Summary: Y/N always felt out of place. Like she didn’t belong in this life. In this universe. She felt like she belonged and had a purpose somewhere else. Of course she never knew where until something bad happened and led her to her destiny. To her purpose in life.
Chapter trigger warnings: Mentions of suicide, shitty parents, mentions of depression, mentions of low self-esteem, blood, minor character death
A/N: So I just recently thought about this and it has been on my mind recently. Maybe I can turn it into a series maybe not. This is actually one of my longest things I've ever written, positive feedback is always welcome and constructive criticism is nice as long as you are, I am always trying to improve ;) Let me know what ya think!
Your home life wasn’t all what you had hoped it would be, it wasn’t bad but you suppose it wasn’t good either. After years of being bossed around by your mother and all the verbal abuse from your family members, it seemed that life wasn’t turning out like you had hoped. You felt like the walls around you were your cage. How? You have always been told and kept reminding yourself that people had it worse than you, that you had it made. Your mother and father fought constantly while you grew up and still do. You remembered a time when you were younger and hoped they would make amends and it would be better, it never happened. The fighting only got worse as you grew and started to become more aware of the arguments. Pretty soon you couldn’t escape them, they always seemed to happen while you were around. You wondered if they were fighting about you, of course they were. What else would they be fighting about? It has always been you or money, past things that your mother brought up that didn’t matter now.
Both of your parents were quite complex yet strangely simple. Your father was a toxic masculine man, tall and with dark features. He was loud when he got angry, you were constantly afraid of him hitting you but he never laid a finger on you somehow. He was simple. He liked cars, you would help him with them when you were little. He was a mechanic. Honestly they were some of your fondest memories. Even if he was constantly fighting with your mother or really verbal with the abuse he laid into you, he managed to be surprised when you seemed to magically have self-esteem issues. Honestly, heavens no. Not his child.
He was an asshole but there were moments that he wasn’t, you held onto those for your dear life. Like the moments when you were little? The nice memories of the past. They tend to sadden you now that you are older, wishing you could return into that carefree state of mind. Growing up sucked. Bad. Even when you were younger you saw what it turned into. Both of your parents were unhappy with life. It never changed. Even if you liked your father more than your mother, you still always felt uncomfortable around him. You two rarely spoke and when you did it was a question or small talk.
Now your mother? Ha, she was something different than your father who was actually quite laid back. No, your mother was an uptight bitch who constantly rode your ass like a pack mule. Throwing more emotional and mental issues on your back like a load, expecting you to just accept it and move on. With her it was always her way or the highway or so the saying goes, something like that. Even with small things like folding laundry, if you didn't do it her way then she would get pissed off and blame things on you that have no correlation what-so-ever. It was just sad.
You never felt like you deserved any of it. It never sat right with you. Well everything thinks their parents are shit but why you? Isn’t that what everyone thinks?
You held onto the moments where things seemed to be so normal, family outings to the fair every year or walking around the mall. Sure there were still some bickering and banter between the two of them but nothing like the usual. It was nice, you didn’t feel like running away and hiding. Something you often did when you were at home, being in your room all day everyday until your only best friend invited you out with her. She was a nice getaway, a break from your family. Hell, when you were in your teens you’d spend weeks at a time at her house. Her parents were divorced but her mom was cool, she let you drink sometimes. You two still are best of friends, peas in a pod, creme and cookie of the oreo.
Now Anna, your best friend since freshman year of highschool, she was a character. She was your twin flame, or so she called it. Frankly you never heard of the term before she used it and explained it to you one night, you two were at her step-dad’s house in the kitchen. You remembered it vividly.
The blonde haired, blue eyed female was to your right while you stood at the end of the kitchen island, looking at the marbled surface. Y/E/C eyes casted down on the surface under your fingers.
“That’s what i'm saying, we lived virtually the same lives but yet we are different in most aspects.” She said softly but with enthusiasm.
“Hmm?” You zoned out for a moment while she went on a tangent, thinking about a place that isn’t here. You did it more often than you’d like to admit honestly. You rather be hunting with Sam and Dean.
“Y/N, are you listening? Twin flames.” She waved a hand in front of your face to grab your attention.
Your glossy gaze lifted and became clear to focus on your bff. “Huh?” You said again. Sad you didn’t get to finish your thoughts about your hunt in this other world. It all felt so vivid and real until you came falling back into reality. Shit blows.
“Twin flames. That's what we are.” She repeated herself. Maybe she picked up on the blank stare you gave her but when it clicked, she explained. “It's like your twin but not.”
“Helpful.” You nodded sarcastically.
“Y/N i'm serious! Think of tinkerbell and her sister.”
“Periwinkle.” You said before your mind even registered that you knew it, must have been the millions of times you have seen the movies.
“Yes, they don't really look anything alike at all,” She motioned with her hands between the two of you. “They are completely different but work so well with each other like they were made for one another.”
“Like a soulmate?”
“No, well sorta but no.”
“Ya lost me.” You tilted your head and sent her a half smile.
“Ugh nevermind. But you’re my twin flame.”
Those were the good days, when you were around each other constantly. You were fluid and around each other so much that when you were out, people thought you were dating. Of course the two of you would laugh it off and give that person a run for their money on that bet or assumption. That's just how you two were. You were a tomboy and she was a lipstick, it fit. She wasn’t a lesbian, she was bisexual and so scared what you would think when she came out to you. Honestly you just laughed and said you liked boobs too, who doesn’t? They are squishy!
She was great but you always felt like she was just using you for emotional stability sometimes. Of course that’s not a bad thing but like...constantly. You were the less emotional one and when you were, you struggled with showing them. You only cried when you were alone, it took you five years of close friendship with Anna for her to actually see you cry. Of course that just had to be when she needed you to be strong for the both of you. At least in your mind that's how it was supposed to be. She was talking about committing suicide that night and it stuck with you ever since. She grounded you when you were feeling numb. Made the dark days sunny again. She was all you had.
Weakness was never something you took kindly to at all. Probably what you got from your father, you never saw him cry. You were always told to shut up and stop being a baby when you cried, people mocked you constantly. When you were younger you were very emotional but you couldn't help it. You were young. So now that you were older, you never showed it to anyone.
Now here you were, alone in your room, sobbing. One of your patients had died on your table today, he was a nine year old mastiff and his heart was too weak to take a simple knee replacement surgery. You loved big dogs so it only made your heart heavier. You were a veterinary surgeon at a local animal hospital about two miles from your apartment complex. You had many jobs when you were younger; a waitress, bartender, maid, secretary for a human hospital and you of course volunteered at the career center to teach kids about cars when you were available.
Teenage boys were exhausting and sometimes very sexist, thinking it was cool and would get brownie points with any girl to hit home base. That was only until Dakota showed up in your class. She was a whirlwind of hellfire and a demon in lipstick. She basically ran the small shop that you taught in and ran the boys right into the ground.
With a flip of her apple scented hair, they would be on their knees kissing the ground she walked on. Quite empowering even for you to say the least. She looked up to you though, it was nice. You always had that motherly charm about you, always taking care for others and never yourself. It was slowly going to kill you, at least that was what Anna said. You still looked out for others though, even her so frankly how can you?
The dog though, that was hard. Having to tell the family for them to just blow up in your face and blame you for his death. That hurt worse. Low blow to yourself and sadly as these things happen, you spiral. You spiral so much until you are numb, empty and don't care about anything.
You were broken from your thoughts when your phone rang, vibrating on the wooden table. Jesus what time was it? You knew it was late. When you picked up the phone the small clock read 2:34 AM. Who was calling you this late? None other than your bestie had the balls to call you when you should be sleeping.
You wiped your eyes and cleared your voice, answering the call.
“Hey! Knew you'd be awake.” She said cheerfully on the other side of the line.
You smiled, even though she couldn’t see it. “Hey,” it came out as a raspy whisper, you cleared your throat and tried again. “Hi. Well you know, never sleep much anyway.” Insomnia is a bitch. You thought and placed the phone between your ear and shoulder as you shifted. You took the phone and moved it to your other ear.
“Well don’t get comfy, i'm on my way to pick you up, mom misses you and so do I.”
You sighed. “Does anyone in your house sleep?”
“You’re awake too.” She said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Right. Okay well give me some tim-”
“No need, I'm at your door.”
You heard keys in your lock and sighed, hanging up the phone with a click. Anna walked in just as you walked out of your room in a plain grey shirt that went down to your mid thigh and boyshort underwear.
“Sup bitch.” She greeted and you smiled, walking towards her. She hugged you and the two of you sat down on your couch in the living room. You talked about the usual ‘how's work, what have you been up to’ the same old same old small talk. It was nice to see her after a few weeks.
She made herself comfortable on your couch while you got dressed. Going for your usual jeans, band tee and boots. Anna always thought you looked like a total badass and on some days, you felt like it. Tonight wasn't the night though.
You threw your hair up into a messy ponytail to keep it out of your face and grabbed your things, heading out with your friend.
“Mom is excited to see you.” She beamed.
“I'm sure she is, haven't seen you two in a while. Not like I used to. Work has been busy.” You didn’t look at her, afraid she’d see through you.
“I don't believe that, i think you've just been busying yourself with work and using it as an excuse to not get out and socialize.”
Of course without fail, she did. “I'm not.” You said sternly.
“Yeah i'm sure. Y/N you need to get over him. It’s been five months.”
You held your tongue. Easy for you to say, you bat an eye at a man and they fall to your feet. You thought. People avoid me like the plague.
“He cheated on you, you don't need to stress yourself over a man like him.”
“That is three years of my life down the drain Anna.”
“I know it is, i just-”
You cut her off. “You don't know. Your relationships never last longer than a few months at most.”
“Ouch.” Her face fell and she trained her eyes on the road. You turned your head to look at her and you could see tears prick her eyes.
“Sorry. I just- people don't chase after me like they do you. I'm not that girl. I’ve never been that girl. I'm not as pre-”
“I'd chase after you if I were a man. Hell, Y/N/N I’ve been gay for you for years!” You smiled now, the thick tension in the air fading.
“Yeah well we both said that when we turn fifty and we aren't married, we are marrying each other.” You two always said this even after a year of being friends, it was hard for you to trust.
Anna gave you a knowing look and smiled. “Still a promise, sexy bitch.”
You both laughed out loud and you turned up the music she was playing, a comfortability between the two of you.
You dated Chace for three years, friends for four years before that. You couldn’t believe it when you caught him with your ex friend Maddie in your bed together. Well maybe you could, he did say once before when he was drunk that he liked her. You shrugged it off, trying to not let it get to you. Such an idiot for that. Either way it hurt, bad. Anna was there when you reached out to her, just to stay with her until you got back on your feet. Now you live in an apartment down the road from her and you couldn't feel more free. It was safe to say two were really close. You had never been so close with someone that they knew what you were thinking by your face. It was odd. You hid everything from your parents but with her? She saw right through you like you were made of clear glass. It was thick but you could still look in. One time she compared you to lion glass. It was the only thing keeping the lion away from ripping the people into shreds. Metaphor for your emotions.
Of course after spending time with Anna and her mother, you felt better. She had a habit of doing that, cheering you up. She was happy with her new boyfriend, you were happy for her. Better than her being so lonely all the time.
Little did you know this would be the last time you got to see your best friend again.
You woke up alongside her, your head pounding from the night of drinking. You two always shared a bed, a habit you picked up while you were young.
You got up, your feet hitting the softness of the carpet until it felt warm and damp. Groaning you thought you just stepped in dog pee and stepped around it only to feel it again and again. “What the hell?”
You flicked on the light only to be in horror of what was in front of you. Your eyes burned and you immediately felt sick to your stomach, running to the bathroom to throw up the contents. Your mind was just playing tricks on you, this can't be happening. What the actual hell. There were no such things as monsters or ghosts. Freaking Scooby-Doo taught you that the real monsters were people! This is like something out of the show Supernatural you thought to yourself. Gathering yourself up off the bathroom floor, taking a deep breath, a man kicked the door down. You screamed and everything faded to black.
Supernatural. A show you were in love with. It held all the things you were so interested in, angels, demons, Heaven and Hell. All of it. Two very attractive men playing the lead roles of the characters. Sadly you never got to meet them after the show's ending, probably never will. You watched panels and things while you were at home. Wishing you were there to see them in person. Never once did you have the money to just leave to the state or country they were visiting and having a panel in. When they did come to your state, you were out of the country on a school trip. Life is just that way.
So here you were, waking up in a dark musty room. The lamp on the bedside table seems to be your only light source right now, besides the light coming from under the door. Where the hell were you? It felt oddly familiar but you have never been here before. At least not to your waking knowledge. A light knock on the door made you jolt up, your head pounding as you sat up. Your hand came to hold it as a certain tall, long haired man entered.
“Sorry about that, I didn't mean to make you fall, you hit your head on the floor pretty hard. You might have a concussion so take it slow.”
He was right, light hurt. Everything was hazy and slow. You rubbed your eyes and blinked a few times. The male started to come into view. “Jared?”
Summary: Just some fluff about the morning after Dean goes out with friends
Word Count: 800
A/N: I wrote this back when something was going on in my life that made me super annoyed when a girlfriend wouldn’t let her boyfriend hang out alone with his friend who was a girl (or vice versa) and I just wanted something positive and supportive because girls and guys can be just friends and your significant other should trust you enough to not get mad when you hang out with them alone.
*****
“G’morning sweetheart,” Dean’s gruff voice poked through your dissipating unconsciousness and you just grunted in response. It was far too early for words. You loved the man, but somewhere along the line he’d defected from your perfectly fine side of the morning war to become more of a morning person.
Seriously, when had that happened? Mornings were the worst. It was the first thing you two ever agreed on!
“Fuck off,” you groaned, pressing your face further into your pillow.
He just chuckled and kissed your neck, pressing his body alongside yours. “I’d rather fuck you.”
“You disgust me.” Not that you would say no…
“But you love me anyway.”
“I hate that I can’t contest that,” you mumbled before finally turning on your side to face him and opening your eyes. Your heart stuttered at the sight of his sparkling green eyes and bright smile and damn him! He should not be this bright and perky this early in the morning! “What time did you get in last night?”
He trailed his finger over your cheek, the touch barely tickling. “Just after two. Sarah and I got a little carried away at the bar…”
“Well you’re obviously not hungover, so it can’t be that bad, right?”
“It was karaoke night.”
“Oh, god…”
He grimaced and nodded. “Yeah. So, uh, that happened.”
“Please tell me someone recorded it.” Dean, your precious Dean. Handsome as the devil – well, actually more handsome than the devil – and smooth as smooth can be. But get some alcohol in him and put him in front of a microphone and everyone suddenly had the strangest wish for earplugs.
“I hope not. It ended with me punching some douchebag who wouldn’t stop being a dick to Sarah.”
“That’s my boy.”
“We got kicked out.”
“That’s how you know it’s been a good night.”
“And then there was this dick at the diner we stopped at to sober up…”
“Dean…” Now that you’d had a few minutes to wake up, you were alert enough to prop yourself up and reach for his hand, running your fingers over his red knuckles.
His lips quirked up and he withdrew his hand from yours just to wrap his arm around your body and pull you closer. “Next time, you should come out with me and Sarah. Maybe you’ll be able to stop me from doing anything stupid.”
“That’s impossible,” you mumbled, snuggling into his chest. “’Sides, I don’t wanna interrupt your—”
“Y/N?” Dean asked when you broke off suddenly. He managed to urge your face out of his chest enough to see your expression, and when he did, he rolled his eyes. “Oh no. What are you trying to think of?”
“In every other relationship I’ve been in, I’ve been able to refer to a night out with friends as your guy time. But Sarah is a girl. So that phrase won’t work. I need a gender-neutral phrase.”
He sighed, but settled in. He knew you far too well to think that you’d let this go. As soon as your forehead wrinkled in deep thought, you would be on that track until whatever words you were looking for materialized. “We’re just hanging out. You can call it that.”
“That’s not cool enough though. Pals… Play-pal time? No. That could sound dirty. Buddy bonding? That’s… better… Homie hangout just sounds like a seventh grader came up with it.”
“I’ll go get breakfast started,” he said, though you barely heard him as your mind delved into a mental thesaurus.
“Confidant Celebration? No… Confidant Cabal? Is that too political? Cohort Cabal? Comrade Cabal. Now that is definitely too political.”
Dean’s lips on your forehead broke you out of your word haze long enough to watch him pull on a robe and head towards the door. He paused and looked back. “Sidekick soiree?”
“Yes!” you exclaimed, snapping your fingers as everything clicked into place. Now that that was dealt with, you threw back the covers and pulled on an oversized shirt to head out to the kitchen with Dean. “I’d hate to be the third wheel in your sidekick soiree nights.”
He rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around your waist as you both walked out of the room. “You’d never be a third wheel, Y/N/N.”
“Let me use this excuse. I don’t want to tell you the real reason I don’t want to come is because I don’t want to have to hear your karaoke.”
Honestly, you should have known that wasn’t a good thing to say because next thing you knew, he had both arms wrapped around you so you couldn’t escape and he started singing Cherry Pie as loudly as he could.
God, you loved this man but at this moment, you’d rather be anywhere else that didn’t have his tone-deaf tunes echoing through the hallways.
Summary: Just a poem you wrote to Dean one night that he finds.
A/N: Recently I have just came back to writing and in my time that I was away, I got lost in my own mind. I wanted to drown out the world with made up fantasies in my own head that I knew, sadly they would never come true. In that epiphany moment, I have come to terms with it and seeing what the world is for the first time clearly. It is filled with hate and prejudice beyond belief but, it carries so much beauty within the madness. If you just turn off the news and take a moment or two to yourself, by yourself. You can see what I truly mean. This writing has been something that grounds me to beauty and accepting the storm that lays ahead. I know that if you are a Dean person - like myself, you have thought about these things many times when you look into those green eyes. So this writing is to Dean, from you.
The three of you grunted when you all shuffled through the large metal door of the bunker. Good hunt gone bad was honestly all you could say about it. Dean especially took the majority of the beating. Sadly you were captured and tortured for a good bit but nothing too severe, guess you could say you were lucky.
“I call the first shower.” Dean winced when he sat his duffle bag down on the map table.
“Go for it.” You shared and he was on his way down the hall to the showers. Sam however, fled to his room to get some much needed shut eye. He had been staying up all night with doing the research that you all needed to gank this SOB. You were glad that none of you were severely injured but when Dean saw what the demon had done to you, he was quiet. You knew he was probably blaming himself for you getting snagged.
It made quite the uncomfortable two hour long drive to get here, that's for sure. He wouldn’t even look at you from the rearview mirror.
You carried your things to your room that you two shared and started to unpack, prepping clothes to be washed and putting things back in their rightful places while Dean was getting clean.
Shortly after you got situated Dean came in and you gave him a signature half smile, him not returning the gesture. You furrowed your brows and huffed. “Are you going to keep giving me the silent treatment or are we going to talk about this. I'll say it again D, it’s not your fault what happened. It’s mine, I wasn’t on guard when I should have been and I paid the price.”
He sighed and turned his back to you.
“Fine.” You slammed your notebook that you were holding on the bedside table and grabbed your clothes to shower, leaving the room without another word.
Your prized notebook that you kept, it was full of stories, journal entries, poems, drawings. Anything you thought of the time to fill a page. It was honestly the only thing keeping you sane at this point with hunting. You took it with you everywhere. It was a small leather bound pocket book but it held many of your precious moments and secrets.
The leather bound book was open though, on a freshly written page. Maybe a week old or two at most. It caught Dean’s eye when he saw it, it looked to be a letter. His eyes looked to the open door and back at the book. Surly you wouldn’t come back at least for a little while longer, Dean was curious. Before he knew what he was doing he sat down on your side of the bed, picked up the little book in his large hands and his eyes drifted over the words.
Kind eyes that burn with red hot rage can only be missed once the moment is gone. The passion behind the melancholy sweet heart that weighs heavy like the weight, on your shoulders. I am but humble as you keep me, never letting my true feelings for you fully show or that they might scare you away perhaps I will never know.
Originally when I met you I took kindly to your kindness, your presence alone envelopes me like a warm blanket over a cold stone. Of course that is only a metaphor to my cold heart, or so it would seem. Nothing but your soft smile that makes my heart gleam.
For seeing you truly happy, even for a moment. I can't help but to stop and stare, afraid you wont show it. Because being happy means there is a sadness, a sadness that knows no boundaries, no race, no color, it sees what it wants and leaves you to suffer.
You drink to not feel, not think but honestly even you can't escape from the thoughts that drag you down. We are one of the same, you and I. We know what it is like to lose everything you’ve had, feeling your sanity slip through your fingers again and again, once more for good measure.
You keep me humble, the fire inside of me burns brightly when you’re around. You take my pain and my heavy thoughts away. You take away all the hurt and suffrage I have ever felt like it is rightfully yours to gain. You might not know it but you have saved my life time and time again, I'm not talking about hunts because we both know we all make simple mistakes. I've saved your ass too if we are talking in that sense of case. I mean the thought of you has saved me, saved me when I was too far gone to ask for help. You reached out your calloused, gentle hand and raised me from the darkness that we have fought together. You saved me when I thought I couldn’t be saved, once, twice, three times and many more. When I pushed away your hand, you're a stubborn man and reached out once more.
You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, always looking out for others and never yourself until things get bad. I can't explain the feeling I feel when I see you sad, it’s like I can't breathe because you are the breath in my lungs. You are the glue that holds me together. Your happiness makes me feel light as a feather. When I see that you are sad, I try everything in my care, taking care of you is something I enjoy even if you say it’s not fair.
You see yourself as someone you hate, despising your existence, like being bad is your fate. As I take your face in my hands, thumbing away the hot tears that you cry. I can't help but to cry with you, the pain like feeling that I might die. Seeing you sad hurts me beyond repair so it would seem but then you go and smile and I'm better once more.
You are not a monster, Dean Winchester. You are a man that is kind, loving and gentle. You can not make yourself up into something you simply are not to be. My love for you is unconditional, that is true. It is pure, and my heart belongs to you. I see now that you are more than what you show, the walls you have put up come crashing down to rubble, looking like dark snow. I love you, Dean Winchester. I always have, from the moment I saw you. I could say it over again, pleasure when you ask me to. When the pad of your thumb runs over my bottom lip, I utter those three words that make your heart skip. The hitch in your breath when I put my lips upon yours, sends a shiver down my spine, something I’ve learned to love, your touch feels so divine.
When I tell you I love you, I mean it wholeheartedly. When I tell you I love you, I mean it with every breath that I breathe. I can’t imagine anyone I would ever want to be with if it isn’t you. I can’t imagine being anywhere else if not in your strong arms that hold me so tight. Dean Winchester you are the light of my life, I am so glad that I met you. Falling in love with you everyday seems to only be a dream that I am afraid I might wake up soon. As I pour my heart out into these words that I write I have to end it soon but what can I say that hasn’t already been said? You mean more to me than you'll ever know, so keep your head held high king, I have more to show. Yours truly, Y/N
Wow. Was this really what you thought of him? A tear slipped down his cheek, and before he could wipe it away, your hand did it for him.
Dean looked up at you from where he sat, his eyes searching yours for anything that would make these words false but he found nothing. In a swift movement, Dean put the book to the side and pulled you down, capturing your lips with his in a sweet but needy kiss. Finally when you both pulled away, breathless, he laid his forehead against yours. “This true?” He asked softly, never above a whisper.
“Every word.” You smiled, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as well.
“I love you too.” Was all he said before he pulled you in for a kiss once more.
Read the fic based on the song that started this whole Dylan Scott drabble shenanigan: Hooked by Dylan Scott (788 words) Song 5 from Deluxe Edition
—–*—–
In all of his years on the road, never before had Dean seen anyone like you.
Forget one in a million; Dean knew from one glance that you were once in a lifetime.
He was holding up the bar as the cover band hyped up everyone in the bar. The bar was packed on this Friday night, but the bartender managed to keep Dean’s mug of beer full. Before he could forget, Dean pulled out a few bills and blindly slid them across the bar for a tip.
The way your hips were moving on that dance floor was hypnotizing and Dean knew he’d forget to tip later. Especially when your eyes met across the room and you smiled at him. The ground could swallow him up at that moment and he wouldn’t care. That sparkle in your eye and toss of your hair was just about giving him a heart attack anyway.
“Dean? Dean!” Fingers snapped in front of his face and Dean reluctantly looked over at Sam.
He replied in a testy snap: “What?”
“The case? I was telling you that I think I got something—”
“Can it wait ‘til morning?”
Sam hesitated before answering. “Well, I guess s—”
“Then loosen up, Sammy!” Dean motioned to the bartender for another mug of beer for his brother. “Have a drink.”
The next second, Dean’s eyes found your form again and he was gone. Your arms were raised above your head, bright red lips pulled back in a carefree smile, and a sheen of sweat across your skin from the dancing.
He’d never seen anyone more beautiful in his entire life.
Then your eyes were back on Dean’s and he was entranced. He had a vague memory of saying something to Sam, but if you asked him later, he would have no idea what was said. All he knew was that he pushed his way through the crowd in a haze. The pull was magnetic and he couldn’t stop until you were right in front of him.
“Hey, handsome,” your voice sounded even better than the cover band. Then your arms reached up to rest on his shoulders, fingers massaging through his hair and he was almost sure he was dead. Nothing could feel this good, could it? “Got tired of watching?”
“Could never get tired o’ watching you, sweetheart.” God, your waist felt so good under his fingers. As the band wound down to a slower song, he pulled you closer, lowering his lips to your ear. “Just missed you.”
He was losing his damn mind with the way your body was pressing against his.
“Remember when we first met?” Your voice was the only sound in this bar. That twinkle in your eyes was the only thing that mattered. “It was a bar just like this.”
“You were dancing just like that.”
“And it took you over an hour to get the courage to come dance with me.”
“That’s cause I didn’t dance, sweetheart.”
“Not until you met me.”
He couldn’t help himself. Dean dragged one of his hands up your back and cupped your cheek, turning your face to his for a kiss. Just like every kiss before, he couldn’t believe it when you kissed him back. How a girl like you would ever end up with a guy like him was beyond him, but he was so goddamn grateful. You were his everything.
“Mmm,” you hummed against his lips before pulling back. “And you kissed me just like that.”
“Then you practically dragged my ass to your hotel room.”
“And you were still there the next morning. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Baby, I couldn’t leave.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
A smug grin slipped onto his lips. “That so?”
You wiped that grin off his lips with a kiss.
Fuck, he could kiss you all day. When he’d woken up next to you all those months ago, he knew that he needed you in his life. Despite everything in his life that screamed at him to keep you safe, keep you away… he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t push you away.
From that first look at the bar he’d known.
He was all yours.
“Y/N,” he whispered, pulling away from your lips. “Marry me.”
Your eyes widened and he just couldn’t shut up.
“I love you so goddamn much. I couldn’t leave you that morning because when I woke up next to you, it was like I could see myself waking up next to you every morning for the rest of my life. Every time you touch me, it’s like I’m a kid again. I just can’t get enough of you, Y/N.”
Summary: Your best friend, Dean, plans the perfect day for the two of you
Word Count: 775
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Now what?” You asked once you’d polished off the sandwiches Dean pulled from his bag.
“Now, we swim.”
“We just ate.”
“If we cramp,” Dean said, tossing everything into a bag that he’d announced was the garbage bag, “then the rabid mountain men will eat well tonight. C’mon, sweetheart. Live on the edge.”
How could you ever hope to say no to his perfect, deep green eyes? That playful grin? His calloused hand, reaching out to pull you up?
Dean was already in the water when you emerged from behind the blanket he’d tied between two trees for a privacy screen. Before you knew it, your camera was in your hand and Dean was the subject. “Hey, Dean!” You called, drawing his attention to you. “You should float on your back and spit water in the air like a whale.”
“Did you just call me a whale?” He acted offended.
“Killer whale,” you shot back, “Just like your smile.”
Your heart stuttered when he aimed that killer smile your way before dunking himself under water and resurfacing to float just as you’d asked. It took a few minutes to get that perfect shot, but eventually you got it and Dean talked you into the water.
The sun was starting to dip behind the trees when Dean got out of the water. You stayed in, determined to lounge in the pond until it was too cold. It wasn’t often you could go swimming somewhere other than a pool and you weren’t about to waste the opportunity.
By the time you got out of the water, Dean had laid out a towel for you, had a fire going, and a tent pitched.
“How the hell did you fit all of this into your bag?”
“A magician never reveals his secrets.”
Accepting his answer, you took a moment to dry off and change into some warmer clothes. “So I assume we’re spending the night here?”
“Surprise number three, which you aren’t going to like as well: Sunrise. You’ve never seen a mountain sunrise, right?”
“Nope, and I can’t say I’ve ever wanted to.”
“You didn’t want to hike either, but I bet you’ll be glad you did when you get those pictures on your computer in a few days.”
“I’m already glad I did.” It was a rare moment of pure sincerity and you couldn’t tear your eyes from his. It was probably a good thing there was a literal fire in between you two, because dammit you wanted to kiss him. “Thank you, Dean.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
It wasn’t long before the sky started its nightly performance and, once again, your camera was in your hands. Cool mountain air, bright colors in the sky, silhouettes of trees, and Dean… what more could you ask for?
When you got all of the pictures you felt you needed, you set the camera down and took a few steps forward, just taking everything in. Eyes closed, chin up, hair blowing in the breeze… the earth stood still.
The familiar click of your camera’s shutter brought you back and you looked over your shoulder to see that Dean had picked up your camera and pointed it towards you. “Sorry, you just looked so… peaceful. Beautiful.”
Beautiful. “It’s okay,” you whispered. “I’ve been taking pictures of you all day. It’s only fair, I suppose.”
“Smile, sweetheart,” Dean raised the camera to his eye once more and you complied.
After he’d taken five pictures in quick succession, you laughed and broke the pose. “Is that really necessary?”
He skipped backwards, still taking pictures of you as you advanced on him. It was only when he nearly stumbled that he stopped and you caught up, a hand on his wrist lowering the camera. “There can never be too many pictures of you, sweetheart.”
“My hair is probably a mess after airdrying and definitely smells like campfire. Trust me, we should definitely limit the pictures of me right now.”
“Never,” he whispered, raising his free hand to push some of your hair behind your ear. Heart stuttering, you could only keep your eyes on his face. “Y/N, you are… utterly fantastic.”
“Dean, I—”
“I wanna kiss you, Y/N,” his words were barely audible, leaving you to wonder if it had been your imagination.
But, no. His hand was resting on your cheek, head tilting towards yours, eyes dropping to your lips…
“Please do,” you breathed, barely daring to hope. His lips were nearly on yours before a thought flickered in your mind. “But please don’t drop my camera.”
Your lips pulled up at his laughter just as he kissed you in a picture-perfect moment.
Summary: Your best friend, Dean, plans the perfect day for the two of you
Word Count: 920
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Alright, next surprise,” Dean said. The last few notes on the tape ended and it stopped, signaling the end of the tape. Had he planned everything down to the minute? After all, he was starting to slow down and pull off onto a mountain road.
“We’re going to get murdered by some rabid mountain men?” You guessed.
“You are. I’m not. I have to live to tell the tale.”
“Why can’t I tell the tale?”
“Because you’ll be dead.”
“How about they murder you and I live to tell the tale?”
“Or neither of us could get murdered.”
“Maybe we murder them?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Dean agreed with a decisive nod. “Or we could stick with my original plan and go hiking somewhere that I promise you’ll get the best pictures for your senior project.”
“I haven’t found any inspiration for my project in weeks and you really think a hike is going to help? Exercise?”
Apparently, he’d expected this from you because he just laughed and pulled off the road, turning off the car. “Ever hear of endorphins?”
“From Legally Blonde, yes.”
“Then do you trust me?”
With narrow eyes, you pretended to consider your answer very carefully. “Fine. But I think I’d rather be murdered by rabid mountain men than exercise.”
The two of you donned your gear and bags and headed for a barely visible trail through the woods. For the first little bit, it wasn’t so bad. Being outside was a nice change of pace from your secretary job where you sat inside all day. However, when the trail got steeper, your complaints became more eloquent.
“I’m feeling very violent and want to rip every single bush out of the ground right now.”
Dean just pushed ahead with a chuckle. “That sure sounds like a lot more exercise than we’re doing now.”
“Where are those rabid mountain men? I want to feed you to them.”
“That’d be a shame. I’m pretty sure you’d get lost without me.”
“Stop being so logical. I’m trying to be dramatic.”
Needless to say, it was a long three years. Or, according to Dean, a long hour and a half.
The sound of trickling water hit you just before the trees cleared and gave way to a gorgeous, lush grove surrounding a small waterfall feeding into a large pond. “Oh my god.”
“You like it?” Dean asked, as if there was any question. You could already see the best angles for photos as titles flew through your mind.
But you couldn’t let him off that easy. “You brought me up here so I could drown you for making me hike for three years? You’re the best!”
“Just take out your damn camera and take some pictures.”
As soon as your camera was in your hand, your entire mood shifted to photography. This grove was the closest you’d ever come to paradise. Small, budding flowers drew your attention first. Soft pink globes against the bright green grasses created the perfect background to play around with the focus. Soon, you had several pictures with various levels of focus. For more than an hour, you wandered around, finding new angles and subjects. At one point, you sat still for half an hour and the wildlife started wandering back in.
A mischievous squirrel slowly leapt towards you, coming within three feet of you before scurrying away. You, of course, captured the entire journey of that brave squirrel.
After an hour, you remembered that you weren’t alone and looked around for Dean, smiling when you saw him on the other side of the pond, a book laid on a rock as he wandered around, looking at the ground. Unable to help yourself, you snapped a picture of him as he picked up a rock, turned it over in his hand, then replaced it on the ground again. This happened a few more times before he found what he was looking for and he walked to the edge of the pond. Camera at the ready, you caught his process as he focused on skipping the rock. Four rippling circles later, the rock sunk into the middle of the pond.
“You can do better than that!” You raised your voice to be heard across the clearing.
“Why don’t you come over here and show me how it’s done?”
With a confident shrug, you stood and wandered over to him. Sure, you weren’t big on exercising, but you did grow up with brothers and always felt the need to show them up. You could sure as hell skip a rock more than Dean could.
As carefully as you could, you set your camera on Dean’s book and went in search of the perfect skipping rock. Certain you found it, you nudged Dean aside to stand exactly where he had. You knew him all too well to anticipate any sort of cheating discourse.
“This is how you do it,” you stated, practicing your throw a few times before flicking your wrist perfectly and watching the rock skip once… twice… three times… and a fourth before sinking. “Fuck.”
Dean’s loud, unrestrained laughter rang out into the sky, soothing your disappointment at meeting Dean’s record, but not beating it. “What was that again, sweetheart? Looks like we’re tied.”
“Oh, you are so on.”
It seemed like forever that the two of you competed to throw the most skips. Finally you gave up when both of you hit seven skips and the rocks ended up on the other side of the pond.
Summary: Your best friend, Dean, plans the perfect day for the two of you
Word Count: 632
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Half an hour into the drive, you stopped questioning Dean. He was clearly going to take this secret to his grave, and you’d much rather relax and enjoy the day with him.
“Alright. First surprise of the day,” Dean started, cutting into your horrible rendition of Crazy Train. “Look in the glove box.”
“A surprise that fits in the glovebox,” you said, trying to hide your intense curiosity. He’d taken his time dragging out any indication of the plans for the day, so you figured he could sweat it out a little waiting for you to reveal the first prize. “I wonder what it could be. It must be small, because I know how much shit you keep in there.”
“It’s not shit!”
“It’s papers that you’ll never use. I swear I saw a receipt for tires from twenty years ago in there!”
“I keep everything for the warranty, unlike you, who couldn’t tell an oil pan from a bed pan.”
“Pretty sure there are no tires with twenty year warranties, Dean,” you said dryly with a teasing smile.
He snorted, but ignored that last jab. “Just open the box, you little shit.”
Finally giving in, you unlatched the door to the glove box and saw a small box with a ribbon tied around it. It was light and rectangular, you noted as you tore off the wrapping paper, almost like a— “A cassette tape?”
“Flip it over.”
“Y/N’s Birthday Mix,” you read aloud. “Oh my god, Dean. You made me a mix tape?”
“You’re in my car often enough,” he explained with a tinge of pink on his cheeks. “Figured we should have some of your music in here sometimes.”
Flipping the tape over and over in your hands, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Dean. “Oh my god, Dean” you repeated, “This is… amazing. I can’t even imagine how long it took you to find the equipment. Finding blank CDs is hard enough nowadays, much less cassette tapes.”
“Well, you gonna put it in or not?”
“That’s what she said,” you said reactively, earning a muttered “little shit” from Dean. Even so, you ejected the Ozzy tape from the stereo and put in your new mix tape. Olivia O’Brien’s humming played over the speakers as her song Tequilawine started.
“This is one of my favorite songs,” you said softly, looking from the stereo to your green-eyed best friend.
He nodded, shooting you a quick glance. “I know.”
Damn it if you weren’t in love with him. You hadn’t let him know, of course. Rocking the boat had never been your thing. If something was going good, you kept everything as it was. In your experience, rocking the boat sent you overboard into the tar.
But he was just so damn cute with that blush and nervous tapping on the steering wheel that you couldn’t help yourself.
You leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Dean. I love it,” you whispered before pulling back and settling into your seat.
“I’m glad. I’m… really glad, sweetheart.”
As you settled back into your seat, you had the premonition that today was going to be one of the best days of your life.
The first song ended and was replaced with Saturday by Khalid, another of your favorites. “You know,” you started, breaking the comfortable silence between you two. “I can’t remember where I heard or read it, but I remember someone saying that listening to a new CD is like opening a new present with each song that comes on.”
“In that case, with all the songs on that mix tape, there should be enough presents to get me through the next few birthdays and Christmases, right?” He asked playfully, earning him a push to the shoulder.
