Request: Can you do a reader where she is turning twenty one, and the boys don’t want to celebrate, but Claire and her sneak out and Claire ends up taking her to a club, and she gets wasted AF, and they have to sneak back into the bunker, but they get caught. - Anonymous
Pairings: Dean x Reader; Sam x Reader
Warnings: Drinking; drunkenness; overly protective Dean; protective Sam; the tiniest bit of language; angst; fluff
Word Count: 2.1k
Author’s Note: Thank you for the request, Nonnie! I had fun writing this one! For the sake of this story, let’s assume Claire is also 21-years-old.
“What do you think?"
Tufts of gold lame billowed as you twirled in your birthday dress. Sam and Dean sat opposite each other at the library table, both wearing a similar shade of bitch face.
"No.” Sam stated flatly.
“Nope.” Dean agreed. “You’re not going out like that.”
“Like what?” you challenged.
“Like,” Dean struggled to find the words, “like some floozy.”
“Floozy?!” You looked down at your dress, confused and angered by Dean’s response. The skirt hit just above your knee, and while the neckline didn’t leave much to the imagination, it was far more tasteful than anything you’d ever seen on the women Dean liked to bring home.
You tried to compose yourself with a deep breath. You knew Dean’s overprotective nature could get the better of him, and his criticism of your appearance was his way of showing that he cared. Winchester men had many strengths but emotional expression was not one of them.
“I’m a 21-year-old woman,” you calmly reminded him, “I’m not asking permission to wear this dress, I’m showing it to you.”
“Don’t sass me, young lady!”
While you could appreciate Dean’s well intentions, your patience always faltered when his safeguarding shifted to defensive bickering. You knew you had to stand your ground.
“Or what?” You stared him down. “What are you gonna do about it, old man?”
“I will lock you in your room.” Dean threatened without hesitation, not even acknowledging your insult.
“I’d like to see you try.” you dared.
Sam and Dean shared a quick look before standing in tandem and marching toward you. They each grabbed one of your arms and began dragging you backward. Unable to keep up with their long strides in your heels, you lost your footing.
“Oh, come on!” you squirmed in their grip. “Let me go! I’m serious!”
Sam and Dean stopped short when they reached the entrance of your room, both of them stifling laughter.
“Thank you.” you scoffed, as they released your arms. You smoothed your hands over your dress, grateful that it wasn’t wrinkled during their antics. You stepped forward, but Sam and Dean didn’t budge.
“Go change, Y/N.” Dean’s tight smirk had been replaced with a stoic glare. You knew at that moment he was a lost cause, so you tried the puppy. You could always count on Sam to be level headed and talk Dean down when he got like this.
“Sammy, help me out here.” You flashed him the sweetest smile you could.
“I’m not gonna fight him on this one, Y/N/N.” Sam’s face was surprisingly stern.
“SAMMY!”
“Y/N, I’m not kidding around.” Dean’s voice slipped into a register not unlike his father’s. “Change, or you’re staying in.”
Dean knew he was being unreasonable, but the idea of men ogling you all night scared the living crap out of him, and if yelling was the only way to keep you from the unwanted attention of grimy bar crawlers, then so be it.
"Come with me!” you compromised. Normally you didn’t barter with the boys when they were being this difficult, but it was your 21st birthday. You didn’t want to change, you looked and felt great, and you certainly weren’t going to celebrate in the drab, concrete confines of the bunker. “You can punch any man who gets within fifteen feet of me!”
“No.” Dean said definitively. “You’re changing, or you’re staying in.”
Sam saw all of the hope and anticipation drain from you, and he quickly tried to remedy the situation.
“We can have a party here!”
“There you go!’” Dean became patronizingly excitable, hoping to reverse the tense atmosphere he created. “Sammy’ll fix you a drink, I’ll cook a nice dinner. Hell, I’ll even let you shoot my new gun!”
“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t really feel like celebrating anymore.” Your mouth creased in a solemn pout.
“Y/N/N, it’s your birthday!” Sam encouraged.
“Doesn’t feel like it.” You hung your head and retreated into your room, softly closing the door behind you.
Two hours later, Sam entered the kitchen to find every inch of counter space in disarray.
“What’s going on in here?”
“I was too hard on her.” Dean mumbled, whisking aggressively. His focus remained on the bowl in front of him, but Sam could still make out his expression of regret.
“I just don’t want anyone messing with her.” Dean shook his head, knowing the justification of his actions didn’t matter. He had hurt you, on your birthday no less, and he felt awful.
“So you’re mutilating all of our baking ingredients?”
Dean finally looked up to acknowledge his brother’s presence.
“I’m trying to make her a birthday cake,” he admitted with defeat.
“Softy.” Sam teased.
“Bitch.”
“Jerk.”
Dean surveyed the mess he’d made and sighed.
“She’ll be okay, Dean.” Sam promised, also needing to hear the words for himself.
“I don’t know, man. I’ve never been that hard on her.”
Sam understood his brother’s remorse, having been an accomplice himself.
“Why don’t you go talk to her, and I’ll start cleaning up in here.”
“Thanks, Sammy.” Dean clapped Sam on the back as he left the kitchen, leaving a perfect, hand-shaped flour imprint on his flannel.
“I can’t believe you snuck out!” Claire exclaimed, taking a swig of her beer.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m very proud.” She flashed a mischievous smile. “It’s just so not you.”
“Dean went too far, this time.” you exasperated, bending forward to line up your shot. “He doesn’t get to treat me like a child anymore! I know they found me when I was young, but I’m a grown woman now!” you asserted, driving your cue into the ball for emphasis.
“At least you have someone looking out for you.” Claire demurred.
“I’m sorry, Claire.”
“No, no.” She set down her beer. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” She sunk a ball into the corner pocket and turned to face you.
“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but Dean was only trying to protect you. He loves you. They both do.”
“When did you become the voice of reason?” you demanded, trying to skirt the truth.
“You know I’m right.”
“I know,” you groaned, “I just wish their love didn’t come at the cost of my freedom and mental stability!”
“Dean’s right too, you know.” Claire pointed the neck of her nearly empty beer bottle at you. “That dress does make you look like a floozy.”
“Claire!” you bellowed, playfully shoving her. “You’re the one who lent it to me.”
Claire laughed and grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the bar.
“Come on!” she cheered. “You’ve got some catching up to do.”
“Dean, would you sit down?” Sam gestured to the chair next to him. “You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor.”
Dean had been pacing the length of the library ever since finding your empty room.
“No, Sam. I can’t sit. Y/N is missing!”
“She’s not missing.” Sam reiterated for what felt like the hundredth time. “She snuck out.”
“What if someone took her? What if something took her? Why won’t she answer her phone?” Dean wondered frantically through gritted teeth.
“Might have something to do with you calling her a floozy and then locking her in her bedroom on her birthday.” Sam sassed.
Dean shot Sam a look that let his younger brother know to keep his mouth shut. Sam said nothing and returned to his book.
After a moment of strained silence, Dean stood.
“I can’t take it anymore.” he said, reaching for his coat. “I’m going to look for her.”
Just as Dean grabbed his keys, the distinct sound of a car door echoed through the bunker, followed closely by your laughter.
“Thank God.” Sam breathed.
Dean took Sam’s relief as a slight to his own grating worry, but the younger Winchester had also been quietly concerned for your safety, which became immediately clear when he dropped his book to the ground and hurried to the garage.
“Dammit, Y/N!” Claire whispered loudly. “The whole point of sneaking in is to, ya know, sneak back in.”
“Shhhh.” you mocked, crouching low to the ground. Walking in that stance proved difficult, and you toppled over, erupting into another fit of laughter.
“It’s very hard to believe you’re a trained hunter, right now.” Claire deadpanned.
You managed to hoist yourself back on your feet only to find Claire frozen in place. You followed her gaze to the other end of the garage and saw Sam and Dean leaning against the tool bench. Claire’s eyes were wide with fear, but you were too far gone to care what the boys thought of your drunken state.
“SAMMY!” you squealed, running to him. “I love you!"
You flung your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. You pulled back and were met with his bewildered expression.
"Such a pretty pony!” you marveled, stroking his hair like a mane.
“Is this your doing?” Sam asked Claire.
She held up her hands in surrender.
“DEANOSAUR!” you lightheartedly shoved Sam over, lunging at Dean.
“Hey, kiddo.” Dean couldn’t help but reciprocate your hug, and he wrapped his arms around you. “Did you have fun?”
You looked up at Dean, surprised by his lack of anger, and flashed him an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry I left without telling you.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N/N.” Dean assured. “I didn’t really leave you much of a choice. I’m sorry for being a stubborn ass.”
“It’s okay,” you ruffled his hair, “I know it’s cause you love me.”
“Now that is my doing.” Claire commented as she walked toward the group.
“Did you drive here?” Dean questioned.
“I only had one beer.” Claire defended, but Dean and Sam eyed her suspiciously.
“I’m serious!” Claire pandered to the boys, closing her eyes and touching each index finger to her nose in turn.
Sam and Dean nodded at each other in satisfaction, but you stood with a knit in your brow.
“Claire,” you rasped, “That’s the dumbest dance I’ve ever seen."
Sam could no longer hold back his laughter, and he let out a loud snicker.
"Thanks, Claire.” Dean placed a hand on her shoulder. “You wanna come in? It’s getting late, you’re welcome to stay."
"Nah, I’m okay to drive, and I’d rather sleep in my own bed."
"Claire! Are you leaving me?!” You forced a clownish frown and crossed your arms.
“You’ll see me soon!” she promised. “I had fun with you tonight!"
"Thank you for taking me out after these losers,” you held up your hand to shield the finger you were pointing at the boys, “tried to IMPRISON ME.”
Claire rolled her eyes and patted you on the head.
“Not like they could have stopped me anyway. I got these!” You held up your fists and squatted into a fighting stance.
“What are you gonna do with those Tyson?” Dean joked before noticing the knuckles on your right hand were red and raw. “Y/N, did you hit someone tonight?”
“YES!” you beamed proudly. “I punched a guy at the bar!”
“Why would you do that?” Sam interrogated, taking your hand to examine the damage.
“He tried to grab my ass."
"What?!” Dean went from amused to enraged in seconds.
“Don’t worry.” You nonchalantly waved him off. “He couldn’t."
"Why’s that?"
"Well, after I punched him, I broke his hand."
Dean and Sam looked to Claire for confirmation, and she emphatically nodded “Yes” before slipping into her car. Dean smiled proudly.
"That’s my girl."
"I broke it so good, Dean. I broke it so hard.” Sam and Dean had to bite the inside of their cheeks to refrain from laughing.
“I’m amazing.” you whispered, turning to stare at your reflection in the Impala.
As Claire drove away, Sam came to stand next to you, and your look of pride and admiration melted into one of uncertainty. You slowly turned to face Sam.
“Sammy?"
"Y/N/N, what’s wrong?”
"Sam?” This time your voice was small and scared. Sam and Dean inched closer to you, concern pushing aside their amusement.
“I’m right here, Y/N/N.” Sam took your hand in his.
“Sammy,” you swallowed, then declared with all the sincerity in the word, “There are two of you."
This time, Dean was the one who was unable to contain his laughter.
"Okay slugger,” Sam gently grabbed your wrist and lifted your arm around his neck, “Let’s get you to bed.”
The second you were in his arms, you relaxed and let out a dramatic yawn. By the time Sam reached your bedroom, you were already asleep.
Sam laid you down before taking off your shoes and tucking you in.
“Man she is entertaining when she’s drunk.” Sam remarked, joining Dean in your doorway.
“You’re telling me."
Both brothers watched your sleeping form and smiled quietly.
"I’m glad she had some fun.” Dean confessed.
“Me too.” Sam agreed.
“I’m putting a padlock on her bedroom door, though."
The last thing Dean expected to see when he came out of the bathroom was some dude leaning over Cas at the pool table.
They had come out for a couple beers, some good music and food, not for some asshat to hit on his angel.
As he approached their table and sat down heavily, Sam looked at him like this wasn’t completely different, like it’s something he should’ve already known.
“He’s expressed his indifference to gender tons of times Dean, and it’s always seemed like that applies to the people he’s attracted to, too.” He sat back and took a sip of his beer, “I don’t know why this is so surprising to you-” Sam let out a deflated sigh as Dean got up abruptly and stormed towards the pool game, apparently not as surprised at his brother’s reaction as he initially let on.
“What’s goin on here?” Dean asked as he reached the velvet green table.
Mid thirties, light brown hair, well groomed, throughly tipsy. But he wasn’t even that cute. Cas could do better.
“He was lookin’ a little lost with the pool que, just thought I’d help.” the stranger answered with a smirk. Dean wanted to punch the smug look right off his face.
He clenched his fists, “Well you’re done helping, buddy.”
“Jeez man,” the guy said, throwing his hands up defensively and taking a step back. “I was just tryin’a show him a good time.”
“Why don’t you get lost before I show you a good time” Dean spat out.
He’s always been bad at comebacks, but he thinks he got the general message across.
“Dean!” Cas called sternly as the guy walked away.
He turned to face the angel, grabbing his trench coat by the shoulder and shaking it firmly, “What were you doing messing around with that guy Cas?”
“I was attempting... to have an enjoyable experience, Dean.” Castiel said, pulling away.
“You shouldn’t ‘a been!” Dean huffed, letting go of his coat.
“You seem to have no issues with me making advances towards women,” Cas contended coolly, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah well,” Dean took a step back and ran a hand across his face, embarrassed, with no way to explain what he really meant, or what he meant to mean, “that’s different.”
“How?” The angel demanded. Resolve unwavering.
Dean let out a frustrated sigh. “It just is.”
He started walking back towards the bar but turned around. He’s been an asshole this far, why not keep going?
“And I mean, since when are you into guys?”
Too much emphases on the word guys, and he really shouldn’t wave his hands around like that. He was making a scene.
“Have you ever even slept with one?”
He realized he might not like the answer as Cas flushed dark red. Maybe there was things he didn’t know about the angel. White hot rage planted itself deep in his gut.
“No” Castiel admitted to the dingy wood floors, and Dean let out a breath he hadn’t know he was holding.
“Then how are you even supposed to know you like them?” He bit back quickly, before the relief became too evident on his face.
“Maybe if you left me alone I would have found that out, Dean.”
“Yeah or maybe that guy would’ve forced you into something you didn’t want to do.”
Cas paused, “you really think I would let something like that happen to me?” He took a step back and met his eyes, unbelieving.
Dean sighed and shook his head, “look I don’t know what to think Cas, but it seems to me like every time you slept with someone they were manipulating you!” He threw his hands up to start counting. “You’ve got creeper lady who found you in the woods and just decided to keep you, you’ve got the reaper who slept with you to get info on Metatron and then tortured your ass, I don’t even want to get into whatever that thing you and Kelly had cause she bore the spawn of Satan man and I don’t know what that says about character for you but for me- I mean, hell, even Meg only kissed you that once for your angel blade!”
He was an asshole, a big, giant, gaping, asshole.
Cas shook his head in disbelief, tears welling up in his eyes and his lips drawn tight with anger. He opened his mouth to say something, but it seemed there were too many words to choose from, so he settled on nothing.
This isn’t what Dean wanted, he wanted Cas to scream and yell at him, to shove him into the wall and say all the unspoken things between them, to beat the living shit out of him if he wanted to. Anything else but just standing there with a hurt look and a clenched jaw. Even a glance over to Sammy told him he had majorly, fucked up.
Cas turned around.
“Cas wait...” he called, voice immediately thick with remorse and shame, but the angel was already out the door.
When he turned back to Sam he looked pissed. Like, ‘I swear to god Dean if you don’t go out there right now I will come over there and kick your ass’ pissed.
Nothing was as easy and as hard as pushing open those double doors.
“Cas wait man I’m sorry.” Shit, it was raining outside, great. Dean attempted to shield his face, but it was about as useless as his apology.
“You know this really isn’t as romantic as it looks in the movies” he called out, as his boots slowly filled with water, and he could swear he saw the shake of laughter in Cas’ chest from behind.
“Romantic.” the angel repeated back coldly, and Dean could tell it wasn’t just the rain making his voice wet and uneven.
“Cas look man, I didn’t mean t-” he stopped himself as he laid a hand on the outside of Cas’ soaked through trench coat.
The angel turned around, the wetness of his tears mixing with the rain on his face, the pain and desperation clear in those deep blue eyes. He had never looked so broken before, and Dean knew then, the promise of “don’t ever change” had died long ago, and he had never even stopped to mourn it’s passing.
What’s happened to you Cas?
Dean fucking Winchester that’s what.
“Cas...”
“Don’t do that don’t you dare do that Dean Winchester,” a sob caught in the angel’s throat. A sob, “I gave everything for you.”
Before Dean knew it he was being shoved against a cold brick wall, not unlike many years before, Cas’ hands fisting into his coat with severity.
“Everything” he growled, “I left heaven and journeyed into hell, I betrayed my family, destroyed my home, all because I put you first.”
“Why?” Dean asked. It was an honest question. He needed to know, he wanted to know, why did an angel fall from heaven for a man who meant nothing? For someone who was closer to a piece of shit on the floor than a decent human being. And keep on falling long after it ceased to be God’s will.
Cas looked at him, and it seemed like almost pity in his eyes. you big ridiculous fool. Were the words said there.
It was fierce
The way he crashed his lips against Dean’s. Fisted his hands further in his jacket, pulled him closer, off the wall and then back down again. It was hungry, reckless, everything they hadn’t said and everything they needed to say. The way Dean’s hands came up around his neck, found the lapel of his coat and tugged, lips crashing together, wet and cold and yet so so warm, like a fire raging in the middle of a friggin’ thunderstorm.
It was poetry and rock music and honey and milkshakes shared in a burger joint and lightning when it hits water and everything in between.
Dean held the nape of Cas’ neck, stroked behind his ear and gently thumbed the rain soaked hair out of his face, bit his bottom lip before letting it go.
Cas pulled back for air, looking deep into his eyes, “does that answer your question.”
“It aswers a lot of goddamn questions Cas.” Dean chuckled breathlessly, leaned forward and rested his head on the angel’s shoulder, hands slightly shaking as they held onto him, heartbeat struggling to return to normalcy, “it answers a lot.”
Sam was smiling softly as they returned, soaking wet and holding hands. Dean nodded at his brother as he grabbed the keys, “We’re goin home Sammy. Take your time.”
Can you imagine a really sick Sammy like trials Sam and he’s in bed with his shirt off, a thin sheet over him and Dean with a stethoscope in his ears checking Sam’s blood pressure as he whines?
Omg. Beth. Stop it.
I can imagine that and Sam’s all shivery and breathing heavily and Dean looks so worried…
@plungerwhisk @it-started-with-yellow-fever look what your girl is doing
I love it that it the episode introduction they show Dean calling Cas, like confirming that worrying about Cas it's something of his regular basis day xD
Yes, I liked it too. Mind, I think they could do more - and not only about Cas, I mean - because it mostly feels the Winchesters are living in this bubble and it’s the two of them against the rest of the world and they spend any downtime they have staring moodily at their antiquated instruments or playing beer pong with each other or just dozing off and listening to history podcasts in their rooms - but the thing is, they do not. Once in a while, we get confirmation they actually talk to their friends and keep in touch with them and even drop by unexpectedly and beg to be fed and taken care of, as that magnificent Asa Fox episode showed us. And it’s possible this is simply brought up by different writers’ sensibilities, but the thing is, once it’s in the show, it’s canon. This is how we now know they even shared their worries about this Nephilim ‘end of the world’ scenario with ‘every hunter’ they know, and that is freaking huge. After all, they always worked alone, and you can see why: everyone who gets into their orbit dies horribly (not to mention their old mistrust in other hunters, because that’s what John taught them). So the fact they involved ‘everyone they know’ (and how many people is that? Claire didn’t know anything about the Nephilim - did they tell Jody? Donna? the Barnes twins? who else? we actually don’t have a clear idea of how many people they can call up in an emergency, but there must be a list somewhere - it’s what Ketch was looking for when he and his team broke into the Bunker, after all) despite a) the obvious danger, b) the fact they’re death magnets and c) the fact this Nephilim situation, all things considered, is not all that apocalyptic if you contrast it with other stuff they’ve faced - well - that’s huge and significant. I only wish we got to see more of that, because it would give us a better insight into Sam and Dean’s actual lives and also remind us that yes, this show is about them, and that’s good - they’re fascinating, engaging characters and I want to know ALL the things - but also, their circumstances have changed. Sam and Dean are no longer these lost orphans on the run, forced to rely only on each other, alone in a world of monsters - they’ve got friends now, they’ve got people they care about, and despite what some people seem to think, love doesn’t halve when it’s shared - it doubles. And it’s precisely because I like the two of them so much that I’m happy to see they’re more settled and comfortable around other people. I’m sure most of us feel the same.
(Yes, I’ve been watching the fight last night, and I can’t believe these are even things we need to fight about. For fuck’s sake.)
So Dean worrying about Cas - that makes narrative sense whichever way you look at it, because Cas is their friend and is supposed to live in the Bunker, so he can’t just up and disappear for weeks and, if anything, I feel like Sam’s way too blasé on this issue (but, yeah, they need some contrast with Dean’s attitude, and also Sam’s always been more accepting of what Cas actually is and whatever). And I actually think one of the reasons we’ve never seen Sam calling Eileen before The British Invasion - even if he’s clearly done so on a number of occasions - is that, well - not only this ship sails itself, but if we’ve got Dean trying to reach Cas and Sam skyping with Eileen in the same episode - yeah, that would make it so much clearer and we’re probably not there yet because God has gone on holiday and doesn’t care about us anymore and we’re all alone in a dark, pitiless and friendless universe.
