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jawritter · 1 year

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My Brother’s Keeper

Chapter 1

Summary: Y/N, Sam’s roommate, so far have a pretty good thing going. Both work and function around one another well. What happens when his big brother comes down for the holidays with his mysterious past, mixed with Sam’s own mysterious previous life? Can Y/N and the grumpy older brother find a way to get along? Or will it be a not so happy holidays at the Winchester house?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Sized!Reader x Sam

Word Count: 1782

Prompt: Roommate AU

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo

Rating: Mature (because of future chapters, this story is 18 + only, and not fit for minor consumption.)

Warnings: Angst, Some bickering

A/N: This is the first Christmas fic I have written in a long time! You guys will get this one real time, and I hope to finish it before New Years! Fingers crossed! Anyways, This fic is unbeta’d, so all mistakes are my won! Feedback is golden! My work is 18+ only! No minors! Thanks so much for reading!

Main Masterlist

Y/N’s POV:

“You sure about this Sam, it is Christmas after all, what if your brother doesn’t want your roommate tagging along all weekend with you guys?” Y/N questioned for what was probably the third time that day, but the thought of Sam’s older brother coming to stay the weekend with the pair of them had her feeling extremely anxious, and a whole lot like the third wheel of the whole situation.

“Yes Y/N, I’m sure, I promise, everything will be fine. Dean doesn't mind. He knows you live here; he’s not going to expect you to leave your own house, that you pay half the rent on, just because he’s coming to stay for the weekend. It’s really not a problem.”

Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line as she continued to load the dishwasher in front of her. She didn’t quite believe Sam; he had a tendency to downplay things. He was also a Dean Winchester apologist; she knew that for a fact. Not that she’d ever laid eyes on Dean, save an old picture that Sam had kept in his room. Still, some of the stories these two shared growing up! She knew they’d had a complicated childhood, but Dean Winchester was much like his father John in a lot of ways, and John, from what she’d remembered, was not a good person. Add the fact that Dean was a self-proclaimed ‘ladies’ man’, and she just was not looking forward to this weekend at all.

Not that she was so deluded to think that Dean would actually hit on someone like her. She wasn’t exactly a ten. Her thighs seemed to touch together, no matter how much she exercised, and she didn’t have a super flat stomach. She wasn’t dumb enough to think that Dean would even look her way. She’d seen the pictures of Cassie, Lisa, some wanna be Barbie knockoff she couldn’t remember the name of, and a few others of his conquest via Sam’s sleuthing on Facebook and Twitter, Lisa being the latest. She looked nothing like those beautiful women. Dean wouldn’t even look her way. Still, she doubted the handsome Winchester wanted a female version of Java the Hut hanging around all weekend while he came to visit his baby brother, especially considering it was Christmas.

“Trust me Y/N, Dean’s an alright guy. Once you get to know him, you’ll love him. Now, I’ve got to go to work,” Sam announced, suddenly standing from the table and closing his laptop before stuffing it in his bag. “Just try not to stress about it too much, okay Y/N/N? It’s gonna be fine, I promise.”

“Fine,” she agreed reluctantly as she pressed the start button on the dishwasher.

She remained unconvinced, no matter how much Sam assured her that everything would be fine. There would always be this internal battle that the man would be repulsed by her the moment he saw her, like she felt that most men where, save Sam, he’d been her best friend for years now. He didn’t care what she looked like, or that she came from a poorer family. They connected immediately, and quickly became best friends. So, when she lost her apartment due to covid layoffs, Sam had gladly offered her a room in his house. She’d been living there for almost two years now and had never seen his family aside from pictures. She just assumed other than Dean, he didn’t get along with any of them, or they were all dead, she just never asked. It wasn’t any of her business.

Sam had gone back to school later in life to finish his law degree, before she’d met him, and was now working his first year in his own law firm. He never really wanted to talk much about his life before this, or why he’d left Stanford, and what he’d done all those years in between, or how he’d ended up in Detroit for that matter. All he’d ever say when she’d asked what he’d done in his time, life really, off of school, he just said the story wasn’t all that interesting, and blew her off. She knew Dean played a role in it, because he talked about his big brother all the time, and even talked about some of the adventures they’d had on the road, people they’d met, places they’d stayed in, sights they’d seen, but he never would give her more information than that; never would tell her why they were on a road trip together, or what happened in between to ultimately separate them.

Though, she was pretty sure his ex-girlfriend, Eileen, might have had something to do with it. He’d said that ultimately, ‘they had different goals in life,’ and because of that, it just didn’t work out.

The only thing she knew about the oncoming house guest, aside from all the above, was that he was a private detective, and worked closely with law enforcement after doing two years as a working FBI agent. She never told Sam, but she had tried to look him up once, and all she found was an obituary, claiming him to be dead. For some reason, she thought that the FBI part of Dean’s story wasn’t exactly true, but considering his line of work, she thought that it must be a ‘need to know’ kinda thing,’ and she didn’t ask more than that. She had a hard enough time in her current life, she didn’t need to have to go into witness protection program and start all over again.

“Oh, and Y/N, I’m probably gonna be late this evening, the meeting with this client is probably gonna be long, so Dean’s gonna beat me here. Just let him in, he knows how to make himself at home,” Sam called over his shoulder, closing the front door tightly behind him before she had the chance to argue with him about it.

Y/N’s nostrils flared as she glared at the door. He’d known all morning that she’d be alone here when Dean got here, yet he waited until he was leaving to drop that little tidbit of information on her!

She picked up her phone, opening her text app, and sent him a lovely little message about how payback was going to be a bitch, and she wasn’t going to be his brother’s keeper, nor his entertainment, or babysitter for that matter, so he can bring his ass home and do a goddamn zoom meeting for the rest of the week.

It didn’t help the situation at hand any, but it made her momentarily feel better. That is, until she looked around the room at the state of the messy house in front of her.

Running one hand down her face, she assessed the state of things, before deciding it was more important that the man show up to a presentable house, rather than taking the time to go fix herself up for nothing, because messy bun and PJ’s, or full face of makeup and fixed hair with nice clothes, it really didn’t matter, all that effort would have been for naught anyway, it wasn’t like he’d even look twice at her.

Y/N took a deep breath, yelled for Alexa to turn on Metallica on Pandora, and made her way into the kitchen to go and retrieve the broom. There was no putting off the inevitable, but at least cleaning will distract her for a while.

Dean’s POV:

“For fucks sakes Sammy!” Dean barked into the phone he had jammed between his right shoulder and ear as he hurried around his bedroom, shoving clothing into a duffle bag that was once used for hunting, but now he just kept it around for weeks he decided to go see his baby brother, still, as his large hand gripped the faded green material of the strap, the memory was not lost on him. Not at all. “You can’t even take off for one day before your vacation is supposed to start! It’s not like I get a free weekend all the damn time. I’m driving all the way up there to see you, not spend time with your roommate.”

“You will only beat me there by a few hours Dean, she doesn’t bite or anything,” Sam argued, the eye rolled damn near audible in his voice, and Dean growled into the phone with all the righteous indignation he could muster, mostly because he knew the next words that were about to come out of Sam’s mouth. “Besides, it’s not like you haven’t had to spend an hour with a strange girl you didn’t—”

“I’ve told you, that’s not me anymore Sam! I’m damn near 44 years old! I’m old, cranky, probably got a little PTSD, and a fucking control freak. That poor girl doesn’t want to spend her afternoon looking at me of all people!”

“I’ll see you when I get home Dean,” Sam insisted, “and try not to knock up my best friend before I get home. She’s hot, but I have faith you can keep it in your pants for an hour.”

“Fuck you— wait a minute, what do you mean she’s hot?” Dean questioned and Sam laughed as he hung up the phone.

Dean grumbled as he tossed his duffle bag over his shoulder and turned to examine his room for the last time to make sure he had all he needed before whistling at Miracle to follow him.

Sam said she was hot, but honestly, he wouldn't let his dick get in the way of good sense. He’s not the man he used to be, he had scars, big ones, one that poor girl didn’t need to see. Besides, if Sam thought she was hot he wasn’t gonna step in on his girl. Sammy deserved a normal, happy life, and if this girl could do that for him, he was going to behave himself, no matter how hot she was.

“She better-not-be allergic to dogs,” Dean said to Miracle as he approached his Baby sitting in the parking garage as shiny and pretty as the day she’d been driven off of the lot. The only woman that hadn’t done him wrong, and he’d do well to remember it. “‘Cause if she is, I'll pick you over my brother’s roommate. She can just get a fucking hotel or something.”

Miracle sat and stared, tongue hanging out, and completely unenthused.

Dean sighed as he opened the passenger door for his four-legged friend to jump in, “yeah, figured you’d care about as much,” he murmured as he closed the door. “Least you care more than Sam apparently does. It’s almost like he doesn’t want to see me at all.”

Pt. 2 HERE!!!

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jawritter · 1 year

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My Brother’s Keeper

Chapter 10 Final Chapter... for this year anyway....

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Sized!Reader x Sam

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: Mature (because of future chapters, this story is 18 + only, and not fit for minor consumption.)

Warnings: 18 + ONLY!! This series is not for minors! If I find you, you will be blocked form my work!! SMUT, insecure reader, angst, finding out the truth about monsters, cliff hanger ending, (inserts evil laught here)

Main Masterlist

Y/N’s POV:

Y/N sat, eyes wide, stomach burning with anxiety and nerves, wide eyed at the two men that sat across from her and beside her. The story that they had just told her was so unbelievable, that there was absolutely NO way that they could have made it up. It also explained some things that Sam had around the house that she always counted as strange, like the bottles of holy water, bags of strange things sitting on shelves or in corners… that were apparently ‘hex bags’ for ‘protection.’

Sam had been doing the majority of the talking for the past hour, because when Dean got to certain parts in HIS side of the story, like going to hell for forty years, his mom's death… the second time… the loss of his best angle friend, Cas being the last part, he just stopped talking, and sat next to her in silence staring at the floor. Admittedly, she was sure there were parts of his story that he couldn’t remember after he was impaled to a pole. Parts that Sam would have had to tell. Parts about surgeries, and time spent in hospitals. How life after hunting, after trauma indescribable, and monsters and demons up until the point that they had met, those were things that Dean seemed to be unable to find words for.

She tried to cover it up. The sheer shock of things that they had told her would surely give her nightmares for the rest of her life, and suddenly, all those things she thought that was fake all of her life, all those things she was afraid of, all of those things that go bump in the night, and some things that she had never even heard of, to find out that they were real… that’s not something you just walk away from the same, and fuck, she was never going to be the same again.

“I would have given anything,” Dean said suddenly, his voice hoarse and strained as he kept his eyes lowered and his head bowed. “Anything at all, to have never had to tell you that. I would have taken it to my grave if I could have, but if you’re going to spend any amount of time in a relationship with me at all, you need to know the truth. I couldn’t lie to you, it would have just blown up in my face.”

Sam watched her closely, and God she’d love to know what he was thinking, seeing as this is what he wanted anyway, for her to be with his brother, which meant that surely he would have known this conversation was coming one day if his little plans laid out like he wished for them too. She was admittedly a little angry with him that he never told her anything about it. He had years to sit this up, soften the blow, but he never told her one word, and she’d have words with him about that later, when she was thinking clearer, and she had time to process it all.

"Y/N, say something, please," Dean pleaded.

His hands were tightly tripping the bottle in his hands in an attempt to hide the tremble in them. His breaths were erupting from his chest in small pants, and he was sweating ever so slightly at his hairline.

"I, I don't really know what to say," she admitted in earnest, and Sam nodded across from her.

"It's a lot," Sam voiced, "and the fact that you didn't run away screaming is more than I'd hoped for when Dean told me he wanted to tell you everything."

"I get it," Dean said, suddenly standing. "I'll uhm, I'll go to pack up my things and as soon as they bring the plows through tonight I will leave you guys alone. I'm sorry, I should have never came. You probably think we're nuts—"

"Hey," Y/N quickly reached for his hand to stop him from running away. "I never said you were crazy, and I never said I wanted you to leave or that I didn't believe you. It's just a LOT to process, and I don't know how I feel about it yet. Scared, fucking numb, angry that you've both had to go through so much trauma, even a little angry that you were left alone when Sam moved here, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna run away or that I want you too. You can't just drop a bomb like that and then run away. It doesn't work like that."

"I'm a lot more fucked up than I appear to be sweetheart, are you sure you still want to so this? That you're still interested in me?" Dean questioned, but slowly sat back down on the couch next to her when she pulled his arm towards her.

"And that's totally understandable," Y/N offered. "That doesn't mean you should recluse yourself and hide away from your family and people you care about."

Sam cleared his throat and stood from his seat across from the pair of them, for a moment, she had forgotten he was even in the room.

"I think I'm gonna call it a night, it's already after midnight, and you guys need to talk things out without me there.," Sam said, and Y/N's eyes drifted to the clock above the mantel.

"Fuck, it's already midnight?" Y/N whispered in astonishment.

"It wasn't exactly a short story to tell," Dean chuckled humorlessly next to her.

"Well, goodnight," Sam cleared his throat again at the sudden tenderness that filled the room, Miracle hot on his heels.

"Come on," Y/N said, standing suddenly. "Let's go get comfortable, that's enough of the heavy for now."

It was as if a cloud had rested over Dean's face. His eyes were darker. His shoulders were slumped slightly as if a weight of a thousand pounds had rested on Dean's shoulders. She didn't like seeing him like that. She didn't like that the light he carried from the moment he walked into her life seemed to have dimmed just a little by the darkness that had fallen from their past like a shadow of a passing storm. The worst of it may have been over, the wind and the rain and lightning no longer pounded against him, but the destruction remained. The darkness lingered. She could see it now, why Sam said he needed her. He was alone in an aftermath that was much bigger than him. He needed someone to help him pick up the pieces.

Dean followed her, completely silent. Neither of them had changed from their pajamas the night before, so she pulled back the cover, and invited him to crawl into bed next to her.

He stood there for a moment, his gaze shifting between the bed and the floor.

"What is Dean?" She questioned, she'd never seen him so unsure. Not that she'd known him all that long.

"Nothing, I just… I really didn't expect you to stay," he admitted before sliding slowly into the bed next to her.

"Well, I told you I didn't scare easy," she attempted to tease him.

"Maybe you should," he said, completely serious. "Everyone that I've ever loved, cared about, as you heard, they usually don't last long around me. Maybe I shouldn't have put you into this position at all."

"Dean, nothing supernatural ended Sarah's life. It was cancer. Something that can and has happened to anyone. That wasn’t you. You and Sam both said it yourself. Things are different now. It's okay, I'm okay, nothing bad will happen to you or me."

Dean nodded, still very unsure, and maybe he’d always be a little unsure, always waiting for the next shoe to drop, and everything to fall apart, that’d just be something she’d have to slowly work on fixing for him. He deserved some piece in his life.

“You know,” Dean said as slipped his arm around her, and pulled her in closer to him so that she was resting her head against his chest, the steady drum of his heart beating against her ear. “You and one other woman are all that I’ve ever told, you know, about what we really do. Well, women that weren’t part of the life, or became hunters. Sarah was a hunter already when I met her. Joe, I never gave her the chance she deserved, but she was raised in this shit. I was young and stupid, and she is probably my biggest regret, if I could have done it all over again… I guess the point I’m trying to make is that I’ve got a lot of regrets, and I have to live with those, there’s not a fix for that, but I don’t want us to be another one.”

“I’m not going to be Dean,” she told him again, and if she had too, she’d tell him a thousand times over. If it’s what he needed to hear, needed the assurance, she’d tell him over and over again.

Dean took a deep breath, willing himself to relax. She could feel how tense he was underneath her, and she wished there was a way to help him through it, because God she knew what it felt like to be all bound up like that. Talking about the things he’d talked about today had not been easy, at all. It’d taken a toll on him emotionally and physically.

She let her fingers trace the hard muscles of his chest through his thinner, white shirt. He shivered underneath her, and wrapped his arm tighter around her.

“So you’re really gonna stay?” She questioned, “Leave the bunker behind, and come here?”

Dean sighed heavily. “If it means being here with you, then yes.”

“But… you really don’t want to stay here, do you?”

She questioned, the sudden tightness around her own chest told her she already knew the answer to that question.

Dean moved, sliding down in the bed to lay on his side next to her so that he could see her, almost as if he sensed what she was feeling or thinking. It amazed her how they already seemed so connected.

“I wanna be wherever you are,” he assured her. “If that’s here, or fucking Miami, Florda, I’m there.”

“But The Bunker is the only home you’ve ever known—”

“The Bunker served its purpose for me, as I’m sure it will for someone else one day, but my HOME has always been where Sammy is, and now where you are. I”ve always been a bit of a nomad sweetheart. Starting over again here won't be as bad as I’m afraid it will be. I'm just having a little trouble letting things go in my old age, but once I get established, I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

“You’re not old,” she countered, and deadpanned, a bit of the spark coming back into his eyes that had been dampened out by the earlier conversations of the past.

“You’re in a relationship with an old man, sweetheart, face it.”

“What can I say,” she teased, “I got daddy issues.”

It just slipped out, she normally never talked that way, she was just trying to be funny, and as soon as she did, the blush that covered her face had her damn near glowing.

“You’re adorable when you blush you know that,” Dean questioned, brushing her hair behind her ear so that he could see her face better, and fuck if that didn’t make her blush even harder.

“There is NOTHING cute or adorable on me, or about me,” Y/N said, attempting to hide her face from him.

“That’s not true at all,” Dean countered. “You’re gorgeous sweetheart, there’s not a flaw on you.”

“You haven’t seen me naked,” she shot back, and the impish smirk that crossed his lips probably had the power to melt her clothing slam off of her body.

“No, I haven’t, but fuck I”d sure like too.”

Dean’s finger tips traced her sides, and down her thighs. “You’re fucking beautiful baby. So soft, warm, inviting… God you have no idea how bad I’d love to see you naked. You wanna talk about flaws? My boney ass has plenty of them. But you, baby girl you look just how a woman should. Fucking gorgeous.”

“Whatever,” she argued, “have you seen yourself lately?”

“Every goddamn day baby, and it ain’t nothing to look at, but you,...”

Dean let his words trail off as his eyes traced every part of her body he could see. Drinking her in like a man dying of thirst.

Before she could argue with him any further, Dean captured her lips in his, kissing her deeply, doing his best to wash away every fear, every bit of anxiety, and every bit of insecurities. It worked. It was damn hard to focus on anything but Dean when his lips were tracing their way down her neck and shoulders. When his callous hands were making their way under her shirt and up her sides slowly trailing a line of fire in their wake.

He’d succeeded in keeping her thoroughly distracted until he took the hymn of her shirt in his hands, and began to lift it over her head, and she stopped him, suddenly afraid that when he saw that her stomach wasn’t so flat, or that she had stretch marks on her hips and her breast, that he’d run away screaming. He may have lived a literal nightmare, but he’d never seen her naked, and she was afraid that as soon as he did, he’d run.

"What's wrong, did I do something wrong?" Dean questioned quickly, and fuck if that didn't make her feel worse.

"You didn't do anything wrong, it's me. I… I don't know if you really want to see me naked, cause I'm not perfect by ANY standards."

Dean sat up in the bed, and for a moment she'd thought she'd made him mad when he stood up out of the bed. But to her surprise, with an almost sad face, he started to remove his own layers of clothing. Starting with his hot dog pj's, when he kicked his leg up on the bed, revealing a scare that looked a whole lot like a bullet hole in his thigh muscle before grabbing her hand, and running it over the discolored skin.

“I can show you imperfections sweetheart,” he continued, standing up straight, and ripping his shirt from his body, revealing a thin, yet soft tummy, and broad chest and shoulders, that looked like they had been carved out by the hand of God himself, but past the initial shock of it all, littered a multitude of scars among seas of freckles and tanned skin, and one tattoo, matching Sam’s, until he turned, revealing a good sized mark on his back, that was slightly indented, and once was a hole, where a piece of rebar almost took his life from him far too soon.

It took all she had in her to hold back the deep breath she almost gasped in, there was no way he should have survived that, yet here he was. Alive and well by some divine miracle that they didn’t even understand, and somehow, it made it all more real, like that was evidence of everything he’d ever told her.

“That’s just the shit you can see Baby, that ain’t got nothing on the years of mental and emotional scars that don’t show like these do.”

Dean turned around to face her, crawling back into the bed just as he’d been laying a moment ago.

“There ain’t nothing you got hidden under those close honey that is gonna run me off. I’ve seen some horrible, terrifying shit in my life, and I can assure you, there’s none of that on you at all. You have absolutely NO reason to hide from me whatsoever baby, I promise you, you’re gorgeous.”

Y/N’s mind and heart were racing, somewhere deep, DEEP down, she knew he was telling her the truth, but she still felt that hint of anxiety that screamed at her that she didn’t deserve someone as beautiful as him. Someone as brave as him. A fucking hero for fuck’s sake.

“Hey, but if you don’t want to go any further than this right here tonight, or any other night, I’m okay. I promise. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I don’t want you to think I’m pushing you for something I’m not.”

She looked up at him this time. No man alive had ever told her that before. She was by no means a virgin, but usually, it was what the male in the relationship wanted. They rarely ever cared about what she wanted or needed. Ever.

“No, no, I want to,” she’d said with determination after a moment. “I want to be close to you Dean, it’s just not that easy for me.”

“I wish you could see what I see,” he mused, scooping her up and pulling her close as he physically could to him. “Then maybe this wouldn’t be so hard for you.”

“Then show me,” she said, swallowing past the lump that had suddenly developed in her throat. “Show me what you see.”

That was all the prompting he needed to slip his hand around her back to brace her as he rolled her onto her back, his lips never leaving hers except when broke away to lift her shirt above her head. This time she let him, and he kept her busy with his lips to be well distracted as slowly, every layer of clothing she’d had, except her underwear, had slipped to the floor.

His fingers traced every inch of skin his lips couldn’t find as he worshiped her body, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses over each swell of her breast, and over stomach as he worked his way lower over her body, and as he made his descent, the more her anxiety grew.

“Dean,” she said, attempting to stop him, but he just raced back up towards her lips with his, kissing away what little bit of anxiety had risen there.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, “trust me.”

She nodded after a moment of internal struggle. She’d never had a man be THAT intimate with her before. Normally, any oral sex that was performed during sex with her, she was the one doing it. Usually, most men she’d been with were either really bad at it, or only cared about themselves.

But this was Dean, and Dean was different. When she looked at him, she didn’t see any judgment there. Just devotion, and caring, and more love than she’d ever been looked at with before, and it was enough to make her agree to it, even though she was a little afraid as he slipped her underwear off of her legs slowly, and centered himself between them, nibbling at her hips and making her giggle as he kissed his way up and down each thigh, avoiding where she desperately needed him the most, teasing.

“So fucking beautiful,” he said before leaning forward and licking a long, fat strip through her dripping center, and fuck if she didn’t damn near arch off of the bed as he devoured her, strong hands ripping her hips tightly as he sucked and licked at her swollen nub until her body was shaking around him, and band winding tighter and tighter until it snapped as suddenly as he’d wound it, and she fell apart like puddy in his hands, causing him to grow at lap at her, determined to take all she had to give him as if he was a man starved.

“Goddammit baby girl,” he swore as he slowly made his way back up her body, leaving little pecks and kisses along his way. “You taste as good as you look.”

Her mind was foggy, her body was limp and drained, and he’d just barely gotten started with her. She swore that this man had to be a fucking capital offense in several states with just his mouth alone, and she didn’t know if she’d actually survive him fucking her. Still, she was gonna try.

She reached for him, and he slowly slipped out of his boxers, revealing himself hard and leaking. God he was gorgeous, she’d never seen a more beautiful man in her life. He was a breathing work of art, and surely Gods or man would never make another more perfect man, and he was hers, she had to be dreaming, but if this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up, ever.

“You okay baby?” he questioned, and she could only nod in response, words failing her. “Cause we can stop, I’m okay, we don’t have to go any further if you don’t want me to.”

“I want you to Dean, I’m fine,” she assured him, and he nodded before gripping himself to line himself up with her dripping center, causing her to gasp as he swiped his thick, spongy tip through her juices. Causing her to shiver.

“Look at me sweetheart, I want you to look at him,” he said, and she did, it took all the strength she had, but she did it, she forced her eyes open, and he slowly pushed himself into her quivering cunt with one smooth thrust that knocked the wind out of her.

The stretch and burn was more than she was used to, her muscles contracted around him as she adjusted to the sheer size and girth of him, and he stayed still there, letting her, not rushing, not pushing, even though it surely took some restraint on his part to stay like that.

“You’re so fucking perfect baby girl, don’t let anyone ever tell you that you’re not,” he told her, kissing her deeply as he slowly started to rock his hips into her, pressing, grinding, helping her move her body along with his own, but never really pull away, instead he kept them locked together, holding onto her like a lifeline for a drowning man, and maybe in away he felt like he was drowning and had been for a long time, she knew she sure as hell felt that way a lot lately, but not now, not with him, she just felt complete; whole for the first time in her life.

“Dean, move,” she begged him, suddenly needing more of him needing to feel him, as he picked up the pace of their movements, grinding himself deeper into her, and driving her higher hand higher with every press of his lips down into her already sensitive clit.

“Not until you cum cause I’m not gonna last long,” he admitted, “cum for me sweetheart,” and she did, as if he had somehow managed to take over completely control of her body, and that’s when he pulled out and began to really trust into her, fucking her through her orgasm that had her vision blurring around the edges, and her body feeling like it was falling and somehow on fire all at the same time.

She came down from her high just in time to watch him fall apart, and fuck if he wasn’t the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen as his body jerked and came to a still deep inside of her as he spilt himself into the condom she didn’t even realized he’d slipped on, but she was thankful that at least one of them was thinking clearly enough to practice some sort of safety.

After a few moments of floating in what felt like something between eternity, and death itself, Dean rolled off of her carefully, leaving her feeling empty and cold before he kissed her carefully, as if she was the most beautiful, most fragile thing he’d ever encountered. “I’ll be right back,” he told her, and slipped into the bathroom to remove the condom from himself, and to return with a warm, damp cloth to clean her up before cleaning himself.

She felt strange, whole, safe, protected. Something she’d never felt before, but more than that, she felt charished, and loved, and fuck if that wasn’t the best, most comforting feeling she’d ever felt in her life as he tucked her into his chest, and wrapped the covers around them safely. Protecting her from all the hurtful, evil things of this world.

Nothing was said, not a word was spoken. But nothing had to be either. She was content just to lay there in his arms, safe, warm, his.

“You know,” she said after a moment of pondering, her mind racing too fast for her to fall asleep. “If you want, I’d love to go and live with you, in the bunker, maybe… I don’t know, help you start your own private investigation firm. I’ve worked with Sam for years, and with lawyers… If you wanna go home, there’s nothing really holding me here. Maybe we can even get Sam to come with us. I think we all need to be together again, but I also think that home is more Kansas for you than Detroit.”

“I like that idea,” Dean said after a while. “I think he will come with us too. I think I’d like to take you home with me. Cause you’re gonna have to be the one to hold me together, cause I’m a mess.”

“I think I can handle that,” she assured him, and she really did. Sam was right. They were meant for one another, and she had no problem being his brother’s keeper. In fact, it was all she ever wanted to be again…

Sam’s POV:

Sam closed the door to his bedroom, and nearly jumped out of his skin at the trench coated figure that stood in the room, facing the window, looking outside at the snow, and for a moment, he was stunned, dumbfounded even.

“Cas?”

Cas turned to face his old friend, his shining blue eyes sparkling in the dim light that filtered the room from the street, and Sam nearly fell to the floor.

“I thought… I thought you were… You’re back?”

“I’m back,” he voiced, walking over towards his overly tall friend, “and I’m here to tell you that now that Dean has his soul mate, it’s time to get back to work, you boys, and Y/N, you got work to do…”

That’s all til next time everyone! Thanks so much for reading!!!