite celebrity lawyer.”

You don't need to look up to know that you are on the TV.

“I won’t be anyone’s lawyer if I don’t figure out why my client insists on lying to me and getting people to lie on his behalf.” Your fingers get dangerously close to pounding the plastic keyboard into smithereens. “Hasn’t he heard of attorney-client privilege?”

“Okay. I think you need a little break from that.” He says prying the laptop from you and closing it on the coffee table, so you can’t see the screen anymore.

You want to be mad at him but, of course, you can’t. You look up at him and his soft smile that’s all kinds of sympathetic to the workload you’ve been bearing of late. If you weren’t being driven insane by the biggest case of your career then maybe you’d be a little more rational when it came to this weekend.

Although, that’s unlikely. You were always going to go crazy about this particular get together.

“I swear sometimes I think he’s actually stupid. I’m trying to help him. Why did he even think he could escape arrest in the third most populated city in America?” You shuffle yourself so that you’re sitting sideways and facing him. Despite your insults about your client, the question is earnest.

“Probably figured it’s the only way he’d get to hire you.”

You roll your eyes, “sure, that’s why I’m co-counsel to fucking New York’s finest Marcus Delaney, who he trusts like a fucking brother.”

Sam widens his eyes at you in warning but you catch on too late; his mother is in the next room. You both hold your breath waiting for a reaction. When nothing happens you relax and he answers the least important part of your statement, “technically you’re a New York native too.”

“Objection, relevance?”

“Well, you mentioned…”

“Nah-uh. Enough about me. You took my laptop away so now we have to talk about you.” You smirk into your cup.

Sam knows where this is going. He told you his news two entire weeks ago, it worked like a charm and was also the biggest mistake of his life. Because two weeks ago Sam invited you to his office for lunch and told you over takeout that he was getting married.

He wanted to tell you because you’re his best friend. He’d told you before Dean and sworn you to secrecy until he’d called his brother later that day. Both of you knew the news was coming anyway, so it wasn’t really a race. Sam had been wringing his hands over how to ask the love of his life for weeks before he did it. You only found out about the ‘yes’ before Dean, because Sam had been trying to calm you down after another ‘4th of July freak-out’.

Sam had forgotten what happens if a seven-year-old gets their hands on too much sugar. Or, to be more precise, what happens when he gives a big, juicy, sensitive piece of information to you. Now he can't get you to shut up about it.

He sighs. He’s still facing the TV even though your eyes are on him. “I should have let you keep working, shouldn’t I?”

“Too late for that, Sammy. Have you decided when you’re telling everyone yet?”

He shifts to side-eye you, “oh, yeah. I was thinking, how about never?”

“You can’t bring your devoted fiance home for the weekend and not tell them!” You’re keeping your voice low but it’s insistent all the same.

“Ok. What about at the airport?”

“We’re dropping you back to the airport.”

“Right, before that then.”

You laugh, “why did you even come this weekend if you’re going to chicken out?”

“I’m not going to chicken out but, would it be so bad if I did? I brought you last year to avoid my Mom's crazy and now… I mean this will be like Defcon two.”

You wonder, briefly, what triggers Defcon one. Considering how quickly Mary had asked you if you were pregnant last year, you’d wager it’d be grandchildren.

In the pause where you both sip your morning caffeine again, neither of you notice the slight creak. The kind of creak where a door begins to open but never does.

“All I’m saying is, getting married is an amazing thing. It’s time to share the happy news. Hell, I’ll go wake Dean and we can do it now.”

“That’s easily the worst idea you’ve ever had. And I’m including the outfit you wore to the first office Christmas party.”

He’s walking right into your trap. “I dusted that number off for your brother over Christmas, you know.”

“Oh god. I don’t need to know about you and-and him-and a sexy Santa's helper costume.” He actually gets up, sweeps his mug with him, and sours his face.

“You brought it up, Sammy!” You're grinning all wide and evil, calling after him.

He pauses with his back leaning against the kitchen door, at the same time that Eileen walks in. “I hate you.”

You look up at her and sigh, “you see the way he talks to me when you’re not around?”

This is not the first time Eileen has been caught in the middle of you two, so she laughs and promises, “I’ll talk to him about that.”

Sometimes Dean likes to yank your chain and sometimes you like to yank his. It’s what makes you kind of perfect for each other, any bruised egos or pouting lips are part of the game you play. An excellent example is the way he’d betrayed you already this weekend. You weren’t mad, well, maybe a little, but in the end, you forgave him because it’s him.

In all the jokes there’s one thing that Dean knows not to play around with, one thing that he wouldn’t dare mess with.

Winchester. Family. Baseball.

You had agreed to wear his dumb spare jersey the same as you’d done for Sam. Like Eileen was doing for Sam this year. Although you had to admit her shorts are a little more family-friendly.

You’d even made a sign. A big piece of poster board, some markers, glitter, and stickers that you had gone to Target to buy special. It said GO TEAM DEAN! With a heart to dot the exclamation point. The sign was a surprise. When you’d shown him before leaving for the game he’d called you a dork and smiled so wide you worried his face might break.

You were ready for the game because you were safe. The worst thing that you expect is the comments when you turn up with a ‘1’ on your shirt this year instead of a ‘2’. You’ve already dealt with this from Mary and John but you weren’t so blind to forget about the rest of the family.

Charlie laughs at you when she notices, straight away, and threateningly asks for the story later. Bobby simply says, “switched teams, huh?” Before walking off. Granted he doesn’t seem to judge you, merely stating the observation like an interesting factoid. And Gabe starts, “lookie here when do I-” but smartly stops. He’s too tongue in cheek to be offensive but the look on Deans’ face might have something to do with his change of heart.

All of that you could handle. Par for the course. You had been ready for it because—can’t stress this enough—you were safe. Today was going to be a fun day of cheering on your boyfriend at his weird family baseball game.

You’re so sure of yourself that you even helped Mary pack drinks and snacks, with Eileen as a buffer, because you knew you’d get to enjoy said food. As a spectator.

When John does his ‘gather round me for I am John Winchester’ bit to pick the teams you’re choosing your spot in the stands. A little area in the front row for you, Mary and Eileen where you’re putting the food. You don’t join said gathering because that’s how not relevant it was to your life. You’d find out the teams when they’re playing and you’re only fifteen feet away from them all. You can hear them barking out names fine.

Dean picks Micheal. Sam makes a comment like ‘big surprise’. Bickering ensues until John gets them to focus up.

You could write this stuff in your sleep. You don’t want to call them predictable, considering this was only your second year here, but sometimes the truth is right there in front of you. And the truth is Winchester family baseball is going exactly how you expect.

Actually it’s the one thing that is going how you expect this weekend. Frankly, you needed that, some stability. Something you could rely on.

“Y/N”

Time slows down. In your head, you can hear that siren noise from Kill Bill and the world is suddenly devoid of color, except one. A red light flashes over your vision, as you turn in comically slow motion to find out which one of those idiots betrayed you.

Dean. Of course. The goddamn one you’re in love with.

He has the absolute gall to wave at you from where he’s standing. Smiling like, well, like it’s Fourth of July weekend and he innocently picked his girlfriend to play a game with him. That’s what it must look like to his family anyway.

To you? You feel like Lady Macbeth. Disappointed and betrayed by your significant other who can't do his one job. You’re not even asking him to kill the King of Scotland, all he had to do was not say your name.

Before you have an opportunity to write yourself out of this tragedy, he’s waving you over and your legs start walking. Apparently your body listens to him more than it listens to your own brain. Was nothing sacred anymore?

“There’s my girl.”

Those words would normally make you weak at the knees. Unfortunately for Dean, when it comes to baseball, you’re not melting that easy.

When you reach him you smile until you’re close enough to mutter dangerously, “I’m going to make you disappear and it'll look like an accident.”

You notice people dispersing which means your amazing boyfriend waited to call you till last. Not only did he screw you over but he made you the embarrassing last pick.

He leans in to kiss you and breathes against you, “you know you love playing with me.”

God, you do. You love playing with this dick, who apparently hates you, as well as his dick. Not baseball granted but other games.

“‘Sides,” he continues in your silence, “you don’t want to let all that practice go to waste.”

“All that practice? Practice?” You pull your head back, unable to resist showing him how offended you are, “you mean the time you forced me to go to the batting cages?”

He crosses his hands at your back and pulls you to him until your thighs are pressed against his. Were it not for his jeans then it would be incredibly inappropriate for a family baseball game. Actually, with the jeans, it might still be inappropriate.

“I seem to remember someone enjoying my arms wrapped around her while I taught her how to hit. I also seem to remember that someone forgot all about me in a damn second once she could do it on her own.”

“It was very stress relieving, I kept pretending the ball was the dummy who took me to the batting cages.”

A laugh rumbles through him, his body is so close to yours that you feel it in your stomach.

“Come on, this will be fun. You need more fun.”

You poke a finger into his chest, an inch above the collar of his jersey, “don't pretend you're doing me a favor. if I remember the rules, I don’t have a choice. But don’t you worry, I won’t forget this.”

He grins in that ‘brighter than the sun’ Dean way, “I know baby. I know.”

You’d made it home four times, an impressive three more than last year. None of them were from hitting a home run or anything preposterous. You do hit the ball almost every time though. You still couldn’t catch, throw or run--all three skills are apparently super essential in baseball. You can connect the bat with the ball though. Everyone seems pretty impressed every time it happens, if only they knew how impressed you were every time you manage it.

Your lack of skills aside, when Dean wins, he leans you over his arm and kisses you rightly. As if it’s V-J day and he single-handedly stopped WWII. Eileen sneaks up on Sam, from where she’d been watching in the stands. Although your ASL is not perfect, you’re at least 80% sure that her hand's sign “sucks to be you,” as she walks to him. You might love her a little more than you did ten minutes ago and Sam laughs a little harder too.

Dean chooses a steakhouse. The place is all wood paneling and soft lighting. The ambiance reminds you of your first real date in Chicago, although there will probably be less sticky fingers. From the ribs, obviously.

Mary and John drive ahead and they’re waiting outside when you all arrive. You’ve told Eileen to be prepared, told her to have her wits about her, promised her you’ll jump in if necessary. She’d told you not to worry.

Oh, you hate to see it happen.

As soon as you’re inside you volunteer to sit next to John, it’s the smallest kindness you can do for your friend. She should sit between the safety of Sam and Dean for what is to come.

It starts as you expect and it’s strange being on the other side of the interrogation. Nobody gives a flying crap about what drink or food you order but Eileen? She gets the same treatment you had last year. Silence and an entire table waiting to hear what she has to say. She’s the shiny, new thing everyone is interested in. You’re both glad and sorry. Glad the heat is taken off of you and sorry that it’s Eileen bearing the brunt of it.

Although—and it’s not your imagination—they are a hell of a lot easier on her than John had been on you. It presumably helps that Eileen is a Librarian. Her stories are all child reading groups and teaching elderly people how to use email in the computer room. Even you find yourself a bit smitten and you already knew her.

You’re trying not to focus on her too much though. Let her charm Mary and John, she doesn’t need another face watching her while she talks. Instead, you concentrate on your appetizer, one of those deep-fried onion things you’re sharing with Dean. The unspoken agreement is if you eat smelly food then you do it together.

He shakes his head, making eye contact with you as he takes a particularly over the top bite, when you’re pulled back into the main conversation.

“Y/N, where did you spend Christmas last year?”

“I’m sorry?” You ask somewhat dazed by being called on so soon.

Mary smiles kindly, “Eileen mentioned her parent's cabin, which I know is where they spent Christmas. I realized I had no idea where you spent the holidays?”

“Sure. I-erm, I stayed in Chicago.” Dean's hand under the table surprises you when you feel the weight of him on your knee.

“Oh, funnily enough, I remember Dean saying he was in Chicago too and I thought to myself how strange that was with Sam being gone.”

Everyone laughs at her joke, even your boyfriend while he moves his hand up your thigh.

“Didn’t want to head to New York and see your parents?” She continues her line of inquiry.

You have no idea where she’s going with it, why you’re the one in the hot seat, or why Dean is driving you crazy with his thumb rubbing those incessant circles in your skin. You answer anyway.

“N-No. They go to Europe every other Christmas so they’ll be home this year.”

Mary takes a bite of whatever-the-hell is on her plate. “The boys are coming to us this year too, I guess we’ll have to get better about syncing these things up, huh?”

His hand alone wouldn’t normally drive you as crazy as it is right now. He’s only tapping a slow, teasing rhythm into your thigh for crying out loud. But it’s been a few days and before that a few weeks, and you’d been resolved to not sully this wholesome family weekend. So, your breath is just a touch shorter than normal when he squeezes, and you can only hide it by talking.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess we will.” You agree easily.

“I’m looking forward to meeting your parents, yours too Eileen. Do you think we’ll be meeting yours before Christmas Y/N? Any other big events coming up?”

Were you not focusing on the heat of his hand under your skirt then you might be suspicious of the way she asks that. As it is Dean chooses then to wink at you because he thinks it's hilarious how preoccupied you are.

“Erm, Thanksgiving?”

“Right, right. Thanksgiving.” She smirks like she has a secret.

You stand up suddenly, needing to get away from your teasing boyfriend, “sorry. I’m going to go use the restroom.”

“Hurry back.” Dean’s mocking tone follows you.

Were his parents not at the table you'd tell him to go to hell.

Saturday morning comes faster than you expected. You did have a jump on the long weekend because you’d all taken a day off work this year but Saturday still seemed to have jumped from a cupboard to surprise you.

You wake up as you often do when you share Dean’s bed. One of you, today it’s him, has the other one, you, in what can only be described as an inescapable hold. He’s got one arm wrapped around you, fingers hanging loose over your stomach where you’re laying on your side. His other arm is encroaching on your pillow to surround you and his head is curled in your neck. His breath is slow and hot over your skin. You never imagined that you’d enjoy waking up like this, so incredibly close to someone. And then you met Dean. Sometimes you wrap him up in your sleep, your fingers in his hair, and one leg thrown over his. Either way one always claims the other and you wouldn’t want anything different.

Except at this very second.

Dean is a light sleeper. A bit of a contradictory trait for someone who likes to sleep as much as he does—yours is not to question why—but you never want to willingly wake him if you can avoid it. You’re more than happy to let sleeping Dean’s lie. When you don’t need the bathroom that is.

Even though this isn’t your first time trying you still give it your best shot to slip out without disturbing him.

You think you’re getting there. You’ve managed to roll onto your back for an easier way out, his face is now smashed into his pillow instead of your back, you’ve slipped down the bed a little to get away from his hand on your pillow. It’s only that arm across you that you need to get free from. Today is the day that you’ll finally manage to pee without waking him up. The trick, you think, is not to touch him. You’ve been burned before by trying to lift his arm off of you when you only need to slip out from under it.

“Come on, five more minutes.” He mumbles, fingers come to life to hold you tighter and you swear you see his lip curl because you’ve failed to sneak away again.

“I need to pee.” Who says romance is dead?

He huffs, you’ve hit on what he deems an acceptable reason to let go of you. Barely.

Not that he eases up. You have to wiggle from his hold which makes you crack your first smile of the day. Despite your need to hurry you bend over him and press a kiss to his cheek. “How about I get some coffee while I’m up, see if I can get you to forgive me?”

“You can try.” He mutters in his half-sleep state.

The house is quiet when you leave the bathroom, ridiculously quiet for how full of people it will be later. The calm tricks you into feeling invincible, where nobody else exists save for you and the man you left in bed.

“Morning Y/N.” Mary is sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee, and not doing much else.

“Oh my god!” You recoil with your whole body, arms bent into your chest like you’re trying to stave off a heart attack. You can be a little dramatic at times but the way she’s sitting in silence, illuminated only by the early morning light from the backyard, almost gives the illusion of her appearing out of thin air. “Sorry, Mary. I must be easy to scare first thing in the morning.”

A slow smile spreads over her face, “no I’m sorry, didn��t mean to scare you. I like a few minutes of peace before the boys are up is all.”

You grab two mugs, a pretty clear indication you plan to take coffee back to Dean, but before you can fill both she makes you an offer you can’t refuse. “You and I both know he is already back to sleep, he’ll keep for a few minutes. Sit with me.”

Dean's empty mug, your excuse to leave, gets left on the counter with most of your hopes and dreams. The only thing you try to cling to is that Mary wants to carry on sitting in silence, only, together.

“Y/N, we haven’t had a chance to talk, just you and me. Not since last year.”

Or maybe, just maybe, she’d been waiting for you all along.

“I guess we haven’t. I-eh, I really did mean what I said when I got here Mary. I’m sorry about everything.”

“I’m not trying to rake you over the coals here, and I’m not looking for another apology. I know what my sons think of me, Sam thinks I’m crazy. You were being a good friend.” She shrugs like it's that simple.

It’s kind of ridiculous how quickly you relax, and how quickly you start spilling your guts, “The lying though. I don’t feel good about that.”

Mary is quick. She leans over the table and wraps her hand around yours, “I don’t remember that much lying. I could tell you loved Sam last year and if that’s like a brother, I’m still glad he has you.”

She’s right. You do love Sam like a brother, the one you never had. He’s been more your family than your own. The first family you’d chose and only real family you had, which is why you’d been so scared at first. It’s why you’d been so quick to run from Dean at the risk of losing Sam. Hell, sometimes you wonder if it’s one of the many reasons you love Dean—because he’s the only other person on the planet who loves Sam as much as you do.

Your fingers twitch under her hand, unsure of the loving way she holds you. Unsure if you deserve it or why she offers it so easily. Whatever the answer is, she has your guard down.

“What about Dean?” It’s a loaded question. You need someone else to see what’s there before you can admit it to him. You're looking for confidence because you are unsure of his feelings. Who better to judge than his own mother?

She squeezes enough to tell you that you’re looking down at your coffee instead of looking at her, before she pulls back to lift her mug to her lips again. “That’s obvious Y/N.” She almost sounds bored at such an easy question, ”I knew I was right all along.”

"Right about what?”

Not even a pause. If she was indeed waiting for you this morning then she was waiting for you to ask this question.

“That you are going to be a Winchester someday.”

“No-I, no…” You trail off to nothing and it’s not because of the way Mary is still grinning despite your protests. It’s not her raised eyebrows over the rim of her cup. It’s not even the little hum like noise she lets out in affirmation that yes, you would wear the big 'W' as your last name.

It’s that you can see it. You’ve had a year of long-distance with Dean; scheduled weekends and facetime dates. You’ve been itching to tell him how you feel but terrified of scaring him away, scared of moving too quickly with the guy you don’t see enough, scared he doesn’t feel the same. And yet in the back of your mind, the vision is forming, pushing its way to the front without permission. Dean on one knee. You in a white dress. The moment you both say ‘I do’.

Is this what becoming a hopeless romantic feels like? Or were you always this much of a total sap?

“Don’t worry, I know.” She reiterates again.

Mary has a reputation, she’s pushy enough, so you assume that’s what this is. You assume she’s making a premonition, not looking for confirmation of something she thinks she already knows. So, you look to escape what you think is the awkwardness that you can’t answer.

“I’m going to get Dean his coffee or-or we’ll never get him out of bed.”

She nods you to leave but disagrees with your evaluation, “I think you underestimate how much my son loves fireworks.”

You smile wide, remembering how his face lit up in the dark the year before, “You’re right. Still, I should go get him up.”

Then you pour more coffee, including Deans, and run. If anyone else caught wind of this conversation they would never believe you were a defense lawyer, let alone the lawyer who’s been plastered over the news defending a celebrity on a murder case.

Dean has, predictably, gone back to sleep since you left. Although the light sleeper that he is, he is roused by the door opening and the smell of coffee.

“Baby?”

That’s all it takes to make you forget the conversation with Mary ever happened. You can’t help but laugh at his sleepy voice as you slip in next to him, careful not to spill anything while he fidgets awake, “who else would wake you up like this?”

He rubs at his eyes, “oh, y’know, my other girlfriend.”

“You’ll have to introduce us one day, we can compare notes.”

You’re still not used to the Winchester’s if you’re being completely honest. To you, barbecue has always been a type of food, and not necessarily one your parents approved of. It was never a place, a home. That’s what today is. Saturday afternoon and the sun is high, there's a faint twang of country music coming from somewhere. Not loud enough to hear the lyrics but loud enough to identify the genre, loud enough to wish you were wearing a cowboy hat. Everyone has a beer or a burger, or both. And it’s not all dopey eyed niceties. There are teenagers, Claire and Alex, hating everyone from the other end of the yard. Occasionally there’s a “screw you” or a “you idjit” shouted from the many random conversations happening. But it’s still somehow perfect in the imperfections. It’s cozy and homely. It’s a family. Love.

It would be easy to feel overwhelmed and convince yourself that you don’t belong. It’s lucky that you have your boyfriend. And since he has disappeared on you, Sam and Eileen. Although she is doing a much better job than you at fitting in.

“She’s going to make me look bad,” you tell Sam while you both watch Eileen animatedly tell Uncle Bobby something that makes him howl. Even his stoic expressions are hidden behind his beard but Eileen is a stand-up comedian, apparently

“That’s not hard is it?” He teases.

“That might hurt if you hadn’t picked me to bring last year, to protect her from all this.” You use the neck of your bottle to draw a circle in the air around the whole motley crew of his family.

Before you register his movement he has an arm around your shoulders, you’re expecting a headlock so you’re pleasantly surprised when he pulls you into a side hug. “That’s the first time you’ve joked about it since… since last year. I’m glad. Everyone else is over it, you’re the only one hanging on Y/N/N.”

You don’t want to choke up in the middle of their backyard but sometimes Sam’s big brother moments hit you like that. “I never said I was very good at letting things go.”

He huffs. “You’re too tough sometimes. That’s why I picked you to help me.” He sucks in a slow breath, “you have to get out of your head... and maybe stop being so annoying.”

You shove him back so he can’t lean on you but now you’re out of his hold he’s looking down at you with those damn puppy dog eyes. He hasn’t asked for something which means he’s trying to use them to make you feel better. You hadn’t realized you’d needed to feel better, was your face sad enough to warrant a Sam pep talk

“I’m fine,” you wave away his concern. “Have you decided yet?”

“And there I was hoping you’d forget.”

“Is Eileen happy to let you forget?” You counter him with an expectant look. “She wants to tell them but she’s happy to let me make the decision since it’s my family.” He says in a pointed, not pointed way.

You shake your head, “she’s going too easy on you. Good thing you have me to put you in line.”

“I thought I was the line?” It takes you a beat, you’re actually surprised he remembered you saying that to John.

“No, that was what I had to say when I was being paid to make you look good.” His face turns somber, “I never paid you.”

“Tomayto, tomahto Sammy.” You finish the beer in your hand, “you know I’m not pushing you, right? If you don’t do it, there’s always Christmas, or send a save the date.”

He shoves at you this time and the air returns to its normal lightness. “I know. You only want me to put on my big boy pants.”

“I could care less about your pants. I want you to take the heat off me, obviously.” You hold up your bottle to him, “I’m out. You need another one?”

He chuckles, ducks his head, and looks at his fiance again. “Yeah, dutch courage might help.”

“Dare to dream.” You sympathize, patting him on his shoulder.

Sam might tell them today, he might not. You wouldn’t judge him either way. He knows you aren’t judging him. You’re nudging him, not so gently. You’re being for him what he is for you. A good friend. Sam has a tendency to drag his heels sometimes and his relationship with Eileen is one of the few things you’ve seen him jump into wholeheartedly. He is, after all, engaged in under a year. You’re beyond pleased because you’ve never seen him so happy, all you want is for Sam’s family to enjoy seeing that too. If you elbow him in the right direction it’s only because you know he’ll regret it down the road.

Besides, it’s not like Mary can scare Eileen away. She already said yes.

So, Dutch courage it is. You don’t condone drinking to excess in front of his parents but a few more beers wouldn’t hurt. They’d only loosen his lips.

The cooler is by the door to the kitchen, for easy refills whether that’s ice or beer. It’s out of the way. Most people stay close to the grill or their seat if they have managed to command one.

You assume your trip will be short and sweet. There’s no one else standing by the plastic box, which means no awkward cooler small talk to get trapped in. It’s half-empty but there are enough bottles that you won’t have to top it up even taking one for you and Sam. Then you stand up with a bottle in each hand, about to turn tail when at the edge of your peripheral you register Dean and Mary in the kitchen.

The window to the kitchen is wide and open and you should walk away. You almost walk away. Then Mary speaks and you can hear them so clearly that you have no choice. You duck down and sit precariously on top of the cooler.

“I know I’m not supposed to rush you but Dean, honey, I can’t stand it any longer. When are you going to announce it? I’m dying!”

Your interest is piqued. Unfortunately. It’s wrong, completely and utterly. Dean should be allowed his secrets whatever they are. Still, it’s not your fault that he chose to have this conversation, with his mother, in the kitchen. Where anyone could walk in or overhear them.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Although to be fair Dean doesn’t sound like a willing participant in this conversation, so maybe he doesn’t have a secret you have to worry about.

You don’t dare get up and peak through the glass since they sound quite close, but you hear Mary sigh.

“I heard her talking to Sam about it. How she wants to tell everyone and-and if it was up to her she’d have told us all already.”

The sound of the fridge opening and closing before he answers. “Still not following, Mom?”

“The proposal Dean. You asked her to marry you. She all but admitted it to me this morning and I’m so, so happy for you. I did think you’d talk to me first but… When am I getting my big announcement so we can celebrate?”

You suck in a breath and hope that it didn’t make a sound. If you can hear them it stands to reason they might hear you. Neither of them seems to. Or they’re distracted. Dean is silent for a too long beat, Mary is clearly confused, and she’s thrown you under the bus along with her, for good measure.

“You’ve got it all wrong. I don’t know what you think you heard…”

A pit forms in the bottom of your stomach at his tone, how against the idea he sounds. It’s fine, you try convincing yourself, he’s defending Sam’s secret.

“Don’t lie to me, Dean. I know you and your brother think I’m nuts but I want you both to be happy. That's all.”

There’s a part of you that knows you should stop this. Come to Dean's rescue and clarify. You could fix this in thirty seconds or less. That’s what you would do if you weren’t stuck like your feet are made of cement.

“You've gotta cool it with that, ok? Y/N is just a girl I’m dating, that’s it, and I don’t want her getting the wrong idea. You breathing down her neck won’t help anything.”

You have to remind yourself that you’d wanted to know his secret. But maybe you’d only wanted to know because you hoped, assumed, that he felt the same as you.

You’d never actually expected a proposal. Not for years. You’d have been happy with not getting one ever as long as you got Dean. He was your prize, not some ring. But his tone says you don’t have him in any way that you want, you’re just a girl he’s dating. Just a date. He didn’t even say girlfriend. He didn’t even say he likes you.

“Oh, well. I’m sorry. I must have had my wires crossed. I’ll leave it alone.” Mary sounds deflated and disappointed. About a tenth of the hurt you’re spiraling into.

She also sounds like her footsteps are getting closer.

You need to move this time. Because the only thing worse than hearing this conversation is one of them knowing you’d heard this conversation.

The beers get left on the decking next to the cooler you’re still balancing your weight on. You stay low, curled over, as you take long steps along the side of the house. Your immediate plan is to get out of the way while Mary re-enters the backyard but it’s a mere thirty seconds before Dean comes striding out after her. He looks around, maybe for you, maybe for anyone else, it doesn’t really seem like it matters.

You’ve been worrying if Dean loves you, if you would scare him off by telling him you do. You’d never considered that he’s not anywhere close to that. He might never be.

Your mistake had been to immediately take solace in his room. It’s so his. It smells like him, every single thing reminds you of him. It’s the inanimate object version of going to cry in his arms.

It only made everything so much worse.

Though Dean’s room doesn’t contain a small library like Sam’s, there’s still a desk and a padded desk chair. The desk is covered in random things; a picture of him and Sam while Sam graduates Stanford, some sunglasses and amongst other things a small model car. A model of the impala that you’d toyed with while you were sneaking in some emails last night. He’d told you his dad gave it to him as a kid because his obsession with the car had begun early. However currently the chair is not where it is supposed to be. It’s wedged under his door handle because neither brother has a lock on their door.

You’ve spread out since you’ve been here. Your laptop is in the only free spot on his desk, your case is open on the floor where you’ve been living from it for two days now. Not to mention your things everywhere, a mascara here, or a lipstick there. At home, you only manage to stay any semblance of tidy because everything has its place but this is Dean’s space. It’s not even his, it’s his teenage space, somewhere he outgrew but visits every once in a while. Not even he completely fits in here anymore.

The point is you clearly don’t belong. Not even an inch. Dean liked you but that was it. As painful as it is to admit that’s not enough anymore. You’ve outgrown dates and sex, well, you’ve outgrown only having those things. For the first time in your life, you want the next step and Dean doesn’t. That’s the risk you take when you care about someone, getting hurt is always a possibility.

The only problem is you promised yourself no more pretending. Last year was enough for a lifetime. So, you can’t skip back downstairs and pretend you hadn’t heard what you did. You can’t sit next to him and watch fireworks and not be heartbroken.

“Y/N? Sweetheart?” There’s a knock at the door that spooks the makeup you’d been collecting out of your hands. You don’t answer him instead, you scramble for the things you’ve dropped and scoop them up faster.

He twists the doorknob and you carry on your task because the chair will protect you.

Then the door starts moving. You expect to hear resistance after a second but the room is filled with the squeak of plastic wheels.

You’d forgotten that the damn chair is on wheels.

The makeup is dropped again, spilling out over the floor once more as you fall to your ass and slide across the carpet. You’d never managed anything close to a slide in baseball, never ever needed to learn one. Now you perfect it in all of two feet. Your feet plant either side of the chair and your hands wrap around the seat pushing it back until the door closes again. This was a mistake, the chair is only making it harder to push back, you should have moved it and shoved yourself against the door, it’s just too late for a redo.

“Hey, hey. Open the door.” It’s hard to tell if he’s angry, he mostly sounds urgent.

Your heart is pounding out of your chest, still, it’s impossible to find the words to answer him. You don’t want to say something you’ll regret, or can’t take back, even if you’re hurt. In your silence, he keeps pushing, literally and figuratively.

He twists the handle again but this time there’s a little weight on his side. The weight pushes against the chair and by extension you. It’s not his full weight, he’s bigger than you though so even his half weight is starting to force you backward. You scramble to gain some traction, planting your feet better, shoving some more. The carpet gives you some friction but not enough to help against the force of Dean Winchester. You keep moving.

After a minute things are about a hundred miles south of ridiculous. You love ridiculous, when you’re not trying to run away that is.

Dean is one foot in the room, thick fingers wrapped around the door and his head pushed in looking at you. There’s a confused knot in his forehead while he takes in exactly what he’s forced his way to look at.

You straddling the bottom part of his desk chair, shoved against the door, and looking up at him wildly.

“Really, sweetheart?” He asks with a mix of frustration in his eyes and a curl on his lips, “what the hell?”

That’s enough to snap you out of it and jump up from the floor. Your hands smooth over the wrinkles in your jeans as if nothing happened. “Hi, Dean. Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

You may be hurting, sure, but if your parents taught you anything it’s how to cover any emotion with pragmatic denial.

He steps all the way into the room now without you in the way. “Someone else? Comin’ into my room, looking for you?”

“Could have been anyone,” you shrug. Careful to keep your voice steady and neutral while you go back to collecting your twice dropped makeup from the floor. “Wouldn’t want any of your cousins to wander in here.”

“Right. Because they’re leaving the yard while there’s food on the grill, come on it’s like-”

“I heard what you said to your Mom.” The last thing you wanted to say makes it to the tip of your tongue anyway, as you dispense the collected make up into your case like a dump truck.

He parts those lips of his, which means he’s worried about something and then he smiles. He smiles at you while you’re doing everything not to cry.

There’s a quiver in your voice despite yourself, “it’s fine I get it. I wish you’d told me yourself but I can’t do anything about that. And I know I shouldn’t have been listening in and I’m sorry. Can you give me a few minutes to get sorted please?”

Dean cocks his head, takes a step closer to you, and then stops when you grimace, “what?”

“You said you-that we-I’m not expecting anything but I thought I was more than ‘just another girl’ you’re dating.” You shake your head, trying to stop those tears now you’ve said it out loud. Feeling your vision blur and wobble anyway. “Like I said it’s fine. I’m getting out of here though. I found a flight home, there’s no point in you driving me home eleven hours when it’s four to St Louis.”

Not to mention the fact that you couldn’t stand to sit in the car with him that long while you’re feeling like this.

“Woah, Woah, Woah baby.” He doesn’t pause this time. He doesn’t care about your frown as he approaches you, he’s more concerned about fixing whatever you have gotten in your head. He’s on you in an instant. One warm hand on your shoulders and one at your chin, lifting your face to his and taking in all your sadness. You hate that he’s making you stare into his eyes like this. Those green, soulful eyes had been one of the first things you noticed on his beautiful dumb face and now this feels like a goodbye. Of course, it's not a goodbye. He’s trying to tell you just by looking at you that you’re a goddamn idiot. “Have you met my mom? Remember when she asked if you were pregnant when you’d been dating Sam like a month?”

“Fake dating. Why does everyone forget I was fake dating him?”

He chuckles, “‘course. Faking. Well, you heard her, right? She thinks we’re the ones getting hitched. Imagine if I’d thrown fuel on the fire and told her that you’re my girl, I love you and that you’re it for me.”

There’s a big, huge lump in your throat stopping you breathing. Too gigantic to swallow down. Tears still want to rain over your face, again, but you refuse to be the girl that cries because her boyfriend, who she loves, finally told her what she’s been waiting to hear.

Wait, you need to say something back.

“I love you too.”

His smile is slow and lazy but it’s perfectly timed with how gently his body leans in to kiss you. His shoulders drop while you’re sighing into his mouth like every romantic comedy heroine. His hands still on your shoulders relax their hold a little and you realize, he might have been doubting how you felt too.

“That’s good to know.” He breathes. “But see if I’d have told my mom all that, with the whole family here, she’d have us shotgun married before I got the chance to actually ask you.”

Your eyes widen, “no. You’re not?”

“Nah, planning on knocking those socks off when I do. Fair warning though, that’s coming.”

A strangled laugh comes out of you because you are, and have always been, the stupidest person alive. Dean loves you. He loves you and you love him. And why have you waited so long to say it?

“Move in with me?” It seems like the next best thing to every sweet thing he just said. It’s not enough but for once you’re happy to be second best in a conversation. You’ve been thinking about it long enough, hating the distance and the weekends you’ve spent apart. It’s so obvious that you should have worked it out months ago.

“What?” He gives you the pleasure of seeing his goofy confused face while your finger traces the curve of his bottom lip. In case you ever forget.

“Move in with me. Move to Chicago to be with me. Benny can manage in St. Louis and you can open a second location... or be chief of police or a fireman or just eat deep dish all the day long, whatever you want. Be with me in Chicago? Everyday? Sam’s there too. How can you be his best man from three hundred miles away?”

Another kiss and a bigger grin that comes from his chest, not even you expected it to be this easy. Which is more of that stupidity because with Dean it’s always easy. You can only imagine how rosy your cheeks are as he answers, “you had me at pizza.”

You get to the foot of the stairs when Sam pops out of the living room. You’ve schooled your beaming grin into something more subdued because you don’t want to draw focus but Sam’s probably still just waiting for his beer. He tilts his head down and asks, “you good?”

Before you can tell him that you have never been better, Dean saunters down the steps behind you without any concern for drawing attention. “Sammy, how many times have I told you, you can’t have her back. She’s mine now.”

Sam purses his lips at his brother, which is still funny to you, and you press a hand to his chest to distract him from their brother games. “We’re all good Sam, I’ll fill you in later. The important thing is are you ready to go? Weekend is nearly over.”

He smiles at you, “couldn’t do it without my legal eagle.”

Finally, he gets it. “Legal eagles for life, Sam.”

“You two are a pair of dorks.” Dean slumps an arm over both of your shoulders, “I can’t believe I love a dork even dorkier than my dork brother.”

If Sam notices any difference or the massive L-word Dean dropped, he keeps his reaction in check. Besides he’s engrossed in something else, he kind of has something huge to announce to his whole family right now. Something you’ve been dying to witness since he told you.

You turn in Dean’s arm to threaten him, “he can still drop you and make me best man, you know that, right?”

Dean feigns anger, “he would never.”

“Keep talking pretty boy and see how fast I’m planning the bachelor party.”

“She thinks I’m pretty.” Dean turns his head to smile at Sam and involve him in your sparring match, you know since best man is his decision, but Sam is now bitch facing the pair of you.

He doesn’t say anything, just swings an arm out towards the kitchen and beyond that the backyard. An annoyed invitation to join him and his fiance for the big moment you’ve all been waiting for.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on De. Let’s go let Sammy-boo and Leney-bear be as disgusting as we are.”

You’re already in the kitchen when Sam shouts after you, “I told you not to call us that!”

“Eileen said she didn’t mind!”

Weirdly, the party in the backyard is exactly how you left it and yet you feel like everything changed, for the better, in the last twenty minutes.

Eileen sees all three of you step out of the house and senses that its time. Or Sam had already told her it was before he went looking for you. Either way, she walks over to Sam who magically ends up in the middle of the yard.

You can feel the excitement buzzing from Dean where he’s standing next to you, you bet he’s feeling that from you too.

“Hey everyone, I kind of have an announcement,” Sam calls out.

Most of them look around but nobody moves and he hasn’t captured everyone's attention in the way John does at the baseball game. For some reason that line from Highlander pops into your head, there can only be one. It’s a concerted effort not to snort at your own joke.

John is, however, one of the people that heard Sam so he hollers, “cut it out, Sammy’s got something to say.”

That’ll do it. The music shuts off and everyone gathers in a circle around Sam and Eileen. You notice then that Eileen’s ring has appeared back on her finger. You know she had it on a necklace until this announcement but the sleight of hand to make it happen is impressive.

“Thanks, Dad. I’ll keep this short and sweet because I know you’re all waiting on more food but while we had everyone here we thought we should tell you all.”

Somehow, you hear Mary’s heart stop from twenty feet away.

“As most of you know Eileen and I met just over a year ago,” a few people who haven't been briefed share looks since he’d been ‘dating’ you last year. “And well, I’ve never been happier or more in love with someone in my life. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted and a few weeks ago I got my act together and asked her to marry me.”

Eileen holds up her hand then, beaming, ‘and I said yes!”

They had to have rehearsed that on the flight.

Chaos ensues. Everyone claps and cheers and people try to move in to congratulate them. Above all of that Mary screams like she’s being murdered. She rushes forward letting every thought in her head fall out of her mouth, “But I thought Dean and Y/N… so you’re telling me it was you all along? Oh Sammy, sweetie, I am so, so happy for you. Oh god, I’m so proud of you.” She wraps her arms around him and crushes him. “And I’m so happy you’re going to be part of the family!” She lets go of her son to give Eileen the same bruising hug.

“Well done, son.” John claps Sam on the back with, you think, the faintest hint of proud tears in his eyes.

Dean wraps his arm around you then like he'd been unable to do it until everything with Sam was ok. You lean into his chest and whisper only loud enough for him, "he's going to be so excited about you being in the city with us."

"You think?"

"I know it. Granted not as excited as me."

He rests his chin on the top of your head, slotting you into him like a puzzle piece.

In the background, it goes on and on until everyone has said something to the happy couple. Even Bobby gets this choked noise caught in his throat. The whole display is actually very touching.

When they finish the mayhem John proposes a toast in which everyone raises their drinks. Then the drinking and eating continue, with much more vigor than before. The whole thing goes from a Fourth of July celebration to a party. The music is a little more upbeat, the hard liquor is brought out early and the hum of everyone feels excited.

Sam—who has been hugged, pinched and shoved playfully enough to last him till the end of days—wanders over to you and Dean with his fiance in tow. “Are you happy now?” He directs the question at you specifically.

You reach up to grab his face with both hands and jiggle his head while you baby-talk to him, “my little Sammy, I’m so proud of you.”

Dean and Eileen both laugh and it's one of those perfect moments you only expect to see in the movies. You realize then that with these three people around you could actually look forward to the Fourth of July with the Winchesters for years to come.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer

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smol-and-grumpy · 5 years ago

Text

EUPHORIA - Chapter 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, owner of a shady night club. She’s a journalist who has been asked to write an article to expose the indecency and debauchery that’s going on behind closed doors. But he’s also Dean Winchester, the boy who sat next to her in class. The boy who was too cocky for his own good.

Chapter Warning: Feelings? Implied smut, a little.

WC: 3088

A/N: Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

Dean couldn’t sleep that night after meeting her.

He had to leave the club for a short while, because he needed to relieve himself. He even had a debate with himself on doing it at the club but that would have been weird. He always considered himself to be like Jay Gatsby. Organizing pleasures and entertainment for others but never participating himself. It didn’t seem professional to do so, when that's all he wants to come across as. He had built his reputation to be the untouchable club owner, always present but staying in the background, looking out for his employees and guests, and going off on people who didn’t respect his rules.

Thankfully his apartment is situated on the top floor of the building. Above the club are some office spaces that he rented out and on top of that, there’s his loft. So, what Dean did was slip out of his office and take the staircase up to get into his apartment.

He stripped himself off quickly and stepped into the shower. He needed it to cool himself down. His dick was still hard an hour after she left and that’s not normal, is it? He jerked himself off while he had his eyes closed, letting the water rain down on him. Images of her face flickered in front of his closed lids. He saw her bright eyes, her plump lips, and wondered how it would feel to have them wrapped around his cock.

Dean came too soon. He wasn’t even finished with picturing things about her, but he got out of the shower nonetheless, dressed himself back into his suit and went down to his club.

The next night was not really any better either.

He wakes up close to midday, with the realization that there are still no messages from her, nor is there a missed call. The sad thing is, that the ball is in her court now. He offered her to show her around but it’s on her to contact him. He thinks it would seem desperate of him if he would contact her first, wouldn’t it? Yeah, it definitely would. Dean Winchester, owner of a shady club should not contact anyone first. At least that’s what he believes. Maybe because that’s expected of him.

His phone’s in his hand when he drinks his morning coffee, thumb hovering over her contact. Suddenly the phone starts to vibrate and his heart drops to his balls. He’s so jumpy, what the fuck is wrong with him? However, his heart climbs back up when he sees that it’s only Sam.

Sammy asks if he wants to join him at the gym and yeah, maybe that’s not a bad idea. It would take his mind off things. Would take his mind off of her, and he would stop asking himself for a fucking minute, why she hadn’t called or text him.

Dean notices her text during one of their breaks but he figured that he can’t answer now. He needs to think about an answer. Make it sound somewhat intelligent and he needs a clear head without Sammy nagging him who he's texting. He doesn’t want Sammy to find out just yet, so he leaves her on read to finish this sparring session.

He is not really there with his head. Sammy won. Twice. And he’s so fucking cocky about it. Dean’s never going to hear the end of this, he supposes.

It’s two days later that Y/N can bring herself to send him a text.

Y/N: Hey, Dean. Do you have time today to show me around?

She needed time to process alright? It felt pretty surreal and she walked out of that club light headed and more than turned on.

She met the club owner.

She met Dean.

Dean, of all people!

Yeah, right, she admits it. She might have had a crush on him back in her teen days, just a little, but like, she wasn’t the only one? He was that charming bad boy all the girls were talking about. He was known as a gentleman too because he wouldn't kiss and tell. And apparently, his kisses were out of his world if the girls were right, because even if Dean wouldn’t tell, the girls did. She wouldn’t know about his kisses though, because she never got the chance to kiss him. How could she? She was not exactly popular, was probably known as the girl who zoned out into her own little world and they were not wrong about it. She couldn’t blame them.

Seeing Dean was also kind of cool in a way. He looked damn good, aged pretty damn well, unlike old classmates she met during those years. The kiss on her cheek burned until she arrived home and it continued to burn when she took a shower to cool herself down. She might have touched herself too, how could she not. When she closed her eyes, she pictured herself in that VIP room. Imagined someone touching her, someone eating her out, someone whispering dirty promises in her ear and she can’t deny the fact that while she imagined all these things, she had a clear picture of Dean in her head. Which is totally weird, she knows that. He smelled so good when he was so close to her, the smell of him alone made her mind fog up.

Now she’s sitting on her sofa, laptop on her lap, gnawing on her bottom lip and trying to come up with an introduction of her article of the club but she abandons it quickly because she can’t concentrate, not when she just sent him a text and is waiting for him to answer.

Why isn’t he answering?

Is he taking back his promise to show her everything?

He’s probably thinking about a way to talk himself out of it.

Looking at her watch, she realizes that only three minutes had passed since she sent the text. Why is the time ticking so slow today? Surely, she should give him more time. Dean probably has better things to do (haha) than her. He’s most likely busier than she is.

After five minutes, she looks at her message. Maybe she sent it to someone else? Maybe the number is not right? Maybe he gave her a fake fucking number?

Y/N sees that the message has been read.

Ten minutes.

It’s still on read.

He fucking left her on read.

Twenty minutes.

Still on read.

Thirty.

She’s about to give up and go into work. The thing with being a journalist is that she doesn’t always have to be in the office but she has to meet her deadlines. However, the office seems more appealing than sitting here and waiting for a stupid fucking text. Maybe she can go for a jog? Get the frustration out of her system and get her mind off the fact that Dean fucking Winchester left her on read. She doesn’t even know why she’s upset about it. It’s just— ugh.

Dean’s answer comes when she’s out for a jog to clear her head.

D: Hey sweetheart, I wanted to get back to you sooner but had a sparring session with Sammy. Yeah, today sounds good. I’ll be waiting. Come around 7? We open at 8.

Sweetheart.

Oh, she remembers that. He called everyone sweetheart back in the day and the girls gushed over it. Guess old habits die hard, huh?

Y/N leaves him on read, for fucking good measure, and continues her run. Well, she wants to get her mind off it, but now all she can think about is his text. Dean took his time to explain to her why he didn’t answer her text. He really didn’t need to do that, yet why did he?

Taking the longer way, she runs home and when she’s back in her apartment, she almost collapses. Instead of answering him right away though, she takes her time and takes a bath to relax because she knows that she’ll be on edge the whole evening when she meets him. She can be petty like that.

Dean’s back in his apartment. He can already hear people working down at his club. He hears trucks beeping, people shouting. He wants to tell them that they need to be quiet because the sound is kind of penetrating and he can’t really concentrate. Dean wonders why the people renting out the offices from him still didn’t complain.

After the shower, Dean sits down on the couch in his loft, thumbing over his phone to look at emails. He can’t help but check the text messages again to see if she has read it.

She had.

It’s on read.

She has left him on read for over an hour now. And it’s close to 6.00pm. She’s doing this on purpose, isn’t she? Some kind of a payback because he didn’t answer right away either. That little minx. Dean chuckles a little. Can’t really find it in his heart to be mad about it.

He abandons his phone because he needs to get dressed. It doesn’t really matter if she comes or not. Dean still needs to be there anyway. Well, it actually does matter to him if she’s coming or not. He would love to see her again, there’s no denying.

Dean buttons up his shirt when the phone chimes and his thumb eagerly opens the message, too eager because he almost swiped it away and deleted it. He had to remind himself to calm the fuck down.

Y/N: I’ll be there at 7

It’s simple. It’s short. It still made him smile like an idiot.

Y/N manages to make up her face a little. She wears a skirt too, not too short and a blouse because she doesn’t want to come across as cheap. The heels are a little torturous, though.

When she walks up to the club, the bouncers are already there, joking with each other and going through a list of probable VIP’s. She doesn’t really know. She wonders what Dean pays them to make them look over the fact that there are orgies going on in there every night. Well, it might be no fucking big deal to them because they’re working here, but it’s weird to her.

The same bouncer that greeted her two days ago comes forward and opens up the door for her immediately without even asking any questions. Dean must have instructed him about her.

Stepping in, there’s sounds and noises from people working and talking to each other. She can see Garth piling bottles into a cooler, other waiters and waitresses cleaning tables, making sure that everything’s ready for opening.

Dean sits in the booth facing the door and he immediately stands up when he notices her. He walks up to meet her halfway. The smile sits bright on his face. He looks good. Dean sneaks a hand around her waist, bends down to kiss her cheek and she can smell his cologne. It’s intoxicating. He smells as good as he looks.

He seems relaxed today. He’s a little different to the Dean she met two days ago. He was a little more tense back then.

“Come on. My office,” He jerks his head towards the stairs and she follows him.

“Not so fast. I’m wearing heels,” she says, when she feels him getting away too far ahead as they step into the VIP room. It’s empty and the air smells different.

Turning back, he chuckles and walks back to weave a hand around her waist to help guide her so that she’s able to keep up with him, “I can see that. You wear them for me, huh?”

Oh my god. She can’t roll her eyes to the back of her head fast enough and Dean laughs.

She should have known that he was going to be like that. He was so cocky back in school.

He pulls her closer to him by her waist, “Relax, I’m only joking. You know me,”

Yeah, she does know him.

“But,” he says, looking at her while they pass the next door which opens to the long hallway, “I’d like to think that you wore them for me. The skirt too. You look great, Y/N.”

She has to look down to hide the slight rise of color in her cheeks.

When they arrive in his office, he lets her sit down and it does wonder for her feet. Ugh, heels are so hard to walk in.

Dean sits next to her, twisting his body around so he can look at her, his one arm braced on the back of the couch, “So, what do you want to know?”

She bites on her lip, thinking. After a while she says, “I don’t know, what can you tell me?”

He moves closer. It’s only a little, but it’s enough for her nose to pick up his scent. Dean clears his throat, “I’ll be frank with you, Y/N. I have a lot to show you, but I need to know if you want this. I have to know if you want me to introduce you to the things you’ll be seeing. I want you to have an open mind about it, because I want you to get the whole experience out of it.”

“Oh, okay.” She frowns a little, doesn’t really know where he wants to go with that but the hell, she’s rolling with it.

“Are you in a relationship?” He asks, one of his eyebrows is raised in question.

“No, I’m not.” She swears she could see his shoulder relaxing when he hears that she isn’t. But maybe it’s just her imagination. Clearly Dean Winchester wouldn’t give two cents if she’s in a relationship or not.

“Good,” He smiles, “It would be a shame if you were, as I would have an angry boyfriend of yours come knocking down my door because I showed you things that he might not be happy about. Also, I would love for you to try some things in the rooms, if you’re up for it.”

“What things?” She asks, because she’s curious.

“Things you might like, things you might not. When I open the door to one of these rooms, you have to let me know if you want to go in or if you don’t. If we go in, I will tell you what happens in there and maybe if you’re curious, you can even try it.”

She has no idea what he’s talking about, but she’s interested nonetheless. She can already feel the tingling feeling between her thighs. Since when did she get so desperate?

“Okay,” She nods her head.

Dean smiles, and reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “You know that consent is the essence here. I want you to know that you can get out anytime, and if I should do anything to make you feel uncomfortable, I want you to tell me, you understand? I won’t get mad, I promise.”

She nods.

“I need a verbal confirmation, Y/N.” He says again, a little more firm.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Because I’m not binding you to any NDA’s. You’re here on your free will, are you?”

“Yes.”

“And you want to see what I have hidden in the rooms and how things work around here.”

“I do.”

“If you want out at any point and at any time. Just say tomato.”

“Tomato?” She furrows her brows.

Dean chuckles, “Yeah. The safe word used to be pie in this club but it got mixed up a couple of times so we’re going with tomato because it seems like nobody would say tomato while doing anything sexual.”

“That’s fair.” She shrugs and has to grin herself.

“Right. It’s good we got that out of the way. Now,” He makes himself more comfortable and rests his head on the back of the couch, turning to her. He looks younger, more comfortable, “What do you want to ask me about?”

“Tell me a little about how you started with this club,” She says and takes out her laptop opening it up to a word document, “You built this whole thing up, right?” She read that he did, but she isn’t entirely sure right now.

Dean smiles. He looks so easy, “I didn’t buy it as it is, if that’s what you’re asking. Bobby, my uncle owned the building. He let me take over for a fair price, and I kind of used all my money to build up this club. It wasn’t successful at first but I did some research and figured that people are often lonely in cities. Some of them just want to have a good time outside of the walls of their own home. I figured that I could provide it for them. And believe me, people are kinky. I live comfortably owning just one club. We’re in talks of expanding it. It’s strictly business for me, you know. I see myself as a businessman and there’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

“No, you’re right. It isn’t,” She agrees but something about what he said has stuck in her head. He talks about others being lonely but is he? She has learned to speak her mind as an investigative journalist, so she asks, “Are you lonely?”

He tilts his head to look at her again. His face changes a little and he looks sad for a second before he curves his lips into a smile, “I was. Not anymore.”

“So, you never used one of the rooms for yourself or engaged in the orgies in the VIP room?”

He laughs. It sounds bright and it’s addicting. She has to smirk.

“No, I’m the boss here. I don’t like to mix work with pleasure. What I do or who I do, is strictly private. And it’d be weird for my employees to see me naked, when I think about it.”

“Ugh, yeah.” She shudders because she just imagined seeing her boss naked. She has to shake her head to get the image out of her mind.

Dean watches her with a grin but he doesn’t say anything.

They continue to talk for a short while longer and Y/N types about things he reveals to her, before Dean suddenly gets up from the couch, “Come on, time’s almost up. We’re opening soon. I want to quickly show you some rooms before opening.”

Chapter 4

#euphoria #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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annab-nana · 5 years ago

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Kinda Lucky - Sam Golbach

You were away on a work trip when Sam broke his back and you can’t go visit him because of the quarantine in California, so as soon as you get back from the trip, Sam fills you in on all that happened and how the boys have been checking up on him.

Requested by @specialagentrin 💙

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 1.5k+

--------------------------------------------------

"Oh my God! Sam! Hi!" you shout excitedly as you see your boyfriend through your phone screen, but the smile on your face soon drops when you catch a glimpse of his back brace. You felt like absolute shit for not being able to really talk to him for the past week and a half, but your job wanted you and a couple of your coworkers to go on this retreat in the mountains and you barely got to use your phones. When you did get them, you were lucky if you got service.

The first night you were gone, all hell broke loose in Los Angeles. A few nights later, you got your phone for like an hour, but you had no service. Of course, you were determined to talk to Sam for at least a few minutes, so you wandered around until you got some sort of connection and when you did, all the text messages and Twitter notifications came through.

Sammy❤️ Don't freak out but I might have broken my back

Sam Tweeted: possibly just broke my back trying to jump off my roof… might go to the hospital right now and sadly no this is not a prank

Colby Tweeted: sometimes we just take things too far

Ye Roc Tweeted: Well shit

jake Tweeted: we wouldn’t prank you guys about this, it’s real. he’s a strong boy tho 💪🏻

Sammy❤️ Okay I definitely broke my back Sammy❤️ I know that when you get these messages you are gonna freak Sammy❤️ But I'm okay I promise Sammy❤️ I love you and hope you have fun on your retreat babe ❤️

Colbear🐨 hey just wanted to let you know that we made it to the hospital and he's doing good Colbear🐨 we are leaving the hospital and heading home Colbear🐨 he told me to tell you he loves you

Sam was right. As soon as you saw the messages and notifications, you freaked the fuck out. If Chloe, your coworker and close friend, had not have come on this retreat, you would have completely lost your mind worrying over your not-as-smart-as-he-thinks-he-is boyfriend. But you have had her to talk to about all this thankfully. For the few seconds of service you managed to find, you tried to call Sam, but he did not answer. So, you called his other half, Colby, and he answered. The two of you only talked for like five minutes maybe but during the whole conversation, he made sure you knew that he and the guys were taking care of your Sammy by sending you messages and videos throughout your whole trip.

"Y/n! Babe! How was your retreat?" Sam returns your same enthusiastic tone when replying.

"It was good, but I feel like crap for not being able to be with you through all this," You pout, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. You bring your hands up to cover your face and attempt to calm yourself down.

"No, baby, don't cry. I am fine. See, look at me!" his cheerful voice fills your ears. Looking up at him, you see his normal bright smile shining back at you. He had a hand rested on his back brace while his other gave you a thumbs up. A giggle falls from your lips as a tear escapes your eye. You wipe it away before smiling at your boy.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" He chuckles before nodding his head.

"Trust me, I know," he says as he rests both of his hands on his brace.

"Tell me how all this shit happened anyway." He sighs before beginning the story about how he and the guys were doing this ten days of dares thing for TikTok and the dare was to jump off the roof of their house onto the big white bean bag chairs that they have. And of course, when they spun the wheel to figure out who would do it, it landed on your boyfriend, Samuel John Golbach.

"Why did you agree to do it? I mean, I know you just did the video jumping off the balcony at the apartment onto those things but this was a much farther drop and there was a soft couch underneath the bean bags, not hard ass ground," you tell him and he shrugs, not really knowing why he did it but by the look on his face, you could tell he regretted it a lot.

"I don't know. I just did it and it was pretty scary. Colby kept saying 'You're good, man. You just knocked the wind out of you.' I think he was trying to convince himself more than me that I was okay. But we went inside and iced it before deciding that we should probably go to the hospital. So, Colby took me, but he told all about that right?" You nod at him before he continues.

"They gave me this cool ass vest and the guys have been the best through all of this. Even though I didn't want a break, I feel like this made me take one because I needed it. I'm stuck in this sucker for a little over four more weeks." Before he could continue, you hear someone enter his room.

"Oh, hey Jake. What's up?" Sam asks his roommate.

"Nothing bro, just brought you a drink, man," you hear Jake’s voice as Sam reaches for the beverage.

"Thanks, man," Sam smiles at his friend.

"Hello Jake!" you shout before hearing the pair chuckle.

"Hey y/n!" He responds before leaving to let Sam and I talk, but not without giving a delicate hug to his friend with the slightly damaged spine.

"So, you're getting the royal treatment, I see?" you ask as he sips on the soda that Jake had just brought to him. He hums in response.

"Well, I saw that you're still making tiktoks and not giving your back the rest it needs," you joke, receiving a cute chuckle from the man on the other end.

"No, I have been. You know how much I hate sitting around, doing absolutely nothing, but sometimes Corey will come up here and dance for me to keep me entertained. And he and Jake both invite me to come play video games with them, even when I kick Jake's ass every time." You giggle at him.

"That's my man," you boast as he smiles at you.

"Colby will come in here a lot and make sure I have everything I need. All of them do that actually, but Colby comes in here the most. It is really funny to see them try to hug me because they are so scared that it will hurt me. It doesn't and even if it did, I wouldn't care. They all hug me a whole lot than before. Colby lays in here with me and we will talk and scroll through TikTok so I'm not all alone."

"Has Colby been giving you cuddles for me?" you ask. When you talked to Colby on the phone while you were gone, you specifically asked him to give your Samuel cuddles for you. Sam laughs at the question but shakes his head.

"I hate to break it to you, but he hasn't. He's hugged me, but I have been cuddle deprived this whole quarantine."

"That bitch. I'm adding him to this call," You say as you add him to the FaceTime call between Sam and yourself. Soon enough, Sam and Colby's faces share your screen.

"Hello you two," Colby greets the two of you with a smile.

"Cole, I asked you to do one thing," you start.

"What did I do?" He questions as his eyes widen and he runs through every possible thing in his mind that he could be in trouble for.

"It's more of what you didn't do, brother," Sam comments with a huge smile on his face. Colby rolls his eyes before returning his attention to you.

"You were supposed to cuddle him for me. He doesn't have a dog like I do, and he needs cuddles now more than ever," you pout, poking out your bottom lip. Colby sighs before getting out of his bed, leaving his room, and ending the call, so it is just you and Sam on the phone. You can hear Sam's door open, causing him to look up from his phone. He flips the camera around so that you can see his best friend standing in front of his circular shaped bed. As he turns the camera back around, Colby gets into the bed with Sam and snuggles up next to him.

"Is this what you wanted?" Colby asks as he looks up at you. You bust out laughing, nodding your head. You can't help but take a screenshot of the adorableness in front of you.

"Hey, we didn't agree to that," Colby whines before sliding away from his best friend of nine years.

"Oh, trust me. You have plenty of bad pictures of me. You'll be fine, Cole," you tease. Colby leaves after a little while of you three talking and then it's just you and Sam alone again.

"Do you know how lucky you are to have friends like you do?" you ask him to which he grins greatly.

"I guess you could say I'm kinda lucky, but I am the luckiest guy in the world because I have you."

#sam #sam golbach #cute #sam x reader #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach fanfiction #colby #colby brock #jake #jake webber #corey #corey scherer #fanfic #fanficiton #y/n #sncnetwork

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realm-sweet-realm · 4 years ago

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Lasting Melodies, chapter 1: You Were Always There

I thought I’d make a story for Jack Fain and Sammy Lawrence, showing their snippets of their lives together from their first performance to Jack’s untimely death.

The first chapter is mostly going to be fluff. In the second chapter, ink-related angst kicks in.

I hope you all enjoy this.

---

In the backstage of a little theatre, Jack Fain sat in anxious silence, waiting to be called out alongside Sammy for their Vaudesville routine. During their practices together, he’d been able to push down the idea of dozens or hundreds of people staring at him for their entertainment, but now it was all he could think about. He looked to Sammy, who seemed much calmer, and offered him a little smile and a nod. Sammy had done many performances before, beginning with concerts as a child and teenager showcasing his prodigal talent. Sammy was the reason Jack didn’t simply shed the flashy vaudevillian getup and make a run for it- Sammy had never, at least as far as Jack knew, had a humiliating performance, and Jack wasn’t about to waste all the effort they’d put in and make it his first.

The announcer finally called them out. “Just focus on the routine,” Sammy said, leading Jack onto the stage.

The routine was no different than practice- in fact, the adrenaline of doing it before an audience made it easier if anything. It would have been poor performance not to look at the crowd, so Jack did, but they didn’t terrify him like they expected. They weren’t bored, or annoyed, or vicious, they were having fun. And Jack was having fun with them.

When the routine was finished, the crowd cheered.

“They love us, Sammy,” Jack breathed. Of course, the crowd had cheered for every performer that night, and Jack knew that. But it felt so good. People loved him! All their skill and effort had made people cheer.

Jack felt a little tug at his sleeve and followed Sammy’s lead backstage, slightly embarrassed that he’d almost overstayed his welcome.

“That was amazing!”

“Good!” Sammy replied. He was smiling, too. “I was starting to think you weren’t cut out for this, but you’re actually a real stage personality. Would you do it again with me?”

“Next chance we have.”

“Great. I’ve been meaning to ask you something, actually- I want to do shows like this for a living someday, but I'd want a partner for it. So, will you be my partner?”

“Wow, that’s an awfully big choice. I wanna say yes right away, but give me a little time to think about it. Okay? And thank you. I would have never been able to do this without you.”

“Heh. No problem. No one I’d rather be on stage with than you.”

Jack blushed. It was a touch awkward to have his crush and best friend praise him like that. “Thanks,” was all that he could manage.

---

As soon as Sammy walked in to their apartment, Jack could tell that he was in a bad mood. Jack put down the book he was reading and went to him. “Something up, Sam?”

Sammy sighed deeply. “I think we need to have a little house meeting.”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Well, I was fired by the movie theatre for,” Sammy made air quotes with his fingers, “‘unhinged and unprofessional behaviour.’ And let’s be honest- we’ve been at the musical thing long enough, and our names aren’t taking off. Remember that Joey Drew guy who offered to hire us as a pair? I think we should do that. It’s a way for us to be working on music together.”

“Well, it’s too bad that you want to give up on the performances, but hey, writing music for a living sounds like an improvement on working at the record store. Sure, let’s do it.”

Sammy smiled and nodded, then looked away. “There’s something else I want to tell you as well. I... well, I found your love poem.”

Jack was stunned. “What?”

Sammy took the folded piece of paper from his pocket. “Uh, here... sorry. You told me it was a song you weren’t finished with, and I took a peek, even though you told me not to, and it was probably an accident you left it in the open.”

Jack's heart raced, afraid of what this would mean for Sammy’s perspective of him. “Okay,” he began, in a tone one might use to calm an animal, “Now that you know about this, I understand if you want to set some new boundaries with me-”

“No! No- I found it months ago. Sorry I didn’t give it back- I just don’t think I convince myself it existed, otherwise. And I didn’t think I wanted to pursue this, but I just thought, you know, if I couldn’t pursue musical performance the way I wanted to, maybe I could have the other thing I wanted.”

Not quite stunned by disbelief, Jack cupped Sammy’s face with one of his hands, forcing Sammy to meet his eyes. “I love you too.”

Sammy pulled him into their first kiss. It was just how Jack had always imagined it would be.

---

Jack sat in Henry’s old desk, waiting for his turn to be called into Joey’s office. Joey had, for no obvious reason, scheduled Sammy in for a fifteen-minute meeting at nine, with him having a similar meeting right after. Finally, Sammy came out, not looking any more upset than usual, thankfully.

“You’re not getting fired, don’t worry,” Sammy said. “We’re gonna have plenty to talk about over lunch, though.”

“Okay.” Jack’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Any idea what his reason is for calling us in like this?”

“Frankly? I think you’re sitting on it,” Sammy said, rolling his eyes. Then he left.

This just confused Jack. There had been no secret that Joey was sore over Henry’s departure a couple days ago, but what could that have to do with Joey wanting to see them?

As soon as Jack had entered Joey’s office, Joey had sat him down with a nice cup of coffee. “So, this is just going to be a casual meeting, Jack. Just you and me talking- one artist to another, alright?” There was an air of longing and desperation in Joey’s eyes.

“Alright.”

“Alright! Excellent! So, as an artistic man, I’m sure that you understand that an artist needs a partner, right?” Joey reached out and stroked Jack’s hand with his finger. Jack took his hand off the desk.

“I’m actually with someone else.”

Disappointment was evident in Joey’s eyes. “Oh, I meant nothing of that sort. I meant a person I could share my dreams and my ideas with. To be loyal and dependable to me.”

“Okay. Sure. I can do that.”

“Alright, great. First thing- you spend a lot of time with Sammy. Tell me about him- what he likes, what he dislikes, what he means when he says ‘please give me space,’ and so on.”

The fifteen minutes passed, and subjects such art, dreams, and ideas went unmentioned. Jack and Sammy truly did have a lot to talk about over lunch, which they took in Sammy’s office for privacy’s sake.

“Wow. He was really that direct with you?” Sammy couldn’t say he was surprised. Though he hadn’t been that obvious about it, Joey had clearly been chasing Sammy’s approval.

“Yep. But the second I told him I was with someone else, he went right on to talking about you. I could just see him taking notes on how to impress you.”

“Pathetic. Well, maybe I should tell him that I’m interested in complete control over my department, who works in it, and when he visits it. Who knows, I might get it. And then you’ll have eternal job security.”

“And maybe I could tell him that you like something goofy to see how far he’ll go.”

Sammy smiled. “Please do. This I must see.”

The next day, Jack told Joey that Sammy’s favourite flower was a white carnation. When Jack came in the next day, there was a vase containing three white carnations on Joey’s desk.

Now knowing his power, Jack resisted the temptation to use it for about a week before he decided to wax poetic to Joey about Sammy’s supposed lifelong love of reptiles. The day after that, Sammy walked into their morning meeting to see Joey with a medium-sized snake around his shoulders. “Her name is Vivaldi,” Joey explained. “She’s a Bullsnake. Wanna pet her?”

Sammy did not, in fact, want to pet her.

After the snake incident, Jack’s daily meetings with Joey became more professionally-focused before ending entirely, and within a few weeks, Vivaldi’s tank, along with the snake herself, had disappeared from Joey’s office.

---

“What? Why...?” Tears were forming in Jack’s eyes. He couldn’t believe this.

Sammy ground his teeth. This wasn’t easy for him, either. “Because you’re the anchor that’s keeping me at Joey Drew Studios. I’m turning thirty in a month, and I… I don’t know whether to accept that I’m going to be working here forever or if I should move on to other options. But “other options” probably wouldn’t let me keep working with you. I need to remind myself that I can live without you, and look at what other opportunities are out there. So, yeah. We can still live together, and we can still talk as the job or as being roommates requires, but I’m going to try not being your friend or your boyfriend for a while, okay? It probably won’t be for more than a month or two.”

Jack wanted to say something- something like, “but I need you, too!” but he didn’t. “Okay,” was all he said. “I hope you get what you want from this.”

Sammy cringed at how defeated Jack sounded. He wanted to hug him, but he didn’t want to break their “no being friends or lovers” agreement within the first five seconds, so instead he left for his room.

Jack and Sammy soon found out that they were very bad at staying away from each other. People still used Jack as a go-between to get messages through to Sammy, and that alone meant they interacted almost on a daily basis. The two of them still needed a discerning eye to look over their music, and while there were others, there was no one they trusted as much or enjoyed the company of quite the same. Sometimes Jack would forget (or “forget”) about their break period and try to bring Sammy coffee and snacks, or check to make sure Sammy was doing alright during the deadline crunch- and sometimes Sammy would send him away out of principle, but just as often he didn’t have the willpower. Jack found himself entertaining fantasies of them drifting back together within a matter of weeks.

Then one day, Jack caught sight of Susie Campbell kissing Sammy’s cheek in the music room. “Other opportunities” indeed. Jack wrestled with himself over whether to say anything, but ultimately chose to keep it to himself. If that was what Sammy wanted, there was nothing he could do about it.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #my fanfiction #sammy x jack #sammy lawrence #Jack Fain #joey drew

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atc74 · 4 years ago

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Soul to Souls - Twenty

Warnings: Mentions of labor, fluff, some more fluff, worried!Dean, fluff...it is just a huge fluff fest

Summary: Since she was four years old, Annaleigh has seen the same boy in her dreams. For twenty-five years, she grows to love the boy that has now turned into a man. Dean Winchester just lost the only family he has ever known. The guilt drives him to work harder than ever before. He works to forget the pain, until he meets Annaleigh and she turns his world upside down. What she learns changes both of their lives forever, but what will he do when he discovers the truth? Will he accept it or run back to the only life he has ever known?

Pairing: Dean x OC Annaleigh

Word Count: 1650

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, @katehuntington, thank you both for being my guides! Dividers and cover art by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89.

A/N: This was my very first series I ever wrote four years ago in September 2016 and I am so happy and proud to bring this back home. Thank you to everyone that is enjoying the story so far. You’re probably going to get a couple chapters a week, trying to wrap this up before the new series starts.

This is the very end. Thank you so much to everyone for sharing this journey with me, a second time. I hope you love this little family as much as I do!

Like Dean’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

Soul to Souls Master List

Sam arrived at the hospital the next morning with the twins in tow to meet the newest member of their family. Dean greeted his brother and his two older children. Holding their daughter, Annaleigh watched from her bed as he settled the twins into the large rocking chair in preparation to hold their baby sister. She gently transferred the baby into Dean’s arms, kissing him lightly.

“Okay, you two. You have to be gentle now. She’s really tiny, okay?” Dean spoke to them softly as he set the baby on their combined laps. “Millie, Robby, this is your new sister, Sammie. Samantha Karen Winchester.”

Dean glanced up from his children to catch his brother hastily swipe a hand across his face. “Come ‘ere.”

“I thought you didn’t do chick flick moments,” Sam scoffed, trying to conceal his emotions.

Dean pulled his brother in, hugging him tightly. “You know I love ‘em. But, don’t tell anyone, I’ll kill ya.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam laughed, sniffling.

“Babe, I don’t want to interrupt your moment, but would you mind getting me some more ice?” Annaleigh held out the empty pitcher for him, and he grabbed it from her.

“Coming right up. Sammy, watch them, please,” Dean called out to his brother as he left the room.

Annaleigh and Sammie were discharged with a clean bill of health later that day, and she was excited to get home. She may have just given birth, but it was still her husband’s birthday. She had texted Sam as soon as Dean left to pull their vehicle around, hoping everything was ready. Her phone buzzed in her hoodie, and she pulled it out to see a text from Sam. She smiled, knowing it was going to be perfect.

“Are my girls ready to go home?” Dean smiled as he entered the hospital room.

“Yeah, we’re more than ready, Daddy.” Anna returned his smile, ensuring Sammie was strapped into her carrier, the cover ready to be zipped up to keep the frigid January wind out.

“Okay, Mama, here we go,” Dean announced, throwing his wife’s bag over his shoulder before gently picking up their newborn. Anna grabbed the diaper bag, and they headed home with their new baby.

With precious cargo in the backseat, Dean drove slower than normal. He checked on his girls frequently through the rearview mirror of the new three row sport utility vehicle. He had given up driving Baby on a regular basis when the twins were born, but when they found out they were expecting another baby, Dean insisted on a larger truck, so his family was safe and sound. He now only drove his beloved Impala on date nights with his wife.

Rolling to a stop right in front of the walk, he hurried from his seat to help Anna out of the back. “Okay, Red, take it easy.” Dean held her hand as she slipped from the captain’s seat. He quickly went to the other side to grab the carrier before helping Anna to the door.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Dean cooed, gazing down at his newborn daughter. “Welcome home.”

Annaleigh made her way through the door with Dean right behind her. He set the baby carrier down then turned back to retrieve the bags from the truck. Anna peaked around the corner of the archway to see everyone ready. She winked quickly at Sam before reaching down and releasing the straps to gently lift the Sammie into her arms. She joined the rest of the family in the kitchen to wait for her husband.

They heard Dean’s heavy footfalls on the porch before the door opened once more. “Red? Where’d you go?” He removed his boots and walked around the corner into the kitchen to find his family.

“Happy birthday!” The extended Winchester clan exclaimed, catching Dean by surprise.

His eyes slowly scanned the room, taking in the faces of his family. His incredible wife and their new daughter, standing with their almost four year twins. The smiling face of his brother, his arm around their neighbor, Jody. Bobby, his surrogate father, and Castiel, the angel who raised him from perdition. Dean felt his eyes well up, finally allowing himself to let out the overwhelming flow of emotions he had experienced in the last twenty-four hours.

From the apprehension when Annaleigh went into labor, to the fear that something would go wrong during the birth, to the joy and relief when Sammie finally took her first breath. To have his family, the people most important to him on the planet, in one room, meant more to him than he could possibly express in words. He didn’t even know if the words existed for what he was feeling.

Anna passed the baby to Jody, before rushing to Dean and engulfing him in her arms for the first time since before their daughter was born. “Happy birthday, Baby.”

Dean let the tears flow freely as he held tight to his wife. “I love you, Red. Thank you so much for this.”

“Daddy! Daddy!” Millie and Robby ran over to Dean, each holding a gift for their dad.

Dean lowered himself to wrap his arms around his children, bringing them both into a bear hug. When he released them, he took their proffered gifts, holding onto them to open later.

“Happy birthday, brother.” Sam engulfed his brother in a warm embrace, like so many they had shared before.

“Thanks, Sammy.” Dean clapped his brother on the back before letting go. He exchanged quick hugs with Cas and Bobby, before reaching Jody.

“Thank you for being here for my family,” he expressed his gratitude and lightly kissed her cheek. “And, you’re good for my brother. I’m happy for you two.”

Jody smiled, a blush creeping up her cheeks as she glanced over at Sam, holding his new niece, looking happier than he had been in years. “Thank you, Dean. I’m happy, too.”

“Daddy, open your pwesents!” Robby hollered, shaking them in front of him.

Dean took the less than subtle hint from his son and sat down at the table. “Which one should I open first?” He looked between his two oldest children, a smirk on his face.

“Mine!” They yelled out together.

“No mine.” Millie shoved her gift out.

“No, Millie. I said mine!” Robby protested.

“Hey, hey. Calm down, both of you,” Annaleigh broke up the potential fight before it could really get started. “Your sister is sleeping, and it’s Daddy’s birthday. This is not how you act, is it?”

“No, Mama. I’m sorry,” Millie murmured.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Robby echoed.

“Okay, now please have some patience. Daddy will open them when it is time for presents, okay?”

“Yes, Mama,” they replied in unison.

“Well dinner is ready to be served, if anyone is hungry,” Jody announced to the family.

“Yes! I’m freaking starving!” Dean exclaimed, the group laughing, because when wasn’t Dean hungry?

“I’m going to put the baby down,” Annaleigh said, taking her from Sam’s arms.

“I’ll come with you,” Dean said. “We’ll be back soon.”

They climbed the stairs hand in hand. Thankfully, Sam and Jody had moved the bassinet and baby monitor to their bedroom. Annaleigh gingerly laid Sammie down on her back, swaddled tightly. She was already asleep, and they held their collective breath, hoping she would stay that way for at least an hour or two. After a few minutes, they closed the door and headed back to the kitchen for dinner, baby monitor in hand.

The mood in the kitchen was jovial. The Winchesters had much to celebrate that night, not just Dean’s birthday, but the birth of another child, a healthy family, and good friends. Watching his family, Dean decided he couldn’t be happier than he was at that moment.

“Is it time for pwesents now?” Robby groaned.

“Yeah, buddy, it is,” Dean laughed. He closed his eyes and blindly reached for the pile of presents. He opened his eyes and started tearing into the paper to reveal a picture of him and Millie, inside a frame that read “Daddy’s Number One Girl”.

Millie threw herself into Dean’s arms. “I love you, Daddy. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, baby girl. I love you, too.”

“Okay, Robby, your turn.” Dean opened the second present on the table, and was again met with a picture of himself, this time with his son, under the hood of the Impala, both of them smiling ear to ear, with grease on their faces. The frame read “Mechanic in Training”.

“Buddy, thank you. I love this, so much. I know you’re going to take good care of Baby someday.”

“Love you, too, Daddy. I pwomise I will.” Robby wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck.

“Thank you guys so much for being here.” Dean smiled, filled with emotion, meeting each of their eyes as he looked around the room.

“Babe, there is one more,” Annaleigh came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, a present in her left hand.

“Red, you gave me a baby for my birthday, what else could you possibly give me that I don’t already have?”

“Just open it, dude,” Sam demanded. He was sitting across from Dean, Jody pulled into his side.

Dean carefully pulled back the paper. Inside he found another picture, this one of all three of his children. The frame read Daddy’s Little Angels. He sniffed slightly, a tear rolling down his cheek. “When did you take this?”

“Sam took it this morning when you went to get me more ice chips,” Annaleigh told him.

Dean collected himself for a moment, breathing deeply. “I don’t know what to say.”

At that moment, Dean knew his happiness knew no limits. He knew each day would be different, and there would be good days, bad days, and great days. But, his happiness would grow by leaps and bounds, just like his love for his family.

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

Soul to Souls tags: @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @iwantthedean @jensengirl83 @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @kbl1313 @waywardbeanie @whatareyousearchingfordean @princessmisery666 @shy-violet-soul @lastcallatrockysbar @winchesterxfamilybusiness @fangirlxwritesx67 @squirrelnotsam @michellethetvaddict @magssteenkamp @wonder-cole

#dean x annaleigh #dean winchester x ofc #dean x ofc #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut

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lady-wallace · 4 years ago

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Whumptober Day Four: “Running Out of Time” (Supernatural)

Day Four: “Running Out of Time”

Prompts used: collapsing building

Fandom: Supernatural

Read on Ao3

Read on FF.net

~~~~~~~

The sirens were blaring when Dean pulled the Impala to a screeching halt, not even bothering to mutter an apology to his baby this time as he threw open the door and scrambled out of the car, looking toward the looming dust that was hovering over the city block.

Dean's heart was in his throat. Please no, he pleaded. Please…

But as he made it out onto the street, he saw that his worst fears were confirmed.

The building Sam had gone to investigate in had been blown to bits.

Trying to quell his fear for the worst, Dean pushed his way through the horrified onlookers, yanking his FBI badge out—not that it would do much good.

He found the sheriff they had been working with on the case standing off to the side with several other officers and rescue workers.

"Sheriff," Dean called. "Have you seen my bro—partner? He was interviewing people in the building."

The sheriff shook his head. "Sorry, agent, I didn't see him. We don't even really know what happened. The going theory is that it was a gas main, but I don't think we'd be so lucky as to assume that it was just a coincidence."

Yeah, it sure as hell wasn't. Dean gritted his teeth, fury and desperation surging through him. He knew they shouldn't have taken a job with another hunter. It never ended well. He and Sam should have sent him packing as soon as they had realized how many screws he had loose. They had tried, but Jerry Preston was a stubborn bastard and he'd been determined to get the monster that had killed his previous hunting partner, even if he had to use explosives to do it.

Dean could appreciate a little revenge, sure, but he was beginning to think that it had been Preston that had been the cause of his buddy's death. And who the hell thought a bomb was a good way to take out a monster?

A fireman suddenly came running up to the gathered rescue team. "This building isn't going to last much longer, we need to get everyone away."

"Wait, it's collapsing?" Dean demanded. "What about everyone inside?"

"Thankfully, since it was a holiday weekend, only a few people were working today. We got as many out as we can, but I won't risk sending any of my men in now."

"My partner's in there!" Dean shouted.

"You don't know that for sure, agent," the sheriff said, obviously trying to calm him down, but Dean wasn't having it.

"If he wasn't he would be out here. I've already tried calling him and there was no answer!" He was cut off by a loud, rending crash as more of the building fell down, dust billowing up as more people screamed.

"If you won't go in, I will," Dean said with determination.

"Agent!" the sheriff and fire chief both yelled at once but Dean evaded their hands and rushed into the building.

The dust was blinding and he choked on it, lungs spasming as memories of smoke and fire surged up. It hadn't been that long ago when Dean had saved Sam from a fire for a second time. This would be no different. He would find his brother and he would get him out of there. He pulled his t-shirt over his mouth and kept going.

"Sam!" he shouted, hurrying through the building. He had no idea where the hell Sam might be, but he wouldn't stop looking until he found him.

Or until the building fell down, but if Sam couldn't be recovered, then Dean wouldn't care if it took him with it.

He found Preston first. The other hunter's throat had been ripped out. Dean felt his stomach roil, ignoring the sound of girders shifting and rubble clattering on the ground. It looked like Preston hadn't gotten his revenge after all, despite all this. Dean almost wished he was still alive so he could kick his teeth in. If anything had happened to Sammy…

"D-Dean…"

The voice, though faint, was still as loud as a gunshot to Dean filtering through the sounds of the building collapsing.

"Sammy!" he cried, whipping around, trying to find his brother.

"Left…"

Dean spun around and finally found him. Sam was trapped under a desk, that had been smashed by a large piece of ceiling that had come down. Dean raced to his brother's side, crouching down as he looked at him.

"God, Sammy," he whispered, exhaling in relief that was short-lived when he saw what Sam was trapped under. He saw another smear of blood off to one side, and nearly threw up as he realized it was from a smashed figure that had taken the worst of the rubble.

"Don' worry," Sammy said, and coughed. "Jus' the monster."

Dean lowered a hand to Sam's dust-covered hair as he made a quick examination of his brother. "How bad?" he asked, swallowing hard.

Sam wet his lips. "Just my leg stuck. Hurts, but I don't think it's broken. Maybe a couple cracked ribs. Desk stopped stuff from falling on me full-force." He coughed again on the dust and Dean hurriedly pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and tied it across Sam's nose and mouth to filter out the dust.

"Just hold on, Sammy, I'll get you free."

Another horrible rending sound screamed through the building and Dean ducked instinctively, shielding his brother, as more of the building fell in, some debris dusting his back.

"Dean," Sam croaked, one hand clutching his brother's sleeve. "You should…go. Get out. No time…"

"Like hell," Dean snapped. "You know I'm not gonna leave you here."

He began to inspect the rubble, seeing exactly what was trapping Sam and realized it was the edge of the desk that had a large chunk of the ceiling on top of it. He was pretty sure he could move it.

He just wasn't sure if he would be able to do it in time.

But he would be damned if he didn't try to.

Dean put his shoulder into it and shoved as hard as he could, using a piece of rebar as leverage. It shifted, and Sam cried out, causing Dean to grit his teeth. He was choking on the dust, and couldn't breathe very well, making him even more desperate.

But finally, with one last heave and a defiant cry, Dean shifted the debris and after that, it was just shoving some more smaller pieces away before he was able to lift the table off of his brother.

Sam was breathing heavily, wincing at each breath, and Dean hurriedly checked him over for broken bones before he started to pull him upright.

Sam gasped and grabbed on to Dean.

"Easy," Dean said, taking his brother's weight, knowing Sam was probably going to be favoring that left foot and still not sure if it was broken or not.

Another loud, rending crash pealed through the building and the ceiling above them shook, debris raining down on their heads. They were running out of time.

"Need to…go…" Sam breathed heavily, trying to stabilize himself as he limped, and almost collapsed, wrapping an arm around his ribs.

"Yeah, we do," Dean said, and wrapped Sam's other arm around his shoulders, practically hauling him along. Sam bit back a cry, groaning, and Dean bit his lip.

Another crash settled it. Dean simply heaved Sam up onto his shoulders. He knew it wasn't the best thing to do if Sammy had broken ribs, but at the moment they were in more danger of being crushed than they were of a punctured lung.

"Dean!" Sam cried as his older brother adjusted to his weight and hurried toward the entrance of the building.

Another horrible crash sounded behind them, dust encasing them, Dean picked up the pace as Sam's fingers dug into his arm.

"Not…gonna…"

But they did make it. Dean burst out of the building in a plume of dust and the light hit him full in the face. He gasped, coughing up the dust in his lungs, as he started to lower Sam off of his shoulders.

Paramedics were already rushing toward them, ushering them away, and getting Sam on a stretcher.

"Come away! It's going!" Someone shouted and Dean glanced behind him just in time to see the building collapse.

His knees wouldn't support him anymore, and he sank slowly to the ground, breathing heavily as he watched the building completely collapse in on itself.

Another minute, and they would have been caught in it.

Dean gave a shuddering exhalation of breath.

"Hey, are you riding with your partner, agent?" one of the paramedics called to Dean.

"Yeah," he croaked and pushed himself to his feet, climbing into the back of the ambulance where he sat beside Sam's head, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder with a poof of dust before he ran a hand through his brother's filthy hair. This one had been way too close.

Later at the hospital after Sam had been patched up and was lying, finally clean of dust, in a bed, his injured foot propped up, Dean sat by his side, eyeing the jello that had been brought for him.

"Next time, let's not work with crazy hunters," Dean said. "I don't really want to be running into any more collapsing buildings any time soon."

Sam huffed in agreement. "Yeah, no kidding. But…we are crazy hunters, aren't we? I mean, this could be us in a few years. You never know."

"Considering our track record, I doubt we'll live that long," Dean said and snatched the jello after all, getting a frown from Sam.

This one had been way too close of a call, and he wasn't stupid enough to think it would be their last one either. But at the end of the day, they always knew that they had each other to get them out of trouble when they needed it.

#whumptober2020 #no.4 #running out of time #collapsing building #supernatural #my fics #hurt sam #dean to the rescue #brother feels #sam winchester #dean winchester

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talesmaniac89 · 5 years ago

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The Wingman

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: You worry about Dean Winchester as he’s trying to act like your wingman to hook you up with Sam, unaware that Sam thinks Dean’s his wingman.

Triggers: None, just fluff

Y/N = Your Name | Y/E/C = Your Eye Colour | Y/H/C = Your Hair Colour

—

Reader: For the last few days Dean Winchester, your best friend and the older brother of your secret crush, had been acting kind of… Well, weird as hell. Since you’d moved into the bunker your best friend had always just treated you as one of the boys. Just as ready to prank you or help you out whenever you pretended a cute bartender caught your eye to hide the fact that Sam’s flirting with some other blonde and beautiful perfect 10 was breaking your heart.

Yet, just a few days back. His whole brotherly act had twisted. Everything from little winks to secretive smirks sent your way at random times throughout the day. His very vocal appraisals of every little thing you did or wore… He wasn’t acting like the Dean you knew.

“(Y/N), you look good with your hair up… Doesn’t she look good with her hair up Sammy?”

At first, you’d struggled with the awful feeling of him possibly liking you as more than just a friend. Agonising over how you could turn the hunter, who you loved like a brother, down. Feeling awful that you had to hurt him because of your unrequited feelings for the youngest Winchester. Hell, you’d spent more than one night awake trying to rehearse and rephrase the many imaginary ways you could break it to the hunter with the biggest heart you knew.

Though you didn’t love him like that, you still loved him, and you didn’t want him to be hurt.

But… Just as soon as the agonising fears struck you, the reality of your situation hit like a goddamn freight train. And suddenly you wanted to be the one to hurt the hunter. Of course, it was a relief that your best friend still just saw you as his. Still, Dean wasn’t in love with you, which was a relief, but he knew…

He knew you loved Sam.

How he’d figured it out you didn’t know, but you were 99.9 percent certain. Dean Winchester knew you loved his brother, and he was doing a shitty job of keeping your little secret under wraps.

Sam had been around for every little wink. Usually leaning closer to read a piece of lore over your shoulder or scooting over so you could grab a seat on the couch next to him. For every secretive smirk, there was a matching secret storm of butterflies in your stomach as your pulse rose to dangerous levels at the younger hunter’s proximity.

Even the comments. Every little compliment was followed by Sam’s name. Asking his brother to back up how good your hair looked, how the top you’d just pulled out of the wardrobe was ‘very flattering’ or whatever bullshit he managed to come up with. Hell, he even kept talking about how amazing Sam was, as if you didn’t already know. Probably wanting you to agree to enact some strange form of a “you complimented each other, now kiss”-moment.

Dean knew and, just like he’d done endless times at bars with random strangers, he was trying (and failing) to be your wingman.

So, when the older hunter entered the library where Sam and you were just settling in for a late night of researching for a fellow hunter’s monster of the week, you groaned internally. Knowing you were in for another evening of silent colour commentary about secret feelings, hidden glances and raised heart beats.

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Sam: Dean had been getting on Sam’s nerves for the last week. Ever since his older brother figured out how Sam felt about you, he hadn’t shut up about it whenever the two brothers were alone. But even that was tolerable next to the way he acted when you were in the room.

Dean’s way of acting like a wingman wasn’t really subtle.

Every time you were in the same room as Sam, and even remotely close to him, Dean would raise his eyebrow at the youngest Winchester. Egging him on with winks and smirks as he struggled with going past just simple greetings and hidden glances. Not that the push from Dean was even going to help…

It wasn’t as if Sam hadn’t tried to tell you. Hell, he’d attempted to get the feelings across for what felt like an eternity. But every time he wanted to say anything, to tell you he loved you, the feelings he wanted to confess just came out as simple hellos, good nights and good mornings. Turning every word he spoke to you into secret confessions of love.

Meanwhile, his older brother had no problem attempting to translate Sam’s unspoken feelings into English. The older hunter would constantly compliment you whenever you walked in the room asking for Sam to back him up.

Teasing out stuttered soliloquies that were only mere fragments of the words Sam’s mind used to describe your absolute beauty and perfection every single day. Making him cringe over his dull little “you look pretty” replies, as his mind added verses upon verses about how your (Y/E/C) eyes caught the light, how the sound of your laughter was what dreams were made of, or how much he loved the way your smile always made him feel better, brighter even on the darkest days.

All of which was left unspoken until he was alone in his room again in the evening. Regretting every one of the day's actions and replaying the moments in his head. Answering his ceiling instead of you with the words he should have said. Words of love and beauty painting his ceiling in an invisible mural of secret feelings, dedicated to you.

Worse yet was Dean’s favourite way of acting like Sam’s wingman, and probably the most transparent. The oldest Winchester’s constant “humble bragging” about his younger brother was textbook wingman behaviour. Though you still hadn’t seemed to catch on… Thankfully. Though Sam couldn’t help to tag a worried “for now” to the end of that chain of thoughts as Dean dropped down in the seat next to you. The younger hunter cringing in anticipation of another attempt to make you turn to face him.

Perfect you, and broken Sam… It wasn’t going to happen, and the only thing his brother was helping Sam with, was ruining what little bond he had with you. Once you realised, things would just get awkward. Maybe it would damage your carefully crafted friendship. Hell, maybe it would scare you away from the bunker forever. Maybe you’d never smile at him again.

No matter what - this whole shitstorm could only end with heartbreak. With Sam’s heart as the unwilling sacrifice.

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Reader: “Hey (Y/N)?” As Dean spoke up, the innocent words made you flinch from the clearly up-to-no-good smile that followed them.

Waiting for another forced compliment from Sam through Dean, or some other new and creative way to hint at your infatuation with the younger hunter, your hand gripped the old tome in your hands a little harder. Your eyes refocusing back on the words on the page with a noncommittal mumbled noise of acknowledgement. Waiting for whatever new dissection of your feelings would be performed on top of the library table that evening.

Though, for once, Dean surprised you by staying clear of the topic. Choosing instead to focus on the research in front of him. His refreshingly innuendo free question made your tense shoulders instantly relax. Though in the dark suspicious depths of your mind, you still clung to a thread of that wariness.

“Which of these books should I start with?” The older hunter asked, holding up two books for you to glance at out of the corner of your eye. Looking over at the two ancient books you simply nodded towards his right hand, relief clearly evident in your eyes as Dean gave you a boyish, teasing grin. Letting you know that he hadn’t missed the obvious way your body relaxed at the innocent question.

“That one. We’re looking for info about a possible djinn subspecies to help out on a strange case in New York,”

With a silent nod, Dean dropped the other book back onto the library table with a dull thud before hunkering down over the dusty pages of the book you’d pointed out. As his eyes scanned the page, you were rewarded with no more than a few seconds of silence before the older Winchester clearly decided to audition for the role of annoying best friend once more with an overacted sigh.

“This one’s too much for me… Someone smarter should read it,” The hunter groaned out words that were clearly a load of bull. Dean Winchester was one of the smartest men you knew. So, this was clearly a ploy. And you could guess what was coming next. “Hey (Y/N)… Did you know? Sam’s super smart, he even went to Stanford. This book won’t be a problem for him,”

Focusing your full attention on the page in front of you, you burned the words into your eyes to keep from rolling them and rewarding Dean’s obvious ploy and poor acting. Opening your mouth to shut the hunter down you were just a second late as Sam beat you to it.

“Shut up Dean,” The words were no more than a mumble over the top of the book the younger Winchester, and the lead actor in all of your daydreams, was reading. The exasperation those three words were soaked in was the only hint at the expression hiding behind the leather binding as Sam kept his head in the book.

“Yeah, you’re right, we have work to do. You’ve always been the responsible one…” Dean sighed. The book forgotten on the table and his poor acting skills still very much intact even with the less than stellar reception of Act 1. “Sammy’s very responsible, isn’t he (Y/N)?”

“I know Dean... Now please focus on the research,” Your own sigh was very much not an act as you shot daggers at your best friend out of the corner of your eye. Ignoring the bright shiteating grin he gave you in return. As well as the cheeky wink that followed.

“Alright, alright… We’re all serious today,” Dean said with a roll of green eyes as your own (Y/E/C) eyes burned into him. Silently promising him a world of hurt if he didn’t calm the fuck down.

Taking your silent threat seriously, your best friend raised his hands in a quiet surrender. The bunker easily returning to the comfortable silence of rustling paper as Dean picked the book up again. Not adding any further complaints about the complexity of it as he flipped through the pages looking for hints.

---

The silence lasted for half an hour give or take a few minutes.

Though it felt like no time at all had passed as the sound of Dean’s fingers tapping against the wooden table drew you out of a paragraph about Baltic genie myths that could possibly point at a subspecies. The tapping growing increasingly louder as the older hunter made no attempts at hiding how he was trying to get your attention.

Glancing at him from out of the corner of your eye, you watched as your best friend looked from Sam to you and back again. Clearly debating something with his conscience and need for absolute mayhem as green eyes followed the well beaten path between you and your crush.

A pat your own eyes had often taken to cast secretive glances at a certain Sam Winchester. Well, not so secretive it turned out. Since Dean had easily interpreted those glances for exactly what they were.

As the annoyed crease in his brow slowly but surely disappeared, only to be replaced with a smile, you steeled yourself. The confident smirk that replaced the internal round table discussion with the angel and devil on Dean’s shoulders instantly terrifying you. He was up to something, and whatever that something was, it wasn’t good.

The sound of his chair scraping jostled you fully out of the pages of the book as you looked up at him. From across the table you could see Sam flinch and look up at his brother from behind his book as well. Hazel eyes dark with worry as that cute confused crease that always made you feel all tingly made a guest appearance on his brow. Just slightly hidden by the hunter’s soft brown hair. Clearly Sam was seeing the same thing you were. And neither of you trusted the bright gleam in Dean’s eyes as he turned his chair to face you fully.

“Hey… Do I know you?” He asked, the same cocky grin brightening as you looked on confused. Your mind trying, and failing, to figure out where your best friend was going with this one.

“Uhm… Yes, you do Dean…” You hesitated over the words. Unsure what would be the right thing to say to stop whatever train wreck was happening from, well, happening.

“‘Cause you look like my future sister in law,” Dean finished with a flourish and an overacted wink. Clearly choosing to ignore your words completely as he delivered the slightly edited pickup line your way.

“Wha…” Your mind was blank. Dean had taken his little joke too far. Looking from Dean to Sam and back down to your book, you tried to find the words you needed. But Sam beat you to it, his low rumbled voice sounding equal parts embarrassed, confused and outraged.

“Did you just hit on (Y/N)? For me?” Sam’s words were barely above a whisper as he looked at his older brother. There was a quiet anger and something more, something smaller and scared, in his voice as the words trembled across the table. Reaching both you, frozen in place, and the older hunter whose grin was fading slowly when faced with his younger brother’s quiet rage.

Yet, you missed the silent argument that was happening between the two sets of eyes belonging to your best friend and the man you loved. Your mind loud and noisy with the many different creative ways the younger hunter could voice what was basically a direct rejection of your feelings. There was, after all, no way Sam could misunderstand Dean’s words. Not when he practically spelled out your feelings in plain English. Your spiralling mind only breaking free from your early attempt at crushing your own heart before Sam could as Dean’s palms slapped against the table making you jump in your seat.

“Someone had to!” Dean shouted, but there wasn’t actual anger there. More just long pent up frustration as the words echoed across forgotten research books in the library. “I’m sick and tired of this whole will-they-won’t-they thing. I feel like I’m living in a damned chick flick! And, in case you missed the memo, I hate chick flicks!”

Giving neither of you a chance to fight back or deny his words. Dean jumped fully out of his seat; one hand still anchored to the wood of the table as the other one pointed directly at you.

“(Y/N)!” Though you already knew what was coming, you couldn’t help but flinch as Dean called your name. In some twisted forced confession roll call.

“Yeah?” Your voice broke over the one-word reply, knowing he was about to either tell Sam himself, or force you to vocalise your feelings. Yet… What followed was exactly the opposite.

“My brother here is madly in love with you,” Dean said, his hand that had been pointing at you easily swinging across the table to point at his brother instead. Sam barely even took note of the finger pointing at him. His eyes wide and jaw dropped as the big guy was growing both pale and red simultaneously. His heart sending all the blood to his head in an act of a rebellious standoff featuring logic versus emotion.

“Sam…” Dean continued, clearly not done just yet.

“Sam!” Dean barked, a little louder, in an attempt to pull the younger hunter out of his daze as he barely registered the roll call. His wide hazel eyes going back and forth between his brother and you in shock and what seemed to be the early stages of embarrassed relief of finally having the truth out there.

“Sammy!” Dean’s insistent third attempt was just enough to draw a small nod out of the youngest Winchester. Which the older hunter clearly deemed as enough of a reply as he spilled the secret you’d promised yourself to never voice.

“(Y/N)’s obviously been in love with you since… Hell I don’t know, since forever,”

As the words left your best friend like a slow-motion action scene in one of those movies he loved just a little too much, you watched as Sam’s eyes stopped moving between the two of you. Instead choosing to come to a full stop on you as his brother’s words fully sank in.

Those warm brown eyes you loved going from worried and questioning to a cautious warm hope as you sat stunned. Left unable to move or speak through the cottonmouth that followed Dean’s impromptu stolen confession on your behalf.

You were rooted to your seat in shock as your eyes just numbly watched Sam. Your mind reeling as you tried to get your brain to catch up to the lightning fast development orchestrated by your best friend. Dean Winchester had just ousted you to your crush. That and…

Wait.

Did he say Sam was in love with you too?

“Wha…” Sam stopped himself from even attempting to speak through the shock as his voice broke over the very first word. Clearing his throat, his warm hazel eyes instead searched yours across the table. The careful question they asked louder than your own frantic heartbeat, as you forced your body to listen to you again.

Taking a shaky breath, you gave the man you’d been in love with for years a shy smile. The small gesture enough to make the eyes of the man you’d spent countless days, and nights, daydreaming about brighten. His own small, hesitant smile quickly grew as the mixture of your smile and his brother’s words fully sank in. Your own smile just as easily growing to echo it as you finally fully realised it was true.

Sam loved you too.

The few seconds of sweet silence as you just marveled at that fact, were just as rudely interrupted by your best friend as your years of quiet pining had been. The older hunter easily brought your attention back to him from where you’d been getting lost in Sam’s eyes with a fake tired sigh. Though you couldn’t make yourself stay angry at your very own cupid in a ratty AC/DC t-shirt.

“There! You’re both in love and you’re both welcome. Now maybe we can get some work done here huh?” Dean’s cocky smirk and fake scoff made you want to elbow him in the stomach. Yet your body was still not done catching up with you as you simply rolled your eyes at your best friend’s antics. “I guess thank yous are in order huh? To me I mean…”

“Oh, how can we ever repay you,” The sarcastic words that left Sam, underlined and punctuated by a trademark annoyed glare, beat your own by just a fraction of a second. Both of you still only glanced over at the other hunter in the room as you kept getting drawn back to each other. To marvel at the miracle that was mutual feelings.

“You can be my wingman any time,” Dean laughed from somewhere next to you. Though you didn’t turn to look at him, as you instead focused on Sam’s annoyed reaction to the movie quote. The way his brow furrowed and how his hand went up to pinch at the bridge of his nose sending little electric shocks through you. Yeah, you were a goner, anything the younger Winchester did had your heart racing.

“Dean, this isn’t Top Gun... You better not have planned all of this just so you could say that quote,” The younger Winchester shot back, eyeing his brother with slight wary suspicion. The words finally made you tear your eyes off Sam as you turned to throw an incredulous look towards your best friend.

The older hunter answering your suspicions, not in words, but in actions. As he laughed out loud and took the words as his cue to flee the room.

“Really Dean?!”

Your tired outrage mirrored Sam’s as you responded in unison to the quickly retreating back of one Dean Winchester. Though, where you couldn’t help but laugh, Sam was clearly sulking at his brother's antics, which only served to squeeze at your heart a little more.

As Dean retreated and your laughter died down, the library grew silent once more. Both Sam and you unsure where to go from there. Feelings had been voiced, but not from either of you. And so, a part of you was still hesitant to act on what you knew you felt, and now were pretty damn sure Sam felt too.

Clearing your throat, you looked into Sam’s warm brown eyes again. Looking to borrow some courage from one of the bravest men you knew as you readied yourself to speak words you’d never planned on saying out loud to anything but your bedroom ceiling.

“So…” Cursing your own cowardice you simply looked down. Trying to find the words in the palms of your hands and finding nothing but air and shaky fingers.

From somewhere across from you, you heard the tell-tale sign of a chair pulling away from the library table and, within just a few seconds, Sam’s hand was on yours. Placing strength, feelings and a piece of his heart in your hands as he crouched by your chair, looking up at you through your curtain of (Y/H/C) hair.

“You love me…” Sam whispered. The words were not exactly a question, yet not exactly a statement. They fell somewhere in between. Inside that little piece of magic and marvel that was softening the whole moment in cotton candy sweetness.

“I love you,” You said, adding that final layer of truth that brought substance and sincerity to your feelings. Your voice shaking over unexplored emotions as you watched Sam’s eyes grow impossibly bright and warm. The hunter still kneeling by your chair looked as if he was finding the shape of a new religion and some form of worship in your revelation. Awe and wonder making the beautiful man look younger as his eyes crinkled from another wide smile.

“And… You love me,” You added, still slightly hesitant as you watched Sam’s hand raise from his side to gently brush your hair out of your eyes and behind your ear. His fingers lingering against your skin and tracing the shape of your jaw, as if to convince himself you were real.

“I do. I love you,” Sam’s voice was thick with emotion as he straightened up until he was eye level with where you were sitting. His forehead bumping against yours with a wry smile as he drowned in your eyes and you his. “I guess we’re both cowards huh?” He added with a breathy chuckle. His words barely above a whisper yet reaching you easily where you rested your forehead against his.

“Yeah…” You laughed. A careful smile building as you glanced down and took his hand in yours, painting small circles on his palm. Still not used to being that open about your feelings, you hid in the simple pattern as you confessed a little more. “But… I’m too happy to care,”

“Me too,” Sam’s sincere words were a bit louder as he moved to sit on a chair next to you, pulling your chair closer until your knees were between his. “I just can’t believe it… You love me,” He added with a marveled whisper. Looking at you like you were the most precious part of his existence. Like everything, all the bullshit, pain and suffering, had been building up to this. To well-deserved happiness.

His warm smile shifted into something more careful and slightly deeper as he slowly leaned in. Hazel eyes dipping to trace the shape of your lips and his teeth grazed his own. A big hand raised to gently trace the shape of your jaw as he softly angled your lips up towards him. Just seconds away from the kiss you’d been dreaming about since… Well, what felt like forever.

“And, as the music swells, Sam Winchester leans in... Ready to wrap (Y/N) in his warm embrace…” Your best friend and much-loved pain in your side, Dean Winchester, was putting on his best movie trailer voice in a poor attempt at narration. Easily interrupting the sweet moment just as you could feel Sam’s warm breath like the ghost of a kiss to brush against your lips.

Sighing, you felt Sam’s forehead drop against yours again. Both of you shared an annoyed look before you squeezed your eyes shut and called out to the man who was simultaneously the best and the worst wingman in history.

“Dammit Dean!”

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