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#dean still loves pie
casdeans-pie · 9 months
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Dean, whispering to the Angel in bed beside him who literally cannot sleep: Cas. You awake?
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demons-i-get · 22 days
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WAIT BIG BRAINED THOUGHT:
Sam does smth stupid hoping Dean won't find out.
Someone rats Sam out to Dean.
Sam gets in trouble and a lecture from Dean (bc Dean is a parent and he is Sam's parent I will not accept criticism on this matter).
Later, Sam makes a group chat consisting of everyone who could have told on him to Dean and just sends this video:
#supernatural#spn#dean winchester#sam winchester#dean winchester is sam winchester's parent#and i will be accepting NO criticism on this matter!!!!#dean raised sam and in my heart i just know that its smth they dont really talk abt but they both 100% know and acknowledge it#and sam (the annoying little brother/kid) that he is to dean definitely calls dean 'mom' sometimes especially when hes being a little shit#but sam also loves his big brother and appreciates everything deans done and given up for him#so every year dean gets a pie and a little homemade card on mother's day and father's day from sam#when they were younger sam would give dean the card and actually say 'happy mother's/father's day dean' but once theyre older sam starts#sneaking the pie and card into dean's room or leaving them somewhere he knows dean will find them and neither of them say anything but dean#always gives sam a soft smile and usually a hug too before they continue w/ their day like its any other#the year dean spends w/ lisa and ben while sam's in hell/running around soulless ben makes dean a father's day card and dean gets all teary#and thanks him but then later when hes alone he just breaks down sobbing bc it just remimds him that sammy is gone#even when sam was at stanford and not really talking to dean he still sent dean a short message (text email voicemail whatever) on mother's#and father's day but now hes gone and dean wont even get that#btw dean def saves all of the cards sam's made him over the years and once theyre in the bunker he keeps them all in a special box that he#hides under his bed and he'll pull it out and look through them when hes having a bad day alongside the box of pictures <3#i did not mean to go insane in the tags here but oh well#enjoy my silly post and unhinged rambling ig
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wolfie180g · 2 months
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Dragon!Dean Loves Pie Day!
Happy 3.14 PI Day!
I don't think Dean is able to hide his stolen dinner from the rightful owner of that Pot Pie...
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philippeauguste · 8 months
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Why can’t I just move on from the ending of Supernatural? That’s the question I’ve been asking myself for… well… years now 🥲
I watch a lot of shows, I’m not a writer but I’m used to pay attention to the narrative, the subtext and I often know where the story is going.
And I was SO sure I had it right with Dean and Castiel’s relationship. I had been a casual fan. I watched all the seasons but most of them not right away. I was decently invested. And then season 14 and season 15 hit me in the face, and I saw that incredible love story, Destiel. Or so I thought.
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I rewatched most episodes and it felt like an awakening. And I followed each episode of season 15 religiously, deconstructing the lines, the music, the subtext.
I felt amazing, like a little kid about to open a present. Couldn’t wait for the finale. Partly because it all made me feel special, made me feel like I had seen it, something carefully hidden between the lines. Glaringly obvious for observant fans like me. And so many people would not see it coming. How surprised (and hopefully happy) they would be to see Destiel happening at the end of the season!!! But I knew, I saw, i expected. I could barely contain my excitement.
Then I watched the finale. I kept vibrating with joy and, I have to admit, smugness 😅 during half the episode. I though that it was pretty bad and cliche because it was supposed to be. But that twist, that reunion, Destiel, would blow our mind. The show would leave an everlasting mark on history of TV. We were about to witness an ending for the Ages. To say that it didn’t go well is an understatement. I guess I’ll use a euphemism and say that the ending… defied my expectation?
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By the end of the finale, my heart was in my throat. I was so disappointed. Literally felt the same as having to come to term with my lover cheating on me. I felt so stupid.
I can’t really let it go, there’s a big part of me that still think that I was right. It was the story. Something must have happened. Now it’s been years, and it still makes me feel small and sad. I need to hear that I’m not delusional to move on.
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strangenewgirls · 1 year
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i'm pro human cas destiel endgame because i don't want him to live on eternally after dean dies because that makes me cry
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Happy Halloween to all my fellow Community fans.
Here you go.
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You’ve Never What? (Dean Winchester)
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Description: Y/N has never rode anyone’s face before and Dean is shocked.
Warning: Face Riding, Age Gap
Word Count: 1,531k
I sat at the table eating alongside Dean and Sam. I made us mac and cheese because we’ve been having take out all week and I wanted something different. The boys and I were pretty close, almost like a family but I certainly didn’t view them as family. They were both so hot but one of them caught my eye more than the other. Dean. He was older than me, sure but only 14 years. He was strong and muscular and oh my god his voice? I could get off to the sound of him talking. He was so hot and he knew it which was why he talked to the why he did. Anytime he saw a pretty woman he had to voice it and say what dirty things he wanted to do to her.
It made Sam and I roll my eyes but we were rolling them for different reasons. Sam was annoyed and didn’t wanna hear his brother talk about that stuff and I was annoyed he wasn’t talking about me. But why would he? He probably has zero interest in me. “Y/N are you okay?” I snapped out of it and looked at Sam. “Yeah sorry.” I said and went back to eating. “Man, I would love to be on the beach right now with some hot chicks.” Dean said. Sam and I look at him. “A hot girl sitting on your face. It’s the dream isn’t it?” I shrugged at him. “I don’t know, I've never done it.” I said.
Sam looked at me with his eyebrows raised and Dean’s jaw dropped. “You never what?” He asked in shock. I shrugged. “Being with you guys the past 5 years I haven’t really had time.” I say. “Before then?” He asked. I shook my head. “Well sweetheart if you want to just ask.” He said. It was my turn to be shocked and I squeaked out a “what?” Sam got up with his bowl and walked to his room. I didn’t blame him. “If you ever want to experience it just ask.” My face was red. “Oh come on. I see how you look at me sweetheart. I’m not an idiot.” He says. I just stare at him too shocked and embarrassed to even process what is going on. “Dean, what if this ruins our friendship?” I asked after a few minutes. “I won’t let it.” He says. How could he be so sure? “You can’t know that it won’t.” I whisper. He gets up with his bowl. “The offer still stands.” He shrugs. 
I sat in my room on my bed thinking about what he said, what he offered. It would be a dream but at what cost? I didn’t use to do anything and it would be awkward after. I had a pretty good relationship with him, I didn’t want that to be over because of hormones. I really liked Dean too. I didn’t just want us to do sexual stuff, I wanted something real with him. But the more I thought about it the more I realized what if this was my only opportunity to be with him in any way? If he thinks it won’t affect our relationship then maybe it won’t.
A knock at the door snapped me out of my thoughts again. I got up from my bed and opened the door revealing the man I was just thinking about. “Hey Sam bought some pie if you want some.” He suggested. “Yeah sure.” I say and walk out of my room. I followed him into the kitchen where the pie was. It looked and smelled delicious. “You want me to get you a slice?” He asked, grabbing a knife to cut the pie with. “Yes please.” I say. I sat at the table and watched as he cut two slices of the pie for us. He brought them over and sat down next to me. “Thank you.” I say and start eating the pie.
We ate in silence for a while but I was thinking too much about the conversation earlier. Dean seemed to notice. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” He said. I looked at him. He didn’t make me uncomfortable, just made my feelings worse. I shook my head. “No you didn’t but I think…I wanna take you up on your offer.” I say. “Are you sure?” He asked. I nodded. “Yes.” Before I could say or do anything he leaned over and kissed me. Catching me off guard. It took me a minute but I kissed back. Our lips moved together at the table and he pulled me closer. His arms wrapped around me pulling me into his lap. I straddled him as our lips didn’t stop. My hands run through his hair and his hands run up and down my back. Wherever Sam was I only hoped that he didn’t walk in on this. I pulled at his shirt wanting him to take it off. He pulled away from the kiss. “Not here. In my room.” He said against my lips.
I nodded and got off him. He took my hand and dragged me to his room. He closed the door and took off his shirt revealing his beautiful body to me. “Take off your clothes, sweetheart.” He told me. I took off my big shirt revealing my matching bra and panties to him. I looked at him as he walked up to me. “Wow. You’re so beautiful.” He says and cups my face. I stare at him and look at his lips as he leans down and kisses me. This was a different kiss than the one we had in the kitchen. This one was more passionate and slow and not so lustful. I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned up to deepen the kiss. “Jump.” He mumbled into the kiss. He caught me and I wrapped my legs around him. He turned us around and fell onto the bed with me on top. I pulled away to catch my breath. His eyes stared into mine and his hands ran up and down my thighs. “Take off your panties.” He tells me and I do, throwing them somewhere in his room. I straddled him once more and he tugs me up his body.
My nerves grew as I got closer and closer to his face. He smirked up at me and my breath got heavier. “It’s okay sweetheart.” He tells me in a soft voice. I nodded and he helped me to where I was hovering over his face. I looked down at him and I saw my juices drip onto him. I gasped in embarrassment and went to apologize. “No need. Your juices are going to be all over my face.” He winks. I let out a breath I was holding in and he lowered me onto his face. I gasp as I feel his hot breath tickle my area and his nose settle on my clit. “Fuck.” I gasped. His tongue began swirling my hole making me let out a little moan.
I didn’t have anything to grasp onto so I laced my fingers through his hair. His tongue entered me a little, making me moan louder than I wanted to. His hands that were gripping my hips started moving me. My clit was dragging on his nose and his tongue was moving in and out of me. My moans grew as I let myself ride his face. Though his tongue couldn’t go super deep into me but it still felt good. His nose was perfect for riding and I took a mental note of that. With my clit constantly bumping into it my high was very close. I moan his name over and over like I was praying to the man below me.
He hummed against me making vibrations course through me. “Dean fuck i’m really really close.” I whimpered. He sped up his movements and within seconds I came all over his tongue and nose. My hips stuttered on his face as I rode my high. Once I became over sensitive I pushed myself off his face with shaky legs. He helped me stay up as he smirked at me. I gasped seeing his face covered in my orgasm. He licked his lips and hummed. “Are you okay?” He asked me. I nodded and chuckled. “Yeah definitely.” He helps me off him and I collapse next to him. “I’m glad you enjoyed that.” He winked.
I laughed and looked up at the ceiling. “That really was amazing.” I whispered. “You can have my tongue and nose anytime you want.” He tells me. I looked over at him and he was already looking at me. “I know that I talk about women a lot and I know you and Sam hate it but I really like you and I want something more than just this.” He motioned to what we just did. I was shocked that he returned my feelings. “I like you too Dean. And yeah I was hoping that this wouldn’t have been a one time thing either.” I say. He smiles and leans in and kisses me.
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thatoneyanderewriter · 5 months
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Deception
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pairing: yandere!coriolanus snow x everdeen!reader
summary: it’s the things we love the most that destroy us.
warnings: yandere behavior, stalking, implied murder, violence, delusion, possessive!snow(as in VERY possessive) unhealthy relationships, superiority complex, narcissistic tendencies.
a/n: I love Lucy gray okay? but she didn’t exist in this! Just for the plot btw. also more yandere tbosas characters to come!
Coriolanus liked to think that he was always on top. Snows were, after all, very prominent. That was what was keeping him going in life. His name.
This mentorship would be the key to his future. He had already decided he wanted to be the President of Panem, another way for him to gain control.
He first notices you at the reaping. Not physically. But it’s programmed live, so everyone could see. You stood out. Maybe not on purpose, but to him you did.
“District 12 Girl is Y/N Everdeen.”
The Mayor looked smug. You look over to a smug redhead. He wondered what past you shared with her. And you stood tall and confident. You kept your expression the same as you walk.
The redhead screamed, as the mayor called for help. That was revenge. But you didn’t do anything else, as you stood, the Mayor slapped you so hard you were off of your knees.
But you made no reaction as you stood back up, giving the mayor a warm smile as he was taken away. This was your opportunity, sure. You went over to the mic simply said,”Thank you, hope you enjoyed the show!”
Stepping back, You bowed, and added,”I hope you’ll enjoy my show just as much as I do!” You acted as if the audience was cheering, but it was silence.
The Peacekeepers shove you inside as Jessup is announced as the District 12 Male. You shake hands and that’s one of the last moments of the reaping he sees of you.
To be honest, receiving District 12 was a slap to the face. It was the small, joke district. It was clear Dean Highbottom had something against him, giving it to him on purpose.
In fairness, Coriolanus had made fun of him with friends behind his back, but still. It wasn’t fair. His petty resentment shouldn’t intertwine with his work.
But, you had some sort of gift. One he’d use to his advantage when it came to winning the games. And clearly, people liked you.
“I’ll have to admit, Coriolanus, you’ve gotten lucky, His fellow classmate, Hilarius teased. “I have, He replied proudly, having placed his plate next to Clemensia, He spots pie and immediately goes after it.
He hadn’t had Apple Pie in quite some time. The thought of it made his stomach growl. When all of a sudden, Dean Highbottom placed a bogger slice on his plate.”Oh, take a big one. Growing boy like you can handle it.”
Coriolanus grins at him. Thank you, sir. I can always find room for pie.” The Dean responds, “Yes, pleasures are never hard to accommodate, No one would know better than I.”
He never liked Dean Highbottom. He probably only had his position due to his fame of creating the hunger games.
The conversation sent chills down Coriolanus’ spine when Dean Highbottom spoke the words,”Look at you, in your makeshift shirt and your too-tight shoes, trying to hold it together. Strutting around the Capitol, when I doubt the Snows have a pot to piss in. Even with a prize, it would be a stretch, and you don’t yet have one, do you? What then, I wonder, would happen to you? What then?”
The next morning, Coriolanus stood at the Train Station. After hearing about the arrival of the tributes, he felt it was best to see you personally. A start that most hadn’t jumped to.
This made him feel more confident. And in his hand was a white rose, one from his grandmother’s garden. It was Tigris who suggested bringing a gift. And his cousin was never wrong, most of the time at least.
The train was a bit late but when you arrived, didn’t run per se, but rushed over to you, rose in hand. “Welcome to the Capitol, He greeted you.
You look up at him.”You shouldn’t be here, well, you don’t look like you do.” “I probably shouldn’t, He admits. You laugh a little, but aren’t scared. You don’t trust him right away of course.
“So then, What’s a Capitol boy like you doing around here? You ask, eyeing his clothing. “I’m your mentor, He said.”And I wanted to know you without the Capitol.”
“Hm, a rebel, You teased, taking the rose from him.”Does everyone have a mentor?” “Yes, but the others are waiting I suppose, He winked.
Coriolanus was intrigued. You were a bit more bold and confident than he expected. But the reaping showed a little bit of that.
“What does my mentor do besides bringing roses? You joke. “I do my best to take care of you, He said.”Coriolanus Snow.”
“I’m sure, if you’re my mentor, you know my name, but I like yours, You compliment.”And good luck, by the way. A lot of people don’t like me. Might try to kill you too.”
It was a clear joke, but Coriolanus was still puzzled. How could anyone hate you? You weren’t dangerous by any means, and the confidence you had became attractive to him, almost.
You expect to go on by yourself, but Coriolanus joins beside you, being shoved into the platform. He did so much for you, and maybe you should’ve done more. Then, you saved his life. Out of oath and a sense of guilt. And the fact you wanted to help people, not do the opposite.
Eventually, The games ended. And while Coriolanus was certainly relieved. Dean Highbottom found out about his little favor to help you win.
He just had to see you one last time. To say that he had grown infatuated was an understatement. You just were very charming, and sweet. Naive, even. Maybe not from your eyes, but his? Definitely.
“Are you okay? You ask.”You seemed urgent when you asked to meet up.” It was secret, just like your relationship.
“They’re punishing me, He said.”I don’t know if I’ll see you again. I cheated to help you win.” “I would’ve done the same, Coryo, You remind him.”Besides, I owe you. What’s your punishment?”
He could either lie, or tell you the truth. See, he always felt like you needed to be saved by him. He was superior, in a way. Of course he loved you, but he wanted to protect you too.
“I’m going to be a Peacekeeper for 20 years, He admits.”Protocol, but at least I won’t suffer humiliation.”
You chuckle.”I know, Coryo. I’d rather suffer humiliation than be a Peacekeeper. Will I see you again?” He replied,”I don’t know.”
But when you kiss him, it feel incredible. You loved him so. And from your eyes, he loved you too, yet it didn’t change your confidence and boldness.
He was well aware that you would’ve stood up for what’s right. You were an Everdeen. A family of that, according to you.
But truthfully, he insisted on district 12. “Well, they’re sending me back too, Coryo, You tell him.”Might pick up on more jobs to survive.”
He kissed you roughly one last time. Even though he was sure he’d see you again. Maybe without your knowledge.
When you came home, you did as you said. You picked up on more jobs. And when he first was there began following you, more like stalking you, but he was protective of you, his girl, he’d say to himself.
He didn’t want anyone else to have you. And he knew his silly infatuation became an Obsession. But this wasn’t new. Not in the slightest.
You began singing a little at the Hob, alongside the Covey, a group of musicians. You didn’t sing too much, he notices.
But when you did sing, you sang beautifully. You always sang what you felt. And he admired it. One night, however, you noticed him. But made a small reaction, turning back to the song.
When you ended, you rushed over.”Coryo. Didn’t expect to see you here.” “Surprised? He teased. “A little, You admit.”But, I knew you would. It wasn’t too much of a surprise. Nice buzz cut.”
He laughed, your fingers brushing over his shaved head. He’d miss his curls, but they’d return. “Where’s Sejanus? You ask.
You find him within the crowd, and start up a conversation. However, the night ends with you and Coriolanus, like how he wanted.
His ever growing possessiveness for you was showing a little, his grip on your hand was strong. You didn’t care, though. Not at first. You might not see him again. Or rarely.
Your judgement was clouded by the feeling of Love. A feeling many experience at your age. “Y/N, A voice said drunkenly.
You turn, annoyance in your tone.”What? I know exactly why you’re here.” Your former lover, well, truthfully, a one-sided crush at that. He just thought you were lovers.
He'd believe Mayfair over you, on a lie. that was it for you. “Come on, I miss what we had! He whines. “As if it was anything special, You scoffed.”See, if you hadn’t believed that redhead, it would’ve been just fine. She tried to kill me!”
Coriolanus wouldn’t admit it, at least to you, but he was fuming. His jaw clenched, and obvious signs of frustration. You soothe him, or try to. “Coryo, he’s an idiot, You say, assuringly.
“Ah, your new victim? Your former friend said jokingly, but anger in his voice.”She’s just using you, like with me.”
And that seemed to be it. You could only watch as his fists landed on his face. Stumbling back, he groans.”What the-“ Coriolanus wasn’t done. Now relying on his anger, jealousy, and bloodlust. He punched his jaw, so badly that by the time he was done, which was after a few times, his knuckles were bleeding, and blood landed on him.
Clearly, he was good as dead. This was a side you hadn’t seen before. But nonetheless, You couldn’t react. “Coryo… You could only say. And as he looks up, he hugs you, a bit more passionately than usual.
“You were never here. Go. I can handle it.”
You decide on listening. He wasn’t even really suggesting, but rather ordering. And you didn’t want to stay a moment longer.
Truthfully, He felt a sense of power, and control when he was punching him. You were his, not your former friend’s. He had to make sure of that.
It was a swift process, he had killed before, technically having no other choice but still, he was worried you wouldn’t forgive him. Or tell someone. That would ruin his future.
Of course, it didn’t mean he regretted doing so. He loved the feeling he got. The violence itself he enjoyed. And the way he spoke of you, it was justified. He shouldn’t have talked to you like that.
“Coryo, are you alright?”
Hearing your voice, his head spins. Your voice was like a bell to him. “I’m fine, are you? He hurt you? Coriolanus asked in response.
You shake your head.”He’s done this before. He may have hurt me once, but not again.” It was stupid, in your eyes. It wasn’t like he was a lover of yours, just your best friend. You thought he’d choose you over Mayfair, who clearly had her eyes on him.
Which wouldn’t be a problem, if she wasn’t a bitch. “As long as I’m here, Nobody will hurt you, Coriolanus assured you. You smile.”I know. And that’s why I love you, Coryo. Always there for me. I owe you big time.”
You owed him, and he’d never let you forget that. You belonged to him, and nobody else. You better remember that.
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kaleldobrev · 6 months
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Midnight Confessions
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Dean have a "heart-to-heart" conversation on the way to Stanford to pick up Sam
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: Cursing (1x), Fluff
Authors Note: I've been wanting to use this gif for something for such a long time and I finally found a way to use it | Takes place pre-season one | I've been really enjoying writing pre-season one fics lately! | Can be read as a “sequel” to Comfortable? or as it's own one-shot | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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“Good morning Sweetheart,” Dean said, as he noticed your movements were starting to get a little bit more prominent than they had been previously when you were sleeping.
When you awoke, you were surprised to still be in the exact same spot and position as you were in when you had fallen asleep: your head in Dean's lap, and the soles of your boots pressed up against the passenger side door. "Morning Handsome," you replied back, giving him a soft smile. "How long was I out for?"
"Couple of hours," he said. "You were mumbling quite a bit. What were you dreaming about?"
"You're going to think it's stupid," you said all too quickly, slightly embarrassed of the dream you had just had. It was nothing awful or terrible by any means; it was actually one of the most peaceful dreams you've had in a while, well...at least the one you could actually remember at least. But part of the reason you didn't want to tell your boyfriend about it was because you knew how he felt about the white picket fence life. "I'd rather blow my brains out," he's told you on more than one occasion. But it was a life that you dreamed of — and dreamed of doing with him someday.
"I promise I won't think it's stupid," he told you, trying to be reassuring. He briefly looked at you, flashing you his charming smile that you had loved so much before looking back at the road again.
You sighed, before getting up from your position on his lap; moving so your back was now pressed up against the passenger side door. This way, you could have a better angle when you told him about the dream you just had — a better angle to see the disappointment and judgement from him. Because you knew, despite this promise of his, you knew him all too well, knew that he would just laugh. “I dreamed that me and you lived in one of those blue suburbans and I was baking you an apple pie while you watched a Cowboys game on the tv.”
Silence was Dean’s chosen response. At least he’s not laughing, you thought. But you hated the silence that he was giving you as well, because accompanying that silence, his hands started to grip the wheel, causing his knuckles to turn white. “Oh yeah?” He finally said, his tone coming off rather calmer than you had expected him to sound.
You looked down at your hands as you started twiddling your thumbs, almost embarrassed at the confession you had made. “I know it’s stupid, trust me.”
“It’s not stupid,” he said, briefly meeting your gaze. “It’s just…unrealistic for people like us,” his tone sounding much more disappointed now, like there was a part of him that had wanted that kind of life. And the truth was, there was a part of Dean that had wanted that life. Wanted a suburbia life. And wanted that kind of life to be with you. But he knew it was a life that he could never have. It was simply just out of his reach. “People like us don’t get white picket fences. We get broken bones and near death experiences.”
You knew that Dean was right; how unrealistic this dream of yours was. To others, it was their normal, but to you it was foreign, a fantasy. “You say that like it’s impossible,” you began. “We’re both still young Dean. We can still get out, sanity still in tact.”
“Y/N, hunting is all I’ve ever known. I’ve been on the road with Sammy and my dad since I was four years old,” his voice starting to sound full of hurt, but with a hint of exhaustion. “The only home I’ve ever known was burnt down and it took my mom along with it.”
“But this is your dads fight Dean, not yours,” you said, trying to be very cautious of your wording. “He should have never dragged you into this crusade of his. He should have given you and Sammy a choice in the matter.” When it came to Dean, he wasn’t very forthcoming with his background. You knew the basics about how him and his family had gotten into hunting, but you never pried as you felt like it wasn’t necessarily your place; his mothers death always being a touchy subject with him. Which you understood, as your own mother died in a house fire similar when you were six months old. But the difference was, your father gave you the choice if you wanted to be a hunter or not. A choice you made when you turned 18.
There was silence between the two of you as Dean refused to look at you, as he was too deep in thought. He wanted to scream at you, tell you to mind your own business. Tell you that you should understand. But he knew that there was no point in yelling at you, no point in getting upset, because as much as he hated to admit it…you were right. “You know, growing up, I wanted to be a firefighter,” Dean said, finally breaking the silence. “But I know that’ll never be in the cards for me.”
“It still can be,” you commented. “I think you’d make a pretty great one.”
You saw him grin from your comment briefly before his face turned stoic again. “I gotta find out what killed our moms first.”
“And then you’ll become one?” You asked, still entertaining the idea with him.
He shrugged. “Maybe,” he grinned again. “How about you? What did you want to do?”
“Veterinarian,” you confessed. “Animals are much better than people.”
“I heard you have to be really smart to do that,” he said turning to look at you.
“Well it’s a good thing I was an AP kid in school,” you grinned.
“Fucking nerd,” he said, letting out a small chuckle, before patting your thigh.
“But I’m your nerd,” you smiled.
“You bet your ass you are,” he smiled back, giving you a wink.
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insanesonofabitch · 7 months
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How am I supposed to function like a normal human being when I’ve been made aware of the existence of destiel? Everytime I get close to being slightly functional, I’m reminded of shit like how someone wrote a script wherein Cas gets his very own personal heaven—a room full of half-naked pictures (some real and some badly edited) of Dean Winchester. Or how later on in the series, in another script draft of another episode, Cas gets shown another “heaven on earth” scenario where he spreads his wings full while, for some reason, specified to be shirtless in front of Dean. Or how Dean was supposed to confess his love to Cas way back in season 8. Or how his relationship with Benny and the then presumed dead Cas is paralleled to Amelia’s relationship with Sam and her then presumed dead husband. “Are we still talking about Sam, or did you break up with someone too?” Or how Dean was supposed to relive the life of Cain in reverse and kill Cas like Cain killed his wife Colette, while Cas and Colette are paralleled to each other, with how they both ask Dean and Cain to stop the killings right as they’re about to die by the hands of the ones they love. Or how they made several people imply and straight up tell Dean and Cas to their faces that they’re in love with each other and not once, not once does any of the both of them ever deny it. And how several times, over and over again, their enemies use this “more profound bond” against them. “You’re hoping Castiel would return to you. I admire your loyalty. I only wish he felt the same way.” “But then, his true weakness is revealed.” “Don’t lose it over one man.” “I’m gonna cure you of your human weakness.” “You blast me away you blast away every angel in the room.” “There comes a point where every relationship has run its course.” “Oh sweet. Cas, he’s dead. All the way dead. Because of you.” “There is nothing for you back there.” Or how Dean subtly references a queer movie while referring to Cas and himself as the queer main characters of the said queer movie…who were, by the way, in a relationship with each other. Or how they made Cas confess but killed him right off, and then soon later killed Dean off and implied he doesn’t pursue romantic relationships ever again, and never have him actually experience the life outside the “hamster wheel” that he fought for because they knew he could NEVER be happy living the unnamed wife one kid “normal” apple-pie life that they originally planned for him.
Or how part of the people behind this show actually fought for their story to be told because you CANNOT make all of this without someone, at the very least one person actively writing, portraying, or depicting them with the intention of telling a queer love story.
And then what? So I’m just supposed to ignore and gloss over and move on from all of this along with so much more like the show already did on the regular?
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roosterforme · 4 months
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Adult Education Part 16 | Hangman x OC
Summary: Every sleepover with Jessica leaves Jake wanting more of her. More time making love, more time reading, more time cooking for her. But when a brilliant scheme is dropped on her lap, Jessica is about to have a little less time to spend with her boyfriend.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral, angst, mention cheating, 18+
Length: 4300 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC
This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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Jake was absolutely certain he'd never been happier than he was at this moment. Jessica was sitting on the kitchen stool next to him, moaning softly in her dishevelled clothing as she ate the chicken pot pie he made for her. His fingers were loosely tangled with hers, and she kept leaning closer to kiss him after she took a few bites. 
He knew she'd been having a bit of a rough week, so it was important to him that she was relaxed now, especially since he'd been part of the reason the past few days had been tiresome. He hadn't meant to jump her like a horny teenager as soon as she got to his place, but it seemed like neither of them could do much to stop themselves. When he told her he could barely go a day without seeing her, he wasn't joking. At this point, Jessica was a necessity.
"Why don't you take a long shower when you're done eating while I clean up?" he whispered as she took her last bite. 
She nodded and climbed from her own stool onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him before sliding to the floor. "I'll be back."
Her hair was a mess, and she still looked freshly fucked as Jake watched her walk away to his bedroom. When he heard her turn on his shower, he stood and started to clean up the kitchen. There was a lot of food leftover, but he also bought a lot of groceries in case she wanted something else. Part of him was planning on coaxing her to spend some time cooking with him, but he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself.
But they had time. Jake could take his time this weekend, just like he was going to take his time telling Jessica that he loved her. He didn't want to spook her again with this information, but telling her that a day apart was almost too much for him to handle was the beginning of his admission. It was the honest truth. Even now, just knowing she was in his bathroom had him heading in that direction.
He tapped on the door and poked his head into the steam filled room. "Mind if I join you?"
Jessica spun away from the spray of the shower and slid open the glass door, reaching out toward him with her wet fingers. Jake wrenched his shirt over his head and practically tore his sweatpants off to get to her as quickly as he could. 
"Why would I mind this?" she asked, raking her fingers through his chest hair as her temple came to rest on his shoulder. When he touched her arm, he could feel goosebumps even though the hot steam was dense; her reaction to him was always welcome, too. "Honestly, this is the best I have felt all week. Brian's taking a leave of absence, and I get to spend time with you."
Jake froze with his hands halfway up her back. "Brian is taking a leave of absence?" 
"Mmhmm."
"Is that... a good thing?"
Jessica kind of shrugged and then nodded. "I think so. I got an email from the dean asking me to cover one of his classes on Wednesday afternoons."
He considered her words. "Baby, that's amazing. They trust you to take on more work."
"Yeah," she said, crinkling up her nose, "but I still don't have tenure. And with Brian out, I can't even schedule a tenure review with him now that alumni weekend is over."
"Why didn't you tell me all of this as soon as you got here?"
She looked up at his face like he was one of her students who was failing a class. "Because, Jake, I got distracted by you. Obviously. Now why don't you tell me about your week?"
And once again, she amazed him by actually showing interest in what he had to say. Not only that, she called him smart when he talked about his jet's fuel ignition system. And after they got out of the shower, she asked him to read a journal to her. As Jessica was falling asleep, curled up with him on the couch, Jake took her glasses off so they wouldn't get smashed against her face. 
"I love this, Reedy," he whispered, kissing her forehead and making her smile. 
----------------------------
"Please tell me you know how to crack an egg," Jake groaned, standing behind Jessica in his kitchen the following day. He had his arms wrapped around her as they made waffle batter together, flour all over the counter and both of them.
She glanced up at him over her shoulder. "Do I look like I went to culinary school to you?"
"Baby," he laughed, reaching for the broken mess of egg shell next to the bowl and swiping it into the sink. "This isn't fine dining. It's a waffle."
"It's fine dining when you make it," she replied, and she was rewarded with Jake's lips on her neck. He hadn't shaved his face, and the scratch along her skin was completely addicting. His fingers dipped inside the neck of his shirt that she was wearing, and he kissed his way to her bare shoulder. "Can we go back to bed?" she whispered, rubbing herself back against him.
All she got was a smack on her butt and Jake's lips back up next to her ear. "No. I'm determined to teach you how to cook something." Jessica whined as he handed her an egg and cracked it with her, dumping it in the bowl of flour before tossing the shell. "See? Easy. Now do one yourself."
She picked up another egg, carefully cracked it, and then half the shell ended up in the bowl. "Oops."
"No, you did great," Jake told her as he fished the shell out of the batter. "I love crunchy waffles."
She groaned and tossed her head back as he laughed. "You're one of those people who is good at everything. You're really annoying, and nobody likes you."
"I know," he agreed, even though she was turning back to smile up at him. "I'm the worst. Now pick up the spoon and mix everything together."
She did as she was told, but frowned at the bowl. "Is it supposed to look so soupy?"
"Add more flour," he whispered as he kissed her ear. A chill went down her spine as his lips remained where they were, and Jake took her hand in his to scoop some more flour. "That's good. Keep mixing."
After another minute, she was shaking her head. "How is this supposed to turn into a waffle?"
"Magic."
And it kind of was magical, the way he made it look so easy. The batter was soon sizzling in the waffle iron, and Jake had her pinned against the counter with his hands up underneath her shirt. He was rubbing soft circles along her waist with his thumbs, and Jessica was enjoying the sight of him in nothing but his tented underwear. 
"Five minutes until the waffle is done," Jake crooned as one hand slipped down the front of her lacy, pink underwear. "Think that's enough time?"
"For what?" she gasped when his thumb found her clit. 
"Get my girl off," he muttered, kneeling in front of her and kissing her through the lace before pulling her underwear down to her mid thighs. 
The thing was, Jessica was certain he could do it in five minutes or less, because he'd done it before. Just not with his mouth. But as soon as his lips met her clit and she could feel his stubble all over her pussy, she was leaning back against the counter and whining for him. 
"Spread 'em wider, Baby," he whispered, kissing her thigh as she eased her legs a little further apart. "That's it. So pretty," he moaned before she felt his tongue glide from her opening up to her clit where he latched on and started sucking. The elastic of her underwear was digging into her thighs a little bit as he eased two thick fingers inside her.
The waffle smelled delicious, and Jake's mouth felt like heaven on her clit. But it was his fingers, thrusting so rapidly and so deep that had her practically shrieking. The muscles in his shoulder and bicep were taut as he finger fucked her sweet spot, but his face was calm and adoring as he looked up at her. As if he wasn't about to get her off in four minutes. As if he wasn't doing the Lord's work in his own kitchen with the waffle iron and with her pussy.
Jessica was pressed up on her tiptoes, shaking on the spot, subconsciously trying to get away from him while also pressing herself against his face. "Oh my god," she cried out, gripping the edge of the countertop, her hips rolling against his face of their own accord. She had lost control of herself as she came, gushing against his lips as her hips jerked. 
She watched him lick his lips as he stroked her clit with his thumb through her orgasm, bringing her to the brink of overstimulation before the timer on the iron went off. Jake hopped to his feet with ease, pressing a wet kiss to her lips before opening up the appliance and said, "Oh good. The waffle is done just like you are."
With a halfhearted glare, she pulled her underwear back up and watched him slice some strawberries for the topping. Two minutes later, she was sitting on the couch while he fed her bites of waffle, berries, and powdered sugar. "This is so good," she gasped. The waffle was crisp and golden brown on the outside, but it melted on her tongue. 
"You made it," he reminded her. "All I really did was cut up some fruit. Later, we can make dinner together, and I'll pack up little containers for you to take for your lunches."
Jessica threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking the plate out of his hand. "Thank you."
----------------------------
After spending Sunday playing dress up with Jake, Jessica finally headed home. But not until after she got to see him in his white uniform. And not until after he used his credit card to buy her three hundred dollars of new lingerie. "Next weekend should be even more fun," he crooned as he purchased all of it. 
Now it was late, and she was unloading her lunch containers into her refrigerator after texting him that she got home safely. His response came in the form of one sentence that made her belly swoop. 
Just remember, I can barely go a day without seeing you.
Had they progressed to mid week sleepovers? She thought maybe they had. And when she drove to work on Monday morning, she was contemplating asking him if he wanted to come over that night. She wasn't even thinking about work or Brian or any of it, because she was in such a pleasant haze from the weekend. 
When she plopped down at her desk with her lukewarm coffee, she put her container of homemade lasagna that she had helped cook in her mini fridge. She turned on her computer and mused that there probably wouldn't be a department meeting with no Brian Conley at work, and she smiled. She was still smiling as she finished her coffee and ate a granola bar while she looked through the offerings on a boutique website, searching for the perfect birthday gift for Jake. 
"Oh!" she gasped when she found what she was looking for. She wiled away her time before she had to give a lecture by picking out a pretty green frame to go with the art print. She could already picture it hanging on the wall outside his bedroom door. Just when she was entering her shipping information and credit card number, a loud knock interrupted her thoughts. 
"Come in," she said, her heart starting to race as she purchased the gift, but she calmed down right away when she saw who it was. "Advanced Calculus. How was your weekend?"
But the other woman was looking up and down the hallway suspiciously before she pulled the door closed and rushed toward Jessica's desk. "We don't have time to chat," she said in a loud, harsh whisper as she planted her palms on the desk.
"We don't?" Jessica asked softly, meeting her wide eyed gaze.
"No, we do not. Listen carefully, because we need to act quickly."
"Is something wrong?" Jessica asked, but her friend just shook her head and hit the desk with her palm a few times. 
"No! Now listen! Bradley had to drop me off a little early this morning, so I was in the math supply closet minding my own business when I saw Dr. Rosenthal walk by. And I said good morning. And then he said, 'It's always a good morning when you can calculate the area inside the donut you just ate,' just like he always does. Hmmm.... now I understand why Bradley likes it when I hang out with a very harmless old man at work...."
Jessica was gesturing for her to get to the point.
"Oh, yes, right! So, good old Walter Rosenthal stood there and looked at me like he had some hot gossip to share, which is wild, because I think he's at least seventy five, and he never talks about anyone. But I could tell. So, we stood there in the supply closet doorway, and he just unloaded about Brian."
"What did he say?" Jessica gasped. 
"That Brian is taking a leave of absence! Apparently his wife walked in on him and a TA. But since she's not his TA, the university doesn't even care." Jessica was about to tell her that she already knew all of this information, but she kept her mouth shut as she continued. "But the real kick in the ass is that Brian is suddenly taking time off to work on his marriage! His wife is making him!"
"Really?" Jessica asked, leaning closer. 
"Yes! And I didn't even get to the good part yet!" She was hitting the desk again as she jumped around. "You can thank me later for solving all your problems."
"I can?" Jessica asked, wishing she'd get on with it.
"Mmhmm. You see, Dr. Rosenthal just so happens to hold not just one, but two PhDs."
"He does?"
"He does! Mathematics and physics. Physics, Jessica! And he's going to be filling in as the interim head for the science department while Brian is off. And Dr. Rosenthal told me that he will be off for the rest of the month!"
"The rest of the month...." Jessica's gaze shifted away from her face when she realized it was only the second day of the month. Then she gasped. "The rest of the month!"
"Yes! And how long does it take to complete a tenure review?"
Jessica's heart was pounding so hard, she thought she was going to be sick, whether from nerves or excitement, she wasn't exactly sure. "Three to four weeks."
"Three to four weeks!" She was back to pounding on Jessica's desk as she whispered as loudly as anyone possibly could. "You need to get Rosenthal to review your tenure. And you need to get him to start it today."
"I can't ask him to do that," Jessica whispered as her heart sank. "It's so much work, and he's just an interim department head. And since he has tenure, they probably aren't even offering to pay him more for taking over."
"You can ask him, and you will! This is your chance. Anyone with half a brain can see how hard you work around here and how much your students appreciate you."
Jessica chewed on her lip and looked down at her lap. This was the kind of opening she'd spent the past year blindly hoping for. "I suppose he's got all the right credentials: he has a PhD in a scientific field, he's tenured, and he has more than ten years of teaching experience."
"Let's go," her friend said, still pounding on the desk. "Right now. Come on."
With a nod, Jessica was on her feet and reaching for her discarded suit coat. There really was no time to waste if she wanted this to get anywhere. But her hands were shaking on her way to the elevator, and she had a hard time pushing the button. "I'm nervous," she muttered, feeling like an idiot as she buttoned her jacket and ran her hands over the fabric. 
"There's no reason to be. I promise," her friend replied. "Rosenthal is very reasonable. I'll introduce you, and then you can chat and see what he has to say. The worst he can tell you is no."
Jessica had already subconsciously gotten her hopes up that this whole thing might work out, and when she reached his office over in the math building, she was starting to feel faint. He had to say yes. He absolutely had to. If he did, she would take back every mean thing she ever said about all of the old guys at this college. 
"Come in," called out a voice, and Jessica hadn't even realized that her friend already knocked on the door. Dr. Rosenthal looked a little stern at first in his reading glasses, but as soon as he saw who it was, he said, "It's a little early for lunch and curriculum talk, isn't it?"
"Dr. Rosenthal, have you met Dr. Reed? From the Physics department?"
He immediately stood and stuck out his hand, and Jessica felt a little bad shaking it with her clammy one. "Good morning, Dr. Rosenthal. It's nice to meet you."
"Yes, yes. But it's always a good morning when you can calculate the area inside the donut you just ate."
Jessica smiled, because apparently that was his go-to line. "A calculus joke? I like that. A good use of integration. But I prefer the physics version that claims a donut is fundamentally the same as a coffee mug."
"You know the topologist joke!"
"I'm pretty sure they don't let you have your physics PhD unless you do," she said with a tiny smile.
"Well, what can I do for the two of you?" he asked, glancing at his watch. "I need to meet with Dean Walters in thirty minutes, so I don't have very much time."
"I just informed Dr. Reed that you'll be taking over things in the science department for a few weeks while Dr. Conley is... unavailable."
Jessica had to swallow three times until her mouth felt wet enough to form actual words again. "And as a result, I hate to take up any more of your time, but my tenure review with Dr. Conley has been continually delayed. I was actually planning on talking to him about it again this morning, but that's when I heard he isn't even on campus right now." She was shaking slightly again; she never was any good at telling a lie, even a little white one.
"I'm not surprised," Rosenthal replied before pursing his lips in disgust. "Seems like he was busy doing other things, I suppose. Getting his work done was perhaps the last thing on his mind." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You still need to be reviewed again?"
Jessica shook her head. "I need to be reviewed for the first time, actually."
His brow furrowed. "How long have you been at the school?"
"Almost two years."
His eyebrows shot up. "Two years? And Dr. Conley never gave you a tenure review?" She started to shake her head, embarrassed all over again that she had managed to derail her own career by sleeping with him. Luckily Rosenthal saved her from having to speak just then. "Of course. Of course. It should have already been taken care of," he mumbled, shuffling papers around on his desk. "Just let me find my calendar."
The two women watched as he pulled out an enormous, old fashioned schedule keeper and a pen. Jessica's heart was beating so erratically now, she was afraid of what she would say if she opened her mouth. "I'm really rather booked up now, as I'm sure you can understand," he murmured. "But perhaps we can sit down together on Wednesday at lunchtime? I'll need a copy of your schedule to start with, and a copy of your students and their grades."
"I can have that to you this morning," she blurted out.
He smiled as he wrote in his calendar. "Ah, yes. I always did appreciate a professor who keeps up with their grades. The only other thing we will need is another tenured staff member with a PhD who won't mind writing a secondary report and signing off on my findings."
"I'll do it."
Jessica turned to look at her friend as tears welled in her eyes. It was one thing to ask Dr. Rosenthal to give up hours and days of his spare time to sit in on her lectures and critique everything and write a massive report, but this was something else entirely. It would eat up all of her spare time.
"No, I can't ask you to do that, Advanced Calculus," Jessica whispered as her vision blurred behind her glasses. 
"Okay, well you didn't ask. I offered," she replied with a completely neutral expression. 
Rosenthal looked between the two of them before saying, "That's settled then. Just get your schedule and your grade book to me later today, and expect to see me sitting in on your classes."
"Thank you," Jessica practically gasped, reaching to shake his hand again before she turned toward the other woman who was holding the door open for her. Once they were alone in the quiet hallway, her lips started shaking with unshed tears. "You didn't have to do that."
She just shrugged. "I'll have to be one hundred percent honest in what I write about, but I don't think that will be an issue. And... I don't think you fully appreciate how much I hate Brian Conley. Or how much I like you and want you to succeed." Jessica hiccupped as she tried not to cry while her friend started to walk away. "I have a Calculus lecture calling my name, but I'll talk to you later."
Jessica walked through the long corridor to the elevator and cried the entire way back to her office, but she felt better than she had in a very long time.
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Jake was eating lunch while Bradshaw talked his ear off about getting his Bronco detailed. If he wasn't actively putting food into his mouth, he would have fallen asleep. "That's fascinating," he murmured. 
"Right? I have one of the only 1973 models in pristine condition in the state. The whole state."
Jake tuned him out when his phone vibrated in his pocket, and relief washed over him when he saw it was a text from Jessica. Finally, something interesting. 
Any chance you want to meet me at Chippy's for a drink later? And many have a sleepover at my place?
He almost dropped his phone as he texted back as quickly as he could. A Sam Adams after work with his hot girlfriend? Absolutely. A sleepover during the week? Color him committed.
When he showed up at Chippy's at 6:30 just like she had suggested, the place was packed, but there was no sign of her. So he made his way up to the bar where Chippy just blinked at him as he wiped up a nonexistent spill with his towel. 
"Hi," Jake greeted. 
"She's not here," he replied. 
Jake nodded slowly. "She's meeting me soon. Can I get two pints, please?"
Chippy tossed the towel aside and grabbed two glasses, setting them down a little hard in front of Jake once they were full. Then he slid a dish of peanuts next to them while Jake took out his wallet. 
"Perfect," he drawled, handing Chippy a ten with a smile. "You have a nice night." He grabbed an empty hightop with two stools and settled in, nursing his beer and cracking a few peanuts open.
He smiled as he thought about the first time Jessica invited him to her little dive bar paradise. She'd been so excited to talk to him about her lecture and her journals. He'd probably fallen a little bit in love with her that night, if he was being honest. The longer he sat alone and waited, he was reminded of the night she thought he stood her up. If that five mile run had taken him any longer, he doubted he would be here today. 
It was like he could sense her before he saw her, and Jake was out of his seat as Jessica wove around the tables gracefully in her high heels to get to him. "Jake!" she gasped, pushing her glasses up her nose with the backs of her fingers before flinging her arms around his neck. 
"Hey, Smart Girl," he whispered, kissing her while Chippy kept a close eye on things. "Did you have a good day?"
She squealed before chasing his lips for another kiss. Just when things were on the verge of becoming a little too hot for their current setting, she released him with a big smile. "You'll never believe what happened!"
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I love Sugar. She's bestie material. She's everything. Let's make this happen! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 17
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holylulusworld · 7 months
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A thief at the bunker
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Summary: There is a thief at the bunker.
Pairing: Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Reader
Warnings: fluff, scenting, a/b/o, idiots in love, sneaky Castiel, possessive Sam, implied smut/mating
Square filled for @spnfluffbingo (expired): Idiots in love
Square filled for @warmandfluffybingocards: Bed-sharing 
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“Where are they?” you grumble. “I bought five new blankets, sheets, and new pillows. Now they are all gone.”
“What’s wrong sweetheart?” Dean pokes his head inside the room. “Do you need help? I was about to have a shower, but I’ll lend you a hand if you need me.” He grins when you throw him an angry look. “Whoa, what crawled up your ass.”
“Watch your tongue, Winchester,” you warn, and point your index finger at Dean. “I bet it was you.”
“Huh?” He cocks his head. “What are you talking about, Y/N? I don’t know what you want.”
“Have you seen the blankets I bought? I wanted to give one to Charlie when she comes to visit us this weekend. Now the blankets are all gone. We’ve got a thief at the bunker.”
“If it was pie or beer, I’ll be your man. But blankets and pillows are not my kind of poison,” he grins. “Maybe you simply misplaced them, Y/N. I can have a look at the guestroom if you want me to.”
“I came from the guestroom, Dean. I prepared it for Charlie, and only needed fresh sheets and one of the blankets for her. And now, they are all gone.”
Dean furrows his brows. “Maybe Cas needed them…no. He wouldn’t steal the blankets. I’m still not sure if he ever sleeps.”
“He’s a Netflix junkie,” you chuckle, but then you remember, you still need to find the blankets. “Crap. I don’t have the time or the money to buy new blankets. I need to find them.”
“Blankets?” Castiel joins you and Dean in the room. “I saw Sam carry a few blankets inside his room not so long ago. He snarled at me when I asked him if he needed my help.”
“Sam?” You gape at Castiel. “Why? He’s got a blanket, and I never took him for a blanket hoarder.”
“I’m not sure about it, sweetheart,” Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. “If we had to share a bed, he always stole the blanket. I woke up freezing more than once.”
“That fucker!” you growl. “How dare that man to steal my blankets.” Off you go to get your blankets and pillows back.
“There she goes,” Dean sighs. He glances at Castiel, who, to Dean’s surprise smirks darkly. “Cas, what’s the matter? Why the scary smirk?”
“Scary?” Castiel frowns. “I didn’t scare Y/N. I made sure she’ll find the blankets on Sam’s bed.”
“You want her to hurt my brother?” Dean swallows thickly. He wonders what Sam has done to deserve Castiel’s wrath. “What did Sammy do?”
Castiel sighs deeply. “They are pining for each other for years. I’ve had enough of watching them. So, I took matters into my own hands.”
The angel grins proudly.
Dean snorts. “You played matchmaker.” 
“It’s called heavenly intervention.”
“It’s called getting Sammy laid…”
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“You! Samuel blanket thief Winchester! I will kill you for stealing my blankets,” you growl, ready to attack Sam.
He looks at you like a deer in the headlights. The hunter tried to find out who brought all the blankets to his room when you stormed inside.
Now he believes you tried to nest on his bed, and his heart swells in his chest. 
“I knew you feel the same,” you end up in his arms, his face buried in your neck. You are too stunned to even react. Moments ago you wanted to scold him for stealing your blankets, and now he’s walking you toward his bed.
“Sam…” you try to fathom what’s going on as Sam tries to get you on his bed. “What? Sam!”
“You brought the blankets and pillows here so we can make a nest.” You end up on Sam’s bed, buried underneath the hunter. “We will take things slow. I’ll properly court you. I've got nice gifts for my omega. I bought a new flannel, and the pumpkin pillow you like so much.”
“Sam…” You pat his back, but he won’t move. Sam sniffs along your neck to catch your scent. “We will rub our scents into the blankets, and you can move into my room after we finish the nest.”
“Sam…SAMMY!”
“What? Oh,” he lifts his head to grin at you. “Do you want to mate first? I knew you were a dirty girl. Let me just lock the door. We don’t want Dean to walk in on us…”
“What? I—” You watch Sam get off the bed to lock the door. He throws his shirt across the room seconds later, smirking as you drink his naked chest in.
“Yeah?” He furrows his brows.
“Forget it,” you unbutton your shirt. “I like your plan…is all…”
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“You owe me fifty bucks, Dean,” Castiel smirks as the noises coming from Sam’s room leave little to nothing to his brother’s imagination. “I told you that all they needed was a heavenly intervention.”
“Tell you what Cas,” the hunter shudders hearing you mewl loudly. “We should leave the bunker, and I’ll drink the memory of the noises they made away…”
“I’ll accompany you, Dean. Maybe someone else needs my help too.”
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Birthday Pie
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist
SPOILERS! set between seasons 7 and 8 of supernatural, there are spoilers for both these seasons
summary: you celebrate his birthday even when he’s gone
pairing: dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 0.9k
warnings: sad, not at all a happy birthday for our beloved lil guy, language
author’s note: i’m sorry, okay? i’ve had this idea in my head for months and decided that today is a good day to release it? anyway, happy 45th birthday dean winchester! love you and very glad you’re alive and well and the series finale never happened! :)
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January 24th, 2013 — Dean’s 34th Birthday.
You were barely able to drag yourself out of bed and into the living room where you were now seated and watching TV. It didn’t matter what was on, you weren’t paying attention anyway. Your mind was completely focused on Dean. Your beloved Dean; who shouldn’t be wherever the fuck he was but instead safe in your arms.
He shouldn’t be spending his birthday terrified, missing you and his brother. He should be spending it with you, Sam, and Cas.
Sure, he wasn’t really the birthday party type of guy but each year since you met him you’d gotten him a pie and put candles in it for him to blow out. It’d started as a half-assed attempt to put a smile on his face when you learned it was his birthday and you couldn’t find a cake at the store.
He’d loved it.
“How’d you know I’d rather have pie?” he had asked, his face lighting up even more when you put two candles—a two and a four—in the center.
“I…had a feeling.” You had shrugged it off as not a big deal but deep down you both knew how much it meant to him.
And each year since then—come rain, shine, monsters, or the apocalypse—you made it your job to get Dean Winchester a pie on his birthday.
A few tears rolled down your cheeks, joining the half-dried ones there already. You hadn’t been sad on Dean’s birthday since his year before hell. But it was different then, you had him next to you and you were savoring every second. You might have been terrified of what would soon happen, but you were still with him.
**
“If you’re not already aware, Dean,” Castiel started, “you turn thirty-four today.”
“What?” Dean asked, confused. “Cas we—”
“Granted time seems to be passing differently here, but on earth it is currently your birthday.”
“Happy birthday, brother,” Benny joked.
“Yeah real fuckin’ happy,” Dean scoffed. “We’re stuck killing our way through this fuckin’ nightmare while the love of my life is spending my birthday alone.”
“I’m sure she’s okay, Dean,” Cas assured him. “She has Sam, he’ll look after her until we get back.”
“No, you don’t get it. Birthdays were…they were our thing, if that makes any goddamn sense.”
**
“Happy birthday, Dean,” you smiled, placing the pie in front of him.
“Twenty-six! God, that sounds old,” Dean laughed a little.
“You’re kidding right?” you asked after singing for him as he blew out the candles.
“What?”
“Twenty six may sound old to you, but trust me you are still fuckin’ adorable.”
“I am, aren’t I?” He grinned.
“You wanna do the honors, cutie?” you asked, handing him the kitchen knife.
“Gladly, sweetheart,” he said, taking it from you. You watched him cut a slice for you then an even bigger slice for himself.
“Dean,” you started as you watched him begin eating the pie. “I love you.”
He stopped eating and looked at you; “What?”
“I know there’s a lot about your life you haven’t told me, you’re lore you could call it, but I need you to know that I really do love you, Dean Winchester.”
“But how? I mean, I’m not exactly an open book and there’s no way…” he trailed off.
“No way, what?”
“There’s no way in hell you’d feel this way if you learned everything about me.”
Your heart broke at his words, and your expression definitely showed it.
“The amount of pure love I have for you is beyond measurable, Dean. And I might be crazy for saying this, and feeling this, but there is truly nothing you could say or do that would make me stop.”
“Really?” he asked quietly, as if he was scared to press his luck.
You nodded with a soft smile; “Really.”
“Well, look I’m not really one for…that…but I do…I do feel that way about you too. I guess what I’m saying is, uh, right back at cha?”
“See to any normal person that would sound like the ramblings of a crazy man,” you said, his smile only growing. “But to me? Absolute poetry.” You leaned over and kissed him. “Happy birthday, Dean.”
He simply kissed you back, smiling against your lips.
**
“Happy birthday, Dean,” you whispered, blowing out the candles on the small pie you’d bought. It was a one-person pie because you knew if you bought a regular one that at least three-quarters would not have been eaten.
You took out the candles and picked up your fork. Staring down at the desert, you let more tears fall.
“It shouldn’t be this hard to eat a fuckin’ pie,” you laughed humorously. Your phone rang next to you and you answered it; “Hey, Sam.”
“Hey,” he sighed. “I just wanted to call and check up on you. It being Dean’s birthday and all, I figured you might…you know…”
“Be huddled up in bed sobbing my eyes out?” you said.
“Yeah…”
“I’m holding it together Sammy, don’t worry about me,” you assured him.
“I always worry about you, you know that.”
There was a short pause in the conversation as you took a deep breath and let a few more tears fall; “I miss him, Sammy,” you admitted. “I just really miss him.”
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natti-ice · 2 months
Text
Night Moves- Dean Winchester.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!reader
Warnings: mentions of eating, established relationship, based on the song “night moves” by Bob Sager
Author’s note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!
Reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated<3
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You sat in the passenger seat of the impala humming along to the song on the radio, you hadn't heard it in a while so you forgot how much you liked it. You mindlessly stared off into the dark trees on the almost abandoned highway, remembering the first time you ever heard this song. 
You were abruptly brought out of your daydream when the song changed which was weird because there were at least 2 minutes left. 
"Hey, I was listening to that" you said turning your attention to your boyfriend in the driver seat. 
"Really?" Dean questioned "Why?"
"Because I like the song, Bob Sager is a legend." You replied
"Yeah obviously, but out of all songs, 'night moves' is your favorite?" He said with a light chuckle, lowering the volume of 'ramble on' that replaced Sager. 
"Yes, actually it is" you were ready to defend this song with your life "Is that a problem?" You incited
This was a common occurrence throughout the course of your relationship, you never argued about anything serious but when it came to music all cards are on the table. There were just certain things about music you couldn't agree on, sometimes the bickering would go on for days before you two would eventually kiss and make up. 
You knew this song was different though, but he didn't. He didn't know the significance of this song but you were going to change that before this went too far, it already continued into the diner where you two were having your weekly date night. 
By now the whole conversation has become about how Led Zeppelin is unappreciated, somehow all music conversations lead to Led Zeppelin. You waited for Dean to finish his second piece of pie so you'd know you'll have his full attention. 
"Do you really not know why I like the song so much?" You questioned hoping maybe he'd remember. He shook his head no, you sighed. "The night you first said you loved me, it was playing in the background" You explained
Dean's eyes went wider than you'd ever seen, all the memories of that night flooded his brain, the bar, the smell, the atmosphere, what he was wearing, what you were wearing, he remembered it all so how did he forget this one detail?
"That's right!" he shouted grabbing the attention of the only other customer and the waitress, "some drunk guy yelled out 'this is my jam!' across the bar right before I said it. I'm so sorry, I completely forgot" there was regret in his voice but fondness in his eyes. That was the best night of Dean's life. 
"Now you can see why I like it so much, it reminds me of us." You smiled at him
He smiled back, "Yeah, still a shit song" he shrugged then dodged the balled-up napkin you threw at him.
-
Eventually, you both started making your way back to the Impala, you walked out of the diner hand in hand. Right before you made it to the car you heard it…
"Workin' on our night moves, trying to lose the awkward teenage blues"  Dean sang under his breath. You immediately stopped in your tracks, causing him to do the same. He sighed before looking over at you, he knew he wasn't going to hear the end of this.
You raised your eyebrows at him, a big grin slapped across your face
"Shut up" he rolled his eye, a smile pulling at his lips
You smiled, leaned over and pecked his cheek, then whispered in his ear "I don't think I will."
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cas-kingdom · 11 months
Note
Dean Winchester x sister reader “Don’t tell Sam!”
(PS: I love your blog so so much 🥰)
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The light suddenly switched on and your fork paused mere inches from your open mouth. Dressed in an oversized shirt and slippers, you'd tiptoed down to the kitchen the moment the clock had turned midnight, determined to fill your stomach with food you'd been deprived of for the entire day.
"You're not being deprived of food," Sam had insisted as he blended up the third green concoction of the day, "it's called a juice cleanse, and you promised you'd do it with me. Please don't be so dramatic."
Dramatic was the last thing you would call this. You couldn't quite remember agreeing to such a thing, though you'd been half asleep when he'd asked, and the sly thing had known it.
You turned towards the door, not even caring to hope it wasn't Sam. It wasn't. Dean, wrapped in a dressing gown, stood in the open doorway. When he noticed the pie on the end of the fork and his sister's obvious determination to eat it, he chuckled and leant against the frame.
"Well, well, well," he said with a click of his tongue. "Look who broke."
As he crossed his arms, you rolled your eyes and stuffed the piece of pie in your mouth. Blackcurrant. Your favourite. You shut your eyes, savoured the juicy explosion, and decided there and then that you would never again subject your poor body to one of Sam's healthy excursions.
Still... "Don't tell Sam?" you asked sheepishly.
Dean snorted and grabbed a fork on his way to sit beside you. "Like hell I would. Can't have my pietner in crime disappear on me now, can I?"
SPN Masterpost
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deanwritings · 3 months
Text
The Guest House - Chapter 8
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Pairing: Dean x Reader
Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.
The Guest House Master List
Word Count: 3,961
A/N: Long chapter for a long wait! Really appreciate everyone's patience and please know that I do see everyone's comments and reblogs and it's much appreciated. I'm officially in grad school so my schedule is all over the place, so I've worked on and finished this chapter during various classes.
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You meet Dean in the driveway at 10am, per his request, your backpack slung over your shoulder as he’s throwing some bags of his own into the trunk. 
You had considered taking your own car up, in case you wanted to make a quick escape, but you felt embarrassed by the thought. Plus, it would be very obvious why you had taken your car. If you really didn’t want to go, you could have just said, “no,” not have an escape contingency. If you were going, you were going to go the right way. 
“Mornin’,” Dean greets you with a drawl and a fresh smile as you step around the back of the truck.
“Well good morning to you too.” You return as he holds his hand out towards you. You slide your bag off your shoulder and hand it over to him. “You’re chipper this morning.” You note as he makes a point to lower, not toss, your back into the trunk. 
This was probably the happiest you’ve encountered him in the morning so far. 
“How could I not be?” He grins, resting his arms on the trunk’s edge. “Get to work on some fancy cars, get to see my baby, AND,” he holds up a finger before he drops it and points it at you. “My mom makes the best apple pie you will ever have.” You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, and you don’t have the heart to tell him you were a cake girl. But hell, you’ll try that pie and grin and bear it if it keeps Dean in this good of a mood. You were really starting to enjoy his smile.  
“Let’s get to it then.” You smack your hands on the side of the truck before you heads towards the passenger seat and jump inside.
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Dean’s tapping his fingers along the steering wheel twenty minutes later, Bob Segaer singing quietly in the background as you watch out the window, Dean glancing at you occasionally.
You hadn’t said much since you first hit the road, just commenting on the few more brazen – aka jackass – drivers that had passed by, and the quietness wasn’t totally comfortable. At the end of the day, you were still basically strangers, and Dean can’t help but wonder what the hell he was thinking when he invited you up with him. 
He hadn’t meant to, it just fell out of his mouth, and once it was out there, he sure as hell hadn’t expected you to take him up on his offer. But you had. And his mother had raised him better than to rescind an invite.
He had made his bed, now he had to lie in it. 
After he got your text, he knew he was going to have to give his mom a heads up and decided to give her a call. 
“Is this the same girl you were complaining about the other week?” Mary’s voice rang through his headphones as he had begun packing for the weekend.
“Yeah, same one.”
“And you invited her to come up with you for the weekend?” Dean’s head fell back as he could hear the implication in his mother’s tone. 
“I was trying to be nice. That’s it.” He hoped to stop the gears that were definitely turning in her head. “Believe it or not, you did raise a gentleman.” He peppered in, knowing his mom loves to hear it. 
“Well that’s nice to hear.” Dean smirked, correct. Then a beat. “Is she pretty?”
After that, Dean had hung up, leaving Mary’s question unanswered. Because if he had answered it, it would have just opened a whole new conversation, and Dean wasn’t interested in having it. 
At this point, the two of you had become civil, hell, even friendly. 
And yeah, if Dean had answered Mary’s question, he would have said you were pretty, and had a confidence and sense of humor that, if he wasn’t going through a bitter divorce, would have had him asking you out in a heartbeat. But the last thing Dean wanted or needed right now was a relationship. 
“So what do you do at a car auction?” Your voice brings him out of his thoughts and he glances towards you, your Y/E/C eyes finding his. 
“Not much actually. I’ll go fix the cars up today, but the owners usually get me a ticket as an extra ‘thanks’ since they know I love it. So I more just get to enjoy the show then have to work it. Sometimes if one of my guys wants to buy a car they’ll get my opinion, but these guys usually know their stuff.”
You just nod.
“How many cars do you have to work on today?”
Dean clicks his tongue, thinking. 
“Got two to tune up for the show tomorrow, then my client, Rick, also wants me to take a look at his ‘69 Stingray. Shouldn’t take too long.” You just nod again, and Dean wonders just how much you know about cars. Though considering you had been rapidly turning over a dead battery earlier this week, he imagines it’s not much. But it gives him an opening. 
“Know much about cars?” He shoots you a quick look, seeing your shoulders shake as you snort out a laugh before he looks back out the windshield. 
“Figured it was pretty obvious I don’t.” Dean laughs out his nose, seeing you turn towards him in your seat from his peripherals.
“But when I was sixteen my dad wanted to get me a ‘74, baby blue Mustang. It was such a beautiful car and I was so excited. I would have had the coolest car at school.” You reminisce. “But my mom shot it down because it only had lap belts and I’m pretty sure there were no airbags. Guess she cared about my safety or something.” You laugh and Dean joins in. 
He liked hearing you laugh. It also meant you were opening up to him. Which he shouldn’t care about, but it brings a smile to his face nonetheless. 
“‘74 Mustang’s a helluva’ a car.” He can picture the exact model in his mind. It’s a hilarious comparison to what he sees you driving around in every day. “Would give your Sonata a run for her money.” You laugh again.
“Yeah no kidding. I’d probably be the worst person for a car like that, though. I would have no idea how to take care of it.” You take a deep breath and look out the window again. “Doesn’t stop me from thinking about it though.” You sigh, earning Dean’s attention. He turns back towards the road, but an idea is now forming. 
He grabs his cellphone out of the console cup holder, his eyes quickly darting between the fairly empty highway and his screen as he opens up his texts and swipes a message before hitting send.
As he looks back up, a sign catches his eye. 
LAKE CHAMPLAIN BRIDGE
1 MILE 
The highway sign gives Dean a heads up that you’re about to hit the best part of the drive. 
“Well there will be plenty of cars you can dream about at the auction, even if you know nothin’ about ‘em.”
Dean flips his blinker on and merges into the right lane, getting onto the exit ramp for the bridge. 
As he slowly takes the curve, the Lake Champlain Bridge comes into view, the elongated, steel archway glistening in the morning sun and reflecting off the calm waters below. Beyond the overpass, the Adirondack mountains tower over the hidden town, complementing the scenery. 
“Woooow,” you breath out, sitting forward in your seat to get a better view out the windshield as the ramp straightens out, welcoming you across the bridge. 
“I know.” Dean agrees with a smile. “Never get tired of seeing it.” He sighs honestly. 
The shadows play through the windows as Dean speeds across the platform. It only takes about 15 seconds to get across, and you lean back once the bridge can only be seen in the rearview. 
“So how come your mom lives out here?” You ask as Dean takes the first exit off the bridge, headed for the outskirts of Bolton. 
“She and my dad had moved out here once my brother and I moved out. Mom always wanted to live on the water and Bolton is small enough and affordable that she was able to get her lakefront dream home.” Dean keeps his focus on the road, checking both left and right before heading straight across the intersection he had stopped at. 
“And she liked that she would still be close-by. Not that it really matters now that Sam lives in the city.”
“Sam?” Dean glances at you, your brows cinched together. Dean realizes he’s never mentioned his brother. And here he is taking you to meet his mother. 
“Sam’s my younger brother.” He explains and your mouth opens in understanding. “He’s a hot shot lawyer in the city where he lives with his fiancé.” 
“Ah. Billie had mentioned you had a brother but that was it.” 
Of course she did. Dean laughs to himself. He’s curious what else Billie has told you. 
But then another thought crosses his mind. He hasn’t told you anything about his family, and he didn’t want to blindside you as you got closer to his mom’s house.
“Also, I should give you a heads up that it’s just my mom.” Dean’s voice lowers as he navigates the familiar backroads. From his vantage point, he can see your eyes narrow, trying to work out his words. 
“My dad passed a while back.” Dean clarifies. “Ten years actually.” The words leave Dean a little breathless. He hadn’t really been thinking that this year would mark a decade since his dad had died. This really wasn’t his year. 
“Shit, I’m sorry, Dean.” Your voice is quiet, and Dean can hear the pain in it. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?” 
Dean’s lip quirks up for just a moment. It’s almost funny how you’re asking for permission to know how his dad died. Not that it bothers him.
“Brain aneurysm.” Dean sighs. “Old man never saw it coming.” He thinks back to the day he got the phone call. He had been at work when his mother called his cell. But still being a garage grunt, Dean hadn’t answered. A few minutes later, Bobby had stepped into the garage and called Dean into his office. Dean never would have thought there was a connection between the timing of his mom’s call and Bobby’s beckoning. 
Looking back, he was grateful Bobby was the one who told him. He didn’t need to think about his brother or mother at that moment. Just let the shock and grief overwhelm him in the privacy of Bobby’s office with his boss’ hand of support on his shoulder. 
Lisa had picked him up, after Linda had called her and broke the news. At the time, Dean was renting an apartment off Main Street, and Lisa spent the next few days staying over cooking and cleaning for him, making sure he would be prepared for the upcoming wake and funeral. 
Back when they had actually cared about each other. 
“God, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine.” Dean swallows down the lump in his throat and shrugs his shoulders. 
“It’s okay. Happened a long time ago now.” The familiar weight of John’s death settles on Dean’s shoulders, even after all this time. 
“Doesn’t make it any easier.” You counter. “Just more bearable.” A sad smile graces Dean’s lips as the lake comes into view through the barren trees as a silence falls over the cab.
“Anything else I should know before I meet your mom?” Your voice breaks through the silence. “Any sisters or more exes I should be warned about?”
Dean laughs before he can even think about it, and the weight lightens. He doesn’t thank you for it, but he’s grateful nonetheless. 
“I promise that’s it.” 
A few minutes later, Dean turns into the familiar driveway, the saturated sage A-frame nestled between the bare birches. One of the white-trimmed windows houses a familiar silhouette, eager for their arrival. 
Dean parks the truck behind Mary’s Nissan Rogue, a car he helped her pick out a few years ago when her decades-old minivan finally crapped out.
Dean kills the engine and sits back. 
“Ready?” He turns to face you, a bright smile on his face. 
You take a deep breath and find his eyes.
“Sure am.”
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You had lied. You weren’t feeling ready at all. As you stood at the trunk with Dean, looking up at the lakeside cabin, it was undeniably weird. The only parents you had met were your friends or partners. Never a random guy whose ex-wife was renting you their guest house. 
Not to mention you were still reeling from the story of Dean’s father. It was hard enough losing your aunt. You can’t imagine losing your father, and at that young of an age. You had to assume Dean was in his early thirties now, so to lose a parent when you’re barely an adult had to be even more devastating. You wonder if Dean’s father was around when he married Lisa. You can’t imagine getting married without both of your parents by your side to celebrate. Even if the marriage hadn’t worked out, you hoped he had been alive to see it. 
Dean reaches into the trunk and pulls out your pack, handing it to you. You give him a smile as you take it and throw it over your shoulder, and he smirks back at you. 
Once he has his bags, you follow him to the front step, a lone slab of stone, low to the ground, leading up to the tan double doors protected underneath a gabled roof, a lantern-esque pendant hanging overhead. 
As Dean reaches for the handle, the door pulls itself open, revealing a woman, a few inches taller than yourself, with blonde hair that’s so light it could be confused for gray, and green eyes matching Dean’s, not to mention the same, bright smile. Though the lines around her lips tell you she wears it more often than her son. 
“Dean!” She doesn’t hesitate as she throws her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in tight as his arms holding the bags get trapped to his sides.
“Hi, mom.” Dean huffs, a few beats going by before she lets him go and holds him at an arm’s length, studying him. 
“You look thinner.” She frowns, Dean takes a deep breath in and steps back. 
“I’m fine, mom.” He assures her the same way any child avoiding a lecture does. 
Her lips fold in and she sighs out instead of commenting. 
She then turns to you, her smile returning. 
“I’m assuming you’re Y/N?” You smile back with a nod. “I hope you’re a hugger.” She steps towards you and wraps her arms around you, giving you a surprisingly strong squeeze for an older woman. 
“Mom,” Dean groans, but you just wrap your free arm around her in return.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Winchester.” You pat her on the back before she pulls away and then swats her hand through the air.
“Oh please, we’re all adults. You can call me Mary.” You smile at her. 
“Well, thank you, Mary, for having me for the weekend.”
“It’s exciting!” She shrugs her shoulders up towards her ears. “It’s like Dean’s a kid all over again having a sleepover. Though they were never with girls.” She smirks at you and you can’t help but laugh as she shoots you a wink.
“Oh Jesus, ok. How about we go inside?” Dean steps around Mary and disappears into the entryway, effectively escaping and ending the conversation.
Mary just chuckles and shakes her head. 
“C’mon in.” She follows her son and waves you in and you step inside and close the door behind you.  
You’re surprised to find the house is almost completely open, with views stretching straight back to the ceiling-to-wall windows overlooking the lake’s shoreline. 
The open space is painted a soft yellow, with matching cream and light blue accents throughout the room. It’s the perfect picture of serenity, with not even a throw blanket out of place. 
Several plaques adorn the walls, each with cliché sayings like “Life is better at the lake” and “Living on lake time.”
Along the side wall, right in the center, is a gorgeous stone fireplace, with a natural mantle above it lined with various picture frames. 
“Your home is gorgeous,” You honestly gush. You had no idea what to expect, but it was like a living room straight out of Better Homes & Garden. 
“Oh well thank you, dear.” Mary puts her hands on her hips and looks around. “It took a lot of elbow grease and a few years, but I finally got it to where I wanted.” Your mouth pops open at her words. 
“You did all of this yourself?” You take in the vaulted, beamed ceiling and the wainscotting, appreciating the details that much more.
“Sure did. Needed something to keep me busy.” She trails off, and it takes you a moment to realize she’s talking about her husband. 
“Anyways,” she claps her hands. “Let me show you to your room.” She turns up the stairs to the right of the entrance. You look over at Dean who shoots up his eyebrows and you laugh before fixing your bag over your shoulder and following Mary. 
The upstairs hallway is just as gorgeous as downstairs, with four, stark white doors adorning the walls. You follow Mary towards the front of the house, where she opens the door for you.
“Here you are,” she ushers you in as she stands in the doorway. It’s a decently sized room, enough for a queen-sized bed, two nightstands, and a small dresser. The room has a farmhouse-chic look to it with a white-slabbed headboard and matching furniture. The bedside lampshades are a soft red, with the room tied together with a coordinated rug and throw pillows.
It was darling. 
“This is great,” you step inside past Mary. “Thank you.”
“I’ll let you get settled.” Mary smiles as you turn to face her. “If you need the bathroom, it’s right next door. Dean’s room is right past that, and then I’m across the hall.” She points to her door and you nod. With that, Mary steps out of the doorway, closing the door behind her.
You set your bag down at the corner of the bed and wander over to the window. Selfishly, you were hoping for a lakeview, but your room overlooks the driveway, Dean’s green truck and Mary’s SUV taking up the scenery instead. 
You take a deep breath as you head back towards the bed and kneel down at your bag, zipping it open and pulling out the very few clothes you brought for the weekend. You decide to put your clothes away, wanting to be a tidy guest, and hang up the only nice item you brought on the hook on the back of the bedroom door. 
You make a quick pit stop in the bathroom, making sure you still look fresh before passing the open doors of Dean and Mary’s rooms, stealing a glance into each before you head downstairs. 
As you return back to the foyer, you follow the muffled voices of the Winchesters around the corner to the closed-off portion of the house, stepping into the farmhouse-modern kitchen; a defined theme seamlessly integrated throughout the whole home. 
Dean is leaning against the center island, the base a vibrant blue that probably reflects the lake water in the summer, while Mary sits on one of the stools, her hands wrapped around a mug resting on the white countertop.
Dean notices you first, standing up a bit straighter as Mary turns in her seat to look towards you. 
“All settled?” Mary asks.
“Yes, thank you.” You stand under the room’s archway, feeling like you’re intruding on her and Dean’s personal space. 
“Would you like a coffee or anything? I can make you something to go.”
“To go?” You brow furrows. You know Dean has a work appointment, but you figured you would hang back at the house with Mary while he was busy. You look towards him, a sly smile on that stupidly handsome face of his as he relaxes next to his mother. 
“Figured you could come with me, learn a thing or two before the show tomorrow.” His eyes glisten in the sunlight shining through the multitude of windows. 
Your heart skips a beat at his words and his gaze.
“I really hope you’re not expecting me to help.” You shoot him a pointed look. You were useless when he fixed your battery just a few days ago, there’s no way you would be able to help him fix a speciality car. You wouldn’t even know the names of tools if he asked you to hand them to him. 
He chuckles. “I think I got a preview of your car knowledge this week,” he fully pushes off the island. “I think I’d be better off alone there.” You roll your eyes. 
Ass. Even if you just had the same thought. 
He steps towards you and flips his car keys in his hand. 
“But, I did set something up for you.” You frown at him. 
Did he sign you up for a car class or something? You did not agree to anything like that when he invited you up for the weekend. 
Scanning your face, he quells your concerns. 
“Just trust me.” You stare up at him, holding his gaze as he smiles down at you. 
Damn it. 
“Fine.” You huff. 
About fifteen minutes later, Dean turns down a long driveway, a sign in gold letters welcoming you to the Lime Rock Raceway. 
“A race track?” You turn towards Dean as he drives further down the path, a winding course coming into view. Grandstands rise up above the track, all empty this time of year. 
Dean just responds with a smirk as he parks in front of the raceway’s entrance. 
Without a word, Dean steps out of the truck, and you follow suit, one step behind him as he waves to the security attendant at the gate before finally coming to a halt at the edge of the track as your eyes widen at the car parked at the checkered finish line.
“Is that–” You point to the light blue, curving frame in front of you, your heart in your throat. 
“Not quite the ‘74 Mustang you wanted, but figured a ‘73 would do.” He grins down at you, but you’re too awestruck to return the gesture.
You step past him, your eyes glued to the only car that ever held your interest. It may be a year off, but it was just as beautiful as the one you had wanted since you were sixteen years ago. 
And it was parked right in front of you. 
“How–” you turn towards Dean, his hands in his pocket as he shrugs. 
“My client, Rick, has a collection and I asked him if he could bring this one with him.”
Holy shit. He did this for you. Went out of his way to bring your dream car to you.
Where the hell was the asshole you met only a few weeks ago? Because he certainly wasn’t standing in front of you now. 
“And,” he steps forward when you don’t respond, pulling his hands out of his pocket. “I haven’t even told you the best part yet.” He leans down towards you, his smile growing. 
“You get to drive it.”
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