#barista!dean

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Crazy, Stupid, Love

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: When Dean has to work at a café to learn infos on a hunt, he thinks it's the worst. Until he meets her. At first, she's only kind of an annoying coworker. But an unfortunate event brings them closer, and Dean starts feeling things for her. If it's love, he doesn't know. But for the first time, he starts wondering how it would feel to have a normal life. A normal job. And a normal relationship. But first, he needs to get her revenge against that shitty boss.

Note: this happens in the begining of season one

Word Count: 9k

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader

Content Warning: Toxic work place, rude customer, humiliation, bullying, swearing

Squares: Humiliation for @hurtcomfort-bingo,/ Revenge for @jacklesversebingo

A/n: I'm gonna be honest, at first, I didn't want to post this fic. When I saw the attention the last few fics I took so much time to write got, it made me sad... But then I remembered how much fun I had with this one, so decided to post it in case someone else has the same fun reading it. ALSO! This was for @eevvvaa writing challenge! I picked the movie Crazy Stupid Love but actually used the quotes! They will be in bold in the text. Happy reading!

Usually, this situation would have upset him. After all, he was stuck here 8 hours per day, 5 days per week and always finished too late to go to the nearest bar afterwards. It also wasn’t the best first real job to have, as it was lame, boring, and always the same thing. But working at a café also had its advantages.

Like the beautiful barista that he had the chance to see on his first day. She was leaving, as she was only working mornings, and he was working evenings, but Dean couldn’t detach his eyes from her. Beautiful body, hair immaculate even after 8 hours of wearing a net, skin tanned to perfection.

“Oh great, another one.”

That wasn’t the girl he was talking about. No, the girl that just spoke was Y/n. At first glance, she looked like the manager. With the most seniority in here, she knew how things were done and how to do them quickly. But she was no boss. To make her agree to be his trainer and show him the basics, the real boss had to insist a lot. He didn’t know all the details, though, but she ended up accepting.

It was for a hunt. Otherwise, Dean would never be here. Sam said there was something weird in the neighborhood, and that the best way to discover what was going on was to talk with the community. And the best place to have conversations with people that didn’t want to talk with the police was of course at the local café. All the rumors and crispy details of the town were floating in there. The reason why it wasn’t Sam doing the whole barista thing was as simple as upsetting.

“Dean, you have all the charm. People- ladies- will open up to you like blooming flowers in the spring.”

Ugh.

Back to the present, Dean ignored Y/n’s comment and tilted his head to the side, still eyeing the morning employee that was leaving. “What do I have to do to get on the morning shift?” 

A groan of annoyance resonated behind him. His smile fell. He was stuck with her for a while, as they were both working evening shifts.

Alone together.

-

There were 60 seconds in one minute. And 60 minutes in one hour. A shift lasted 8 hours here. That was way too many seconds to spend doing nothing but wait to leave.

All that was in his head was the hot chick he kept seeing since he started working here. After only bumping into her these past 2 weeks, Dean finally decided to ask her on a date. And since he was Dean Winchester, no one could tell him no. And the same day, after his shift, he would meet her in front of the pizza place that was two blocks away.

And he couldn’t stop looking at the clock, head in his hand, hoping that staring at it would make the time go faster.

“I asked for a hot caramel latte with almond milk and no foam, what the hell is this?!”

It was near the end. In 15 minutes, the shop would be closed and then it was cleaning time. Weeping the floor, throwing away the remaining food that was not sold, washing the dishes, etc. That was always his favorite part, because even if Y/n was a pain in the ass as his supervisor, she was chill and allowed him to choose the radio station while they cleaned and he could leave once his part was done.

At first, the voice didn’t alert him, and Dean kept on making himself busy with cleaning tables that didn’t need it. But then, something broke, the sound heavy of meaning, and he was on alert. Every fiber of his body was on and he turned to the source of the sound.

Right at the counter, there was a man with his back to him. Without seeing his face, Dean knew he was angry. Pissed, even. At his feet, a broken cup, porcelain in pieces covered the floor soaked in coffee. Two steps allowed Dean to know what the man was looking at, and when he saw her…

He immediately rushed without thinking.

“I’m gonna ask you to leave, sir,” Dean put his hand on the customer’s shoulder, which made him jump. The man turned to him and aggressively stepped back. 

“Don’t touch me,” the man hissed. “You’re working here, huh?” He looked up and down at Dean, noticing the apron of the café he was wearing. “Must be the manager here. Well, your employee here is worthless, you should be careful who you hire, for fuck sake!”

At that, Dean couldn’t help but wince. That was unnecessary rude to say. He glanced at Y/n again and felt his heartbeat with pain. Her head was down, probably to hide tears. That was probably not the first time she had to serve asshole customers, but it was the first time Dean noticed it. Working in customer service was not easy at all, you had to be strong to endure all of that everyday.

He only knew Y/n for about two weeks, but he already knew a lot about her. She was calm. Kind. She cared about doing her job right. Yeah, she was a bit bossy and used every opportunity to send subtle little insults towards Dean just enough to annoy him, like how he couldn’t even do a coffee, in this economy? But it was never mean and he liked that side of her that didn’t let people step on her toes. But right now, in front of that man? She was small. She wanted to hide. It wasn’t the Y/n he knew.

“I’m not the boss,” Dean answered finally, placing his gaze back on the man. “But we’re closed, so I’m gonna ask you to leave.”

The rude customer was the last one in the café, so it wasn’t like he was breaking any rules. And he was Dean Winchester. He made the rules.

Red seemed to eat at the man’s face so much he was angry. “Not before I get what I fucking paid for!” He started yelling. Dean didn’t mind being screamed at, he was used to it with his dad, how sad it sounded. But when the man turned to Y/n to yell at her, Dean couldn’t hold himself back. “You useless cunt!”

“I said, out!” Dean grabbed the customer by the neck and quickly sent him backwards. His legs met the table right behind him, but it wasn’t enough to make him understand. The man lunged forward in an attempt to hit Dean, but he didn’t know.

Dean was waiting for it.

The fist missed, and the man stumbled into the void and collapsed on the floor like a clown. 

“This isn’t over,” the man growled and got up. Sure he would strike again, Dean was ready to fight. But this time, the fist didn’t miss. The pain came later, a few seconds after the hunter realized he got hit in the face. Fortunately for his ego, Dean managed to stay on his feet and not fall pathetically on the floor. 

He reached for the wound.

It was right near his left eye, it would bruise for sure.

With deadly flames in his green eyes, he looked at his target.

“Oh, you’re dead.” 

The rest happened quickly.

Dean decided he wouldn’t hold back anymore. As his head throbbed with ache and anger, he was about to hit with everything he got. But at the last moment, something interrupted him. A body, warm, soft, encircling his own, stopped him from moving.

“Please stop…”

Her voice woke him up completely. Shaking, she put herself between the two men to stop the fight even if she was scared.

The man took the opportunity to run away, the bell chiming behind him as the door closed violently.

A long silence followed the departure of the aggressive customer. A couple of seconds passed, then minutes, before she realized there was no silence actually. Things were happening around her, words were spoken, and the only person besides her was running around locking doors and closing blinds, cursing every word he could think of at the moment.

Her hearing was nothing but a shrill sound, almost painful, like she was deaf. It took another minute and him calling her name for her to come back to the present.

"You okay? He didn't hurt you?" Dean was kneeling in front of her. She finally noticed she was sitting down on a chair. Shaking her head, she tapped her hands in her face to finish waking herself up from her slumber.

"You're hurt and you ask me if I'm okay?" She stood up as she spoke, Dean doing the same. Then she seemed to disappear in the backstore to come back with a bag of frozen vegetables they used for the soup. "Sit down," she instructed. 

Dean would have been impressed by her capacity to focus after such an event, especially with how she was a couple of seconds ago, but he knew better. She wouldn't meet his gaze, her head was down, and when he glanced at her hands, it was to see them shake.

"Y/n-" 

"Oh, come on, sit down, your masculinity won't suffer too much, I just want to check," she rolled her eyes and almost pushed him to the chair. Dean let himself be moved around with a smirk. That was the Y/n he knew. "There, it's not that bad, huh?" 

"It's no big deal," he tried to convince her, after all, as a hunter, he got hurt more than once before and healed perfectly fine. But when he saw her, he understood. And he let himself be checked by her only for her. To reassure her it was nothing, it was fine, it would bruise into a black eye and nothing else.

"Okay, it's not that bad," she sighed in relief as she said that.

"Told you," Dean snickered with a smile. "Ouch!"

The frozen bag was now on his bruise and Y/n was turning her back to him. His first instinct was to ask her if she was okay, check on her, after all, she seemed pretty shaken up, but he knew she needed time, that was all.

"We should call the police," Dean ended up saying. Usually, he would never propose that, but the customer was human. A monster in some sort, but completely human, so the police could take care of it.

"No!" She turned harshly towards Dean, surprising him.

"Why not?" 

Pacing back and forth, Y/n seemed to get lost in her thoughts. "It's not necessary, I doubt the customer will come back, and it would put the cafe in a bad spot, we would lose customers and…"

Again, Dean knew. Y/n was a good employee, she loved doing her job right, but she hated the place, hated the menu and the disgusting coffee served here, and hated the management. But they were the ones giving her her salary at the end of the month, so she couldn't disappoint them.

"I can deal with the boss," Dean said, standing up, the bag still on his eye.

In front of him, Y/n sadly shook her head. "It won't be necessary." She pointed at one corner of the cafe. Then another. "There's cameras around, and he loves to watch. Loves to tell us everything we do wrong. He probably already knows it happened. We'll see tomorrow, I guess," she sighed. Then, like a thought crossed through her head, she lifted her head completely and crossed gaze with Dean. "Your date! You're gonna be late!"

Dean wanted to laugh. So badly. Of course, he talked to her about it. Kristina, their coworker from the morning shift and Dean's date, was waiting for him. But after what happened, it completely got out of his head. Smiling, he shook his head and placed the bag of defrosting vegetables on the table beside him.

"I'll call her, say something came up. She'll understand."

Y/n cringed, biting her lips and frowning. "I don't think she cares enough to understand. But you're cute and sexy so maybe she'll forgive your ass."

Immediately after saying those words, Y/n became a puddle of embarrassment. Her body flushed with the realization of what she just admitted.

"Really?" Dean would not let that go. "You think I'm the perfect combination of sexy and cute ?"

"Shut up," she murmured between her teeth, grabbing the nearest thing, the cloth he was using to clean the tables, to throw it at him. "Get out of here your shift is over."

"Yeah," Dean surprised himself by what he said next. "But I won't let you walk back home alone. Consider me your cute and sexy bodyguard," he laughed at her reaction, but it was nothing compared to the sound leaving his mouth when he received another cloth on the head. "Hey, this one was wet"

"Oops!" 

-

The next day started pretty badly. After a complicated night with barely any sleep and lots of nightmares, Y/n got up early to get ready. Even if her shift started at 3pm, she knew the phone would ring and the ruthless voice of her boss would order her to come in to talk.

About what happened.

It was not even noon when it happened. She was at her third coffee, so she had energy even if she felt dead inside. Since she was already dressed, all she had to do was grab her stuff and head to the cafe. Like usual, she had to walk since she didn't have enough savings to buy a car.

The weather was quite nice, compared to how gloomy she was feeling. It was warm and sunny outside. Y/n barely made a step out, locking her door, that a loud engine startled her. The sun was reflecting strongly on the hood, blinding her as she walked with caution towards it, and for a moment she thought maybe it was the customer that found her and came to finish what he started. Fortunately she recognized the car quickly, as it was the same car that drove her home last night.

A 67 chevy impala.

It was even more beautiful than when she saw it yesterday.

The drive to the cafe was quiet, apart from the chichats. How are you? Do you feel better? So, did he call you too? Usually, Y/n would have commented on something random just to annoy Dean, but when he turned his head towards her at a red light to ask her a question, she saw the bruise around his eyes, reminding her of the night before and how everything was her fault. If only she hadn't messed up the order…

Once parked in front of the cafe, Dean stopped the engine to turn to Y/n. "Hey," he said in a calm and steady voice. "Whatever happens there, it was neither our fault."

"I appreciate it, Dean, but it was. I was in charge, even though I told the boss more than once that I didn't want to be, so what happens on my shift is my fault." Without leaving him time to answer, she opened the door and left the car to enter the cafe.

The moment she stepped inside, a loud silence echoed around her. Every employee stopped chatting to stare at her, the customers mimicking their actions, wondering what was so much more interesting than getting their order right and fast. 

Y/n hated that. The attention. The eyes on her. The silence. Her body started shaking, both with anger and humiliation, the tears almost painful to hold back. But then, as she was about to step towards the boss' office, a warmth settled on her shoulder, stopping the tremors at once. And a voice she was starting to grow fond of whispered near her ear.

"Ignore them. They don't matter right now."

With Dean, she felt safe. Strong. Like she could do everything and never feel afraid anymore. That was until they were sitting in the office in front of the boss.

“Y/n, I am wildly disappointed with you. What you did was beyond unprofessional, and I can’t believe I have to do this. You’re suspended.”

It was nothing less than what she expected from her boss. Since working there, she had done everything to stay in his good graces, sometimes doing other people's jobs to compensate. Everything to keep the restaurant clean and to continue serving fresh food every day. It wasn't Kristina who would write down expiration dates on perishable products, or place the new arrival of breads behind the ones already there to prevent the oldest ones from remaining at the bottom of the shelf, covered in mold. If this place passed the health inspection every year, it was thanks to Y/n’s efforts, efforts that no one had ever noticed or considered.

It was probably better that way.

Head bowed, Y/n took a harsh breath and opened her mouth to apologize and admit her boss was right. However, the words could not come out of her mouth fast enough, because someone else was already speaking.

“This is bullshit,” Dean exclaimed. A quick glance in his direction, and Y/n could see his hands forming fists on his thighs. “Y/n did everything perfectly, it’s not her fault if customers don’t respect anything, not even themselves!”

“Dean, I think you're new here,” the boss replied with a calmness that didn't mean anything good. Y/n tried to draw Dean's attention to her to signal him to shut up, that it was nothing, that she could survive a week suspended, but the young man paid her no mind. And one look at his face showed her the same anger she had seen in him the previous evening, when he had decided to defend himself against the customer. “I watched the surveillance cameras carefully. Your reactions with this client, although undoubtedly intended to be heroic, were completely unacceptable. The next time you make a mistake, you will suffer the same fate as Y/n. For now, take your day, see you on Monday, Dean.”

"That's all?!" This time, Dean stood up as he spoke. “Y/n gets suspended, and I only get a warning and a day off? What the f-”

“Thank you,” Y/n quickly cut him off, grabbing his arm firmly to silence him. Strangely, like the day before, her intervention seemed to calm Dean down very quickly. “See you next week.”

As she was about to leave, her hand still holding Dean's wrist to drag him out of the office, a voice called out to her.

"Two weeks. See you in two weeks.”

It took a lot of control for her to say nothing. The inside of her cheek hurt from how hard she bit it, dragging Dean out of the office and then out of the restaurant. It was only once outside, far from prying ears and vulture eyes, that she was finally able to breathe.

“FUCKING BULLSHIT! FUCK YOU!” Suddenly came out of her mouth. If Dean still had any anger at that moment, it suddenly vanished when he heard so many curses coming out with so much anger from the usually calm Y/n. “Oh. It feels better."

Having never seen her like this, it took several seconds for Dean to compose himself. Large green eyes were fixed on her, wide, shocked, even, until a good hit on the arm woke him up completely. "Ouch!" He rubbed his arm as if it hurt even though her fist had barely tickled him.

“What the fuck was that, seriously?! Talk to the boss like that? You’re born stupid or you’re just too dumb to think, fuck, Dean!”

Still as surprised and shocked, Dean didn't respond immediately. Y/n was angry. More, even. Beyond pissed. Which was completely normal under the circumstances, except Y/n wasn't normally angry. She could get upset, complain about the system, the management, the customers, or how she was the only one doing all the little things that made the café special and comfortable, but she was never angry.

“I couldn’t let him talk to you that way, I just couldn’t,” Dean explained calmly. It was quite rare for him to be the calm one in a heated argument. But in this case, he knew he had to keep his own rage to himself, she didn't need more anger. She needed to speak, to expel this emotion out of her like a demon that needed to be exorcized.

“Well, that was fucking stupid,” she pointed at him, her gaze meeting his. This surprised him again. Y/n was shy, although she was a good leader, and he noticed she had trouble looking people in the eye for several seconds. She always ended up looking away, and he knew it wasn't because she was dishonest, but rather that she was afraid of the judgment in the eyes of others. So that she was yelling at him while staring right at him… That surprised Dean again and made him speechless.

For a few seconds, he forgot that he was being told off by a girl for defending her, and lost himself in the contemplation of her magnificent orbs. Since he had known her, he had never really seen them, or bothered to look at them.

And her eyes were beautiful, even filled with anger.

Probably noticing the eye contact was getting considerably long, Y/n finally broke the almost trance-like effect to gaze elsewhere.

“Have you had it long?”

She was still not looking at him. "What?"

“The uncontrollable need to save the damsel in distress.” The corner of her lips lifted up in a smirk.

“I-” He couldn’t tell her that this was actually his life. Saving the woman and the orphan, killing the monsters, it was so ingrained in his life that it was part of him.

“Come on,” she muttered, still not meeting his gaze, gesturing to him to follow her.

"Come on… Where?" It was the longest conversation he'd had with her, and it was only because she was angry, he remembered. He was here for a hunt, he had to learn more about the people of the town. Concentration and focus were required, but yet... This side of Y/n, her confidence, how she wasn't afraid to yell at him like that, when she was normally so gentle...

He liked that side of her. Not that he disliked the rest, it was just-

“I think you have tonight off, and I, well, the next two weeks.” Starting to walk towards the impala, she then stopped and turned her head just enough to look over her shoulder at him. “I’m going to help you rediscover your manhood. Do you have any idea where you could have lost it?”

A big smile stretched Dean's lips. This was the Y/n he knew. “Probably over there,” he pointed to the horizon. “Near the pizzeria. You hungry?”

-

The pizza was the most delicious thing that had passed Y/n's lips in a long time. Very greasy and dripping with cheese, the junk food was simply good after such a catastrophic day. And sharing this moment with his colleague, accomplice, even, and perhaps friend- if he wanted to- was the icing on the cake.

Her heart always beat a beat and a half faster when he was near her. And although she tried not to like him, not to get attached to what was clearly a bad boy who preferred girls like Kristina, who just hung out with her because he had free time… She simply couldn't deny it anymore. What her heart desired was starting to win over what reason screamed at her.

Don't fall in love.

And yet, as that evening at the pizzeria after her suspension turned into an almost daily routine, her heart prevailed. The crush she immediately had for the young man with emerald eyes and cheeks covered in a milky way of little freckles was slowly transforming into something deeper.

A week had passed since her suspension, it was Saturday again, and as usual, Y/n and Dean found themselves at the pizzeria. The owner himself now came to take their order, even though he already knew what the two wanted since they always ordered the same thing. Everything was going exactly as usual, Dean recounting his day at work, how slowly everything was going downhill without her.

“I worked with a new guy, and son of a bitch, I’ve never seen someone take their time so much. It’s like he did it on purpose,” Dean sipped his drink. Y/n’s gaze followed the movement of the Adam’s apple rising and falling as he swallowed. She was barely concentrating on what he was saying. “We had two complaints that the sandwich bread had mold, but the person in the kitchen didn't get in trouble for it. It’s like the boss knows that no matter the wait time, the quality of the food, or the attitude of the employees, the cafe will always make money since it’s the only one in town,” Dean let out a little laugh which only spread the butterflies in Y/n’s stomach. “Let me tell you that over the past week, some regulars have stopped coming. Oh, and many have asked where you’ve been.”

“It’s not surprising,” she finally answered after a few seconds of silence where only the chewing of Dean devouring his pizza could be heard. On the table, near the windows, the dessert was already there, two slices of pie that the owner had reserved for them knowing they were coming. Her gaze fell on the dessert as she spoke although she really wanted to look him in the eyes. Admiring the perfect color of his orbs, admiring how everything was perfect about him. It was so difficult. “What’s surprising is that the health inspection hasn’t closed this place yet.”

These words hung in the air for a moment, accompanied by silence. Finally glancing over at Dean, she found that he had stopped eating mid-bite, staring blankly at her. It was almost as if Y/n could see the gears moving in his mind.

“Yet.” That was all he said next, taking the time to finish his bite before continuing. "I have an idea."

“I could figure that much,” she laughed as she took her drink, anything to occupy her hands and look normal in his presence. Luckily he couldn't hear her heart thumping against her ribcage.

“We're going to avenge you,” he pointed ahead, at her, and that was enough for her eyes to move from his finger to his eyes. She managed to hold his gaze for several long seconds which seemed to her like hours of torture. "You'll see."

"See what? Oh, how cute,” a voice broke the bubble Y/n and Dean were in. She hadn't heard that voice in a week, and it had been the best thing her suspension had given her, except for all the time she'd spent with Dean since.

“Kristina,” Y/n muttered under her breath, her eyes immediately going to her pizza. A weight seemed to settle on her chest, pressing down hard with its gigantic pressure.

“Hey,” Dean greeted her, and the pressure thumped harder against her heart. “How you doing, Kristina?”

His tone was kind. Friendly. Sweet. Just like he was with Y/n. But with a bonus, he was flirty.

Obviously.

She was not special.

“Oh, I'm doing well, much better,” she laughed. “Especially since Y/n isn’t at the café anymore. No one is ordering us around anymore, right, Dean?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n could see movement. Raising her head just enough to have her in her sight without looking directly at her, she could see her hand on Dean's shoulder. Besides, she wasn't alone. Two other girls from the cafe were standing with her. Without looking at them, Y/n knew. She felt their gaze on her, burning, like vultures around prey.

“I actually liked working with Y/n,” Dean replied as calmly as ever. His words created a spark of hope in Y/n who this time looked directly at Dean. “It’s not as fun without her,” he continued.

“Oh,” Kristina laughed, and her two henchmen followed suit. “I know you want to stay in her good graces by saying all this,” she leaned towards him to whisper in his ear, but made no effort to lower her voice. “But you don’t need to. I think she's going to get fired. The customer came back to file a complaint against her.”

"What?" Dean leaned back slightly to get a better look at Kristina. Now he had his face so close to hers that only one movement was necessary to kiss her. And he had a perfect view into her cleavage. “But…” He turned his head towards the girl sitting in front of him, obviously not understanding why she was being fired and not him.

“You don’t have to lick her boots anymore,” Kristina put a hand on her hip. “I know she’s in love with you, but at this point, it’s pity, right? Spending time with her… Poor little thing. No friends. No boyfriend. Only feelings for those who don’t love her. Just like last time, always falling for the new guy.”

Her face was burning. Y/n was seething, with anger, with sadness, with humiliation. And the worst, the worst was Dean's expression. His gaze, which he constantly fixed on her, seeking to meet her gaze, wanting so much for her to grant him one look, was now stuck in emptiness. And a look of pure confusion made him frown.

Dean refused to look at her anymore.

It was too much.

“Ew, friends to friends,” Kristina added, as if the stabs she had already thrown didn’t hurt enough already. “Ew.”

Standing abruptly, Y/n slammed her hands on the table. Head bowed, her hair cascaded in front of her face, trying as best as they could to hide the tears that welled up in her eyes and inevitably rolled down her cheeks. A ton of insults raced through her mind, but they all got stuck in her throat with this lump growing and growing, until finally, the tears flowed.

One.

Two.

One fell silently onto the table. The other, on her plate, right next to the barely eaten slice of pizza.

Before the third tear fell, Y/n was already out of the restaurant and walking as quickly as she could towards her house. The tears continued to flow without her being able to stop them, but she remained silent. If she could control one thing tonight, it would be her voice. No sound would come out of her mouth until she was alone, at home, in her bed. Only there, she would let herself scream all this pain into her pillow.

No one tried to catch her.

-

“Good news,” Sam announced before his brother had even closed the door. “Get this. There was no monster from the beginning. It was actually kids who created the whole thing to attract attention. You don’t have to play barista anymore.”

"Oh." 

Looking up from his laptop, Sam fixed his gaze on Dean. The door closed slowly and he took off his coat just as slowly and placed it on his bed. The motel was shabby, like all the others, and usually, Dean would never place his precious leather coat on those blankets which he called "the most disgusting object the universe has known." He'd cleaned the covers several times to be sure, but the comforter had kept this unnatural color, so he still didn't trust it.

“Dean.”

“I'm going to take a shower,” his brother grumbled as he headed towards the bathroom, completely ignoring what Sam had just said.

“Okay, but-” the door slammed. “Okay.”

Sam waited for Dean to finish his shower for almost an hour. The only reason Dean Winchester would take such a long shower would be the fantastic water pressure, but having used this bathroom for over 3 weeks, Sam knew that really wasn't the case.

Finally, Dean came out.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Sam closed his laptop to put his full attention on his brother. The latter sat at the end of his bed, dressed with fresh clothes, his towel on his shoulder to catch the droplets falling from his hair.

“Have you ever dreamed of a normal life?” Dean answered his question with another question. At this, Sam rolled his eyes.

“I had a normal life before, remember? Before you picked me up to find Dad?”

Dean made a sound that was a mix of a sigh of guilt and a grunt of frustration, probably directed at himself. "I know but…"

“I can't believe it,” Sam stood up at the revelation. “You like working there.”

“Nah,” Dean slapped the air like he was chasing away the stupid idea. “Actually, yeah, but not anymore. Working in customer service is horrible.”

“I feel like there's a but,” Sam went to sit next to his brother on the bed.

“But,” Dean took a deep breath. "There is a girl."

Sam sighed. Obviously it was about a girl. “Have you slept with her yet? Because if you want to stay here for a one night stand, I swear-”

“She’s in love with me.”

Sam turned his whole body towards his brother, his eyes wide. "Oh."

"Oh."

“Do you like her back?”

At this question, Dean's face disappeared under his large hands. “I don’t know,” his voice sounded muffled by his palms.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

"I don't know!" Dean exclaimed, removing his hands at the same time. It was his turn to avoid looking at someone, staring at the void instead. “I don’t know what it is to love. How to love. If it’s love. It was never explained to me, you know, it wasn’t dad who would tell me how to know if I love someone.”

A silence followed his words, but not for long.

“With Jess…” Sam began slowly, as if the words he was about to say were poisonous snakes that could bite him at any moment. “It was simple. I felt good with her. She felt good with me. And together, we were good.”

“Okay,” Dean listened intently, as if the answers he was looking for were on his brother's lips.

“Do you like spending time with her?” He then asked.

Dean didn't even think for a second. "Oh yeah."

“When you're not with her, what do you do? You think about her, right?”

This time, Dean took a moment before answering. “Well, I worked at the cafe, so obviously I was thinking about her, since she wasn’t there but she used to. And then, when I finished work, I would go see her and we would order food or go to the pizzeria.”

“Okay, and then?”

"And then what?" Dean finally looked his brother in the eye. He still had questions, still doubts, confusion, but that was completely normal. A soft, understanding smile stretched Sam's lips.

“What are you thinking about right now?”

“Oh, how I want to punch that shitty boss in the face,” Dean clenched his fist to mimic his words. “I never hit women, but that girl, Kristina, humiliated Y/n terribly earlier. And I reacted too late, she was gone and-”

He stopped speaking suddenly, as if enlightenment had finally reached his mind.

"And?"

“I have to join Y/n, apologize, I-”

“Dean.”

Stopping just as he was getting up and putting his coat back on, the green eyed man turned to his brother.

“If you're in love, I can't tell you, Dean. But I can confirm that you like her. But for tonight, let her breathe, these feelings are new for the both of you.”

At these words, Dean collapsed on the bed. “Oh, you’re probably right. I don't want to rush her, you know, she's so shy, but at the same time, so... Fierce. She's the perfect balance of sweet and spicy. And I let her down.”

To that, Sam didn't know what to answer. He knew that feeling, the one of having abandoned the person you love. That's how he felt ever since he lost Jess.

“I'm sure you'll figure out how to make amends,” Sam placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Actually… I think I already know,” Dean turned his head towards him, green eyes meeting amber ones. Green eyes sparkling with a new resolution, probably very wicked. “And you, my dear brother, will be able to help me.”

-

Turned out, losing another employee during the busiest time of the year was a sufficient reason to terminate a suspension preemptively. And although, clearly, this did not seem to make certain employees happy and even less the boss who hated coming back on his decisions, Y/n was able to return to work after barely a week of forced leave. And also, strangely, the customer’s complaint seemed to have vanished from existence. Or maybe it was another lie that Kristina came up with to hurt Y/n.

And what a surprise when she arrived and saw the place.

It was depressing. Everything was messy and upside down, unopened boxes that needed to be refrigerated were lying around everywhere, and other products that needed to stay at room temperature, like syrups, ended up in the freezer. No rotation had been made, and it was with sadness that she had to note all the food they lost and throw everything away. It took her a long time, long enough for someone she despised to come and tell her how to do her job.

"What are you doing? Customers are waiting! Have you forgotten how to work?”

After making this more than derogatory comment, Kristina returned to her favorite position, the one that required the least effort.

Her heart was heavy. Filled and at the same time, empty. Since the last time with Dean at the pizzeria, she hadn't received any news. No call. No text. No, her heart wasn't big with heaviness, it was broken. Split. And now that she had returned to the café, she learned he no longer worked there.

Good for him, she thought as she put away one last box before heading towards the front of the café to deal with the customers. At least he was out of this hell. It was maybe better that way.

“Sorry for the wait, what can I get you?” The usual words were so ingrained in her that they came out of her mouth as soon as she was behind the cash register, without even looking at the customer.

“I would like you to give me the chance to talk to you,” a familiar voice said in front of her. That voice, low, hoarse, and so perfect. She had started to get used to hearing it almost every day. But this time, it forged yet another crack on her heart.

“Dean,” even saying his name was painful. The pain of a lost friendship and crushed hope. The pain of a humiliated moment, a bad memory where he had sat there in silence while she was being crushed as an inactive witness.

“Y/n. There’s no word to express how sorry I am for-”

An apology, of course, wasn't exactly what she wanted, but it was more than she had expected. He was there, in the flesh, in front of her. So, for once and although it was difficult because looking at him would hurt her even more, Y/n raised her head and stared into his sad gaze. Ready and open to hear what he had to say.

There was a sadness almost identical to her own in his beautiful green eyes. Guilt, regrets, he seemed sincere-

“Dean! I thought you had left the ship,” Kristina suddenly entered Y/n’s bubble, who didn’t waste a moment to move to the side. It wasn't unknown that Y/n didn't like being touched or having someone in her bubble, and Kristina knew it, so she did it on purpose. All the time.

“Excuse me, but I was talking with Y/n,” Dean replied in a neutral voice, almost annoyed, even.

“Oh, sure, you want to feel better about last time, but you don't have to,” Kristina continued, crossing her arms over her large chest.

Dean rolled his eyes and shifted his attention to Y/n. “I’m serious, Y/n. Come with me, I need to talk to you. And they don’t deserve you.”

Y/n's mouth opened, then closed, tears welling up in her eyes at an uncontrollable speed.

“Seriously, Dean, don’t you see how pathe-”

“Kristina, shut the fuck up. You’re bothering us.”

This really didn't please the girl who made an offended sound, threw an unimportant insult, and left without another word.

Once finally alone again, Dean was ready. Ready to tell the beautiful barista in front of him everything that was on his heart, even if he didn't really know exactly what it was himself. He had some in the past, girlfriends, one night stands, crushes on the most beautiful and popular girls in school, but that wasn't the same thing. He felt an attachment to Y/n, a different feeling that he couldn't describe. If it was love, he didn't know. But he knew he didn't want to lose her.

“It's a little too late to come to my defense,” her voice said instead of his. Taken by surprise, Dean's mouth opened then closed, like a fish looking flabbergasted. “Although I really enjoyed seeing someone tell her to fuck off for once,” the shadow of a smile drew on her face for a second, but quickly faded away. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a lot of work-”

“Wait,” Dean found his voice just in time.

“I don’t have time, Dean,” Y/n turned her back on him, giving him one last eye contact above her shoulder. Her eyes were filled with sadness and seeing her like that physically hurt him.

“On the contrary,” Dean insisted, a smile tugging at his lips as he knew the plan was going like clockwork. “You will soon have plenty of time.”

Seeing the obvious confusion spread across her face, Dean jerked his head towards the boss's office. This caught the attention of not only Y/n but also the other employees, because at the same time, voices were heard coming from that direction. Loud voices, displeased, and then the door opened.

“I am very disappointed with the state of this place. It's deplorable. I’m afraid I won't change my mind, the café is going to close.”

“Wait,” the boss looked tiny behind the person who had just spoken. Like the weight of reality was finally falling on his shoulders. Stomping him to the ground like a pest, just how he had always treated his employees. "You can’t, you don’t have the right!"

“I have all the rights, I am a health inspector, and this place is completely unsanitary.”

Witnessing the whole scene in the front row, like she was in the cinema, Y/n was jubilant. Finally. Finally this place was recognized as being good for trash. Finally, the boss got what he deserved. Finally, things seemed to come full circle and it was all over.

The health inspector subsequently introduced himself to the employees. He looked very young for this job, early twenties, probably, long hair parted in the middle of his forehead and hazel eyes, but regardless, he had done his job properly so Y/n didn’t care about the details.

“This place is going to close. But don't worry, you are entitled to unemployment compensation. Time to find something better for you,” the inspector finished his speech with a wink. If Y/n wasn't so excited by the idea of ​​being rid of this miserable job, she would have been sure that the wink was aimed at her personally.

A laugh brought her attention back to Dean who was still in front of her. As the health inspector informed the customers present of the situation and put a note in the door to say the café was permanently closed, Dean was giggling.

“You did this,” Y/n finally understood.

“Told you we would get you revenge. Now, can you please come with me and listen to me? I need to talk to you.”

“After what you did for me, lunch is on me,” Y/n laughed as well, took off her apron which she threw behind her, and left the café without a glance behind her.

-

“Listen. So uhm, how can I say this, so uhm… God, I’m so bad at chick flicks and emotional stuff.”

The two had been sitting at the pizzeria for about an hour and a half pizzas. The same place as usual, with the same order, but this time everything was different. It was not simply out of friendship that they came to share a meal, there was more. Hidden feelings, others clearly visible but which had not yet been addressed, and frustration mixed with regrets.

Dean had been trying for two slices of pizza now to say something, but would immediately turn red the moment he tried to open up emotionally. And Y/n couldn't even blame him, seeing the efforts he made for her, what he did at the cafe, for her, and now he was trying so hard to explain and make it up to her… He could say absolutely nothing and she would be satisfied.

“Take your time,” Y/n mentioned between mouthfuls, leaving all her attention on the young man in front of her who still made her heart beat so quickly. Of course, he had made mistakes, and to forgive him just because he had the best revenge for her was pretty stupid, but oh well. Love makes you stupid, right? “It’s not like someone is waiting for me.”

“It’s just,” Dean sighed and ran his hands over his face. Y/n's gaze stayed on the ring on his finger, a ring she had already noticed before. “Not easy to say this. I mean, not to you, but like, talking about my stuff like this. But there’s one thing I know I have to say, and here it is,” he finally seemed to find his bearings, beautiful green eyes anchoring into hers, his red cheeks creating a nice color contrast. "I'm sorry. Sorry for not saying anything when Kristina was there being a bitch. I guess I was taken up by surprise with what she said, but that’s no excuse.”

“Dean, it’s fine,” Y/n shook her head and closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she knew exactly what she wanted to say to him. She took a big breath, words and sentences forming quickly in her mind. And it all came out of her mouth as quickly. “I am not ashamed to like you. Not at all. Because you are nice. Pretty. Hella sexy. And I feel comfortable whenever I’m with you. And I like spending time with you, and always wanna spend more. I won’t be ashamed to think all those things about you, because they are true, and they only make you a better person.” Pausing her words, Y/n forced herself to keep her gaze on Dean's again. She noticed that since those words had come out of her mouth, it was easier to hold his gaze. “You don’t have to have the same feelings, I understand. You don’t have to reciprocate or answer my confession, I can already see how bad it is for you to express feelings,” she laughed briefly at his scowling expression. “What I’m trying to say is… Yes. I like you a lot. And if you only like me as a friend, well, I’ll take that. It might hurt, but it would hurt more to not have you around anymore.”

Phew. It was hard to say, but once everything was out, Y/n felt better, lighter even. A heavy weight was finally leaving her heart, but there was still a little left. That was pressing. And tightening with the question… What will his answer be?

Dean took a brief moment to think before answering. Everything had gone silent, neither of them were eating, and both were probably holding their breaths.

“I've only known you for a short time,” Dean finally broke the silence, and the breath left Y/n's lungs which burned as it passed. She could feel the “but” coming. “But…” And there you go. “I really appreciate your company. A lot. I don’t know if it’s the same thing you feel, or if it’s love, but for the first time in a long, long time, I don’t want to leave this town. And I want to continue spending time with you.” Hope was reborn in Y/n, a wave of indescribable emotions suddenly invading her. “I'm going to have to leave, eventually, for work, but... I really want to take a break and try. I don’t know if I can do it, have a normal life, be with you, and just quit my job, so… I can’t promise you anything. I will probably leave eventually, I have so much stuff to do and…”

“You know,” Y/n continued when she saw him struggling with his words, hope now so strong in her body that she was almost vibrating. It wasn't a confession of love, but it was even better. This attachment Dean felt for her was worth even more than any cheesy love confession from the romantic movies or books she loved to delve into. “I no longer really have any ties to this city. No more jobs. If… We realize that things are working between us, and that you need to leave, nothing stops me from coming with you.” Realizing that it was probably too direct since they weren't even together, Y/n quickly adjusted her mind. “But those are just random ifs and thoughts,” she hurriedly took a bite of her pizza, just to make her stop talking.

“Y/n,” raising her head, she looked back at Dean. The latter had a big smile on his face and shook his head, clearly amused by her words. “If I told you what I did for work, you would never believe me. And when you”ll see it with your eyes and will be forced to believe me, you’re going to want to run away from me.”

“You’re a secret agent then?” Y/n hurriedly said, her mouth still full of pizza, her eyes wide. “Wow. Impressive.” She laughed, and Dean nervously laughed with her. If only it was that, it would be so much easier. “It really reminds me of my uncle.”

“Your uncle was a secret agent?” Dean asked, amused by the change of subject and how she was easily taking everything he said to her.

She was really the right one. Maybe she wouldn't run away after all.

“No, actually. When I was young, I often spent time at his house, but my parents stopped visiting him. They said he had lost his mind. But I loved these stories of ghosts and werewolves, he always told me he hunted them, saving people, like a secret agent of the supernatural,” a big smile stretched her lips at this thought, past memories flooding back into her head. It was so long ago, but she kept good memories of her uncle. Expecting the same reaction from Dean, Y/n only met a shocked face, frozen in a position that didn't suit him at all. Eyes wide, mouth parted, his skin white like he actually saw a ghost. She waved her hand in front of his face. “Earth to Dean?”

“Y/n, what’s your last name again?”

Taken aback by the sudden question, she blinked once and then twice. “Uhm, I don’t think I’ve ever told you. It’s Singer, why?”

A long silence answered her questions and her face dropped a little bit. Why did it matter?

“Your uncle… What's his name?”

“Dean, I haven’t seen my uncle in almost 15 years you know-”

“Y/n.”

“Robert. It’s Robert. But I always called him…”

“Bobby.”

It was her turn to have her eyes widen. “Yeah…?”

“I think you and I have more in common than I thought. And you really need to meet my brother,” he immediately stood up and threw two 20 bills on the table. Standing up in turn, confusion filled her entire expression.

“Dean, that’s way too much for two pizzas- Dean?” But she couldn't add more, and the confusion turned into this small, pleasant flame in the middle of her chest when Dean's hand met hers. “Okay, but you’re going to have to explain it to me because I don’t understand anything.”

“You'll understand,” Dean's smile was indescribable because it was so big. But that smile was hiding something else. Secrets that his beautiful lips had surely sealed away for far too long. “Let’s go,” he walked outside, said goodbye to the restaurant owner, and led her to his car. But once inside, he stopped before starting the engine, frozen yet again as another realization hit him.

“What? Something's wrong?”

“You… uhm… might recognize my brother, actually.”

“Why, was he a customer at the café?” Y/n laughed, fastening her seat belt. This whole thing was so sudden, so random, she just wanted to burst laughing. She felt good even if she didn’t quite understand everything that was happening.

“It was the health inspector,” he finally started the car and backed out of the parking lot and onto the road in one smooth, sexy motion.

“Oh. Wait, he’s a health inspector?”

“Not… Really?”

“Dean.”

Silence.

“Dean, did you fake the inspection?”

“Not really?”

“Dean!”

“Please. I’ll explain everything once we arrive. Do you trust me?”

For a second, Dean took his eyes off the road and looked into hers, and she held the gaze for the entire second and saw nothing but honesty. Then, he turned his head and broke eye contact, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see his right hand raised slightly towards her, waiting to be picked up.

“Yeah,” she finally said, gently placing her hand in his. It was warm. Comfortable. And how he squeezed, tenderly but also firmly, showed worry about losing her. “It might be crazy and stupid, but I trust you, Dean Winchester.”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa​​ @wickedinspirations​@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive​​ @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

Supernatural Tag List: @peachyaliien @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl @this-is-me19

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278​​ @kazsrm67​​​ @wtrpxrks @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies​​​ @charred-angelwings @jensendreamland​ @deanswaywardgirl​​​ @happyt0exist @waynes-multiverse​​​ @djs8891 @mimaria420 @this-is-me1​​​ @syrma-sensei

#dean winchester fanfiction #jacklesversebingo23 #hurt comfort bingo #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x f!reader #baby dean winchester #supernatural dean #supernatural dean x f!reader #supernatural dean winchester #supernatural dean winchester x female!reader #fluff #barista!dean #barista!reader

[profoundbondfanfic]

The barista and the bookshop

The barista and the bookshop by Abi_in_the_Cosmos Rating: Explicit Word Count: 55k

In a sleepy mountain town, stitched together with fairy lights, Dean Winchester has been running Squirrel and Moose Coffeehouse since his Dad died. Next door, anchored by family obligation, librarian Castiel has been tasked with taking over Chuck’s Bookshop. Wanting a distraction after his brother leaves town, Dean offers to help Castiel fix it up. It’s a job, something to get his hands on, it doesn’t matter that the librarian is hot and kinda weird. Castiel doesn’t understand why Dean is helping him, but he’s happy that he is, and their friendship grows until he can’t deny what’s right in front of him. But when their time together is cut short, both face a decision they aren't ready for. In a sleepy mountain town, stitched together with fairy lights, what's it gonna be? Peace or freedom?

First of all, barista!Dean and librarian!Cas? Say less. I took one look at this title and clicked Link to Fic like it was my job, the appeal right there in the name and I was so happy when it didn’t disappoint and turned out to be so much more. 

The barista and the bookshop is an AU packed with Canon issues, like Sam falling for Ruby, and an always heartbreaking theme where everybody leaves Dean behind. This fic starts with Dean’s heartache right off the bat, with Sam running off with his new girlfriend Ruby, and Dean left behind to keep the family coffee shop running. He’s stewing over his resentment when what better way to distract himself than by offering to help his new (and very handsome) neighbor fix up the bookstore he’s been tasked with running? 

This story offers a split POV so we can get some mutual pining and a good look at Dean and Cas as their friendship grows into something more, which is something one of them can’t have. Some angst does ensue, but I can promise that our boys do work things out in the end, and this story even offers a nice epilogue with a look into how Dean and Cas’s choices have served them, and how they were able to find their answers in each other in the end.

#destiel #fic rec #explict #50k to 100k #au #modern setting #friends to lovers #angst with a happy ending #neighbors #coffee shop #bookstore #librarian!castiel #barista!dean #bottom!dean #the barista and the bookshop #author: abi_in_the_cosmos

[goldenraeofsun]

Day 27: Liar

“Name?” Castiel asks without looking up from the plain paper cup in his hands.

“Bruce Wayne.”

Castiel frowns at the unnecessary last name, but dutifully writes down the necessary information. “Large red eye,” he tells Meg as he passes the cup along.

Meg snorts – an odd reaction even for her – but takes it.

“Seriously?” Bruce asks, his expression flabbergasted.

“He wouldn’t know a reference if it zip tied him with a grappling hook,” Meg cuts in. “Unless you want to stand here for the next ten minutes explaining Batman, you’d better get a move on.”

“Thank you, Meg,” Castiel says sourly, catching onto Bruce’s little game. “Is that all, Bruce?”

Lips pressed together like he’s holding in a smile, Bruce hands over a ten dollar bill. “Yep, that’s it.” His eyes flick down to Castiel’s chest where a name tag would be, if this university coffee shop gave a crap about making sure their student baristas complied to a dress code. “What’s your name?”

Castiel purses his lips. “None of your business.”

Bruce whistles. “Cold, man. That’s cold.”

“That’s Clarence for you,” Meg says as she hands over Bruce’s red eye.

“Clarence?” Bruce repeats, grinning from ear to ear.

“A nickname,” Castiel says, shooting down that train of thought before it can ever leave the station. He doesn’t need two people calling him that.

“Hm,” Bruce says, “We’ll see.”

* * *

“Name?”

“Fox Mulder.”

Castiel looks up at the odd response, not that he should really be throwing stones when it comes to first names. “Oh, you,” he says as he catches sight of Bruce’s – Fox’s? – smirking face.

“Me,” he says with a wink.

Castiel exhales a put-upon sigh. “I take it Fox isn’t your real name either?” 

“Nope,” Fox says cheerfully. “Large red eye, please.”

After Castiel writes the made up name on the paper cup, Meg takes it from him with a grin. “Fox,” she reads out loud. “Caught any aliens lately?”

“Not today,” Fox says, “maybe after English.” He eyes Castiel warily. “You’ve really never seen the X-Files?” At Castiel’s bemused shake of his head, Fox demands, “How?”

“Is it a movie or a television show?”

Fox scoffs, “It’s just one of the most influential TV shows of the 90s.”

Over by the espresso machine, Meg snorts. In a carrying voice, she says, “I had to make him watch Friends last semester. You’re fighting a losing battle.”

Clinically, Castiel observes, “You seem very invested in this.”

Fox gapes at him. “But –”

“Order up, Agent Mulder!” Meg calls from the other end of the counter.

Muttering darkly to himself, Fox stalks off to grab his drink.

That night, Castiel searches Bruce Wayne Google and dozens of movies come up, plus a television show, and decades-worth of comic books. 

He spends the night watching the first season of the X-Files instead.

* * *

“Hello,” Castiel says as Bruce/Fox steps up to the register. “What can I get for you today?” he asks politely, already reaching for the large paper cups.

Bruce/Fox smirks, his eyes following Castiel’s hands. “A large red eye.”

“Name?”

“Obi Wan Kenobi.”

Castiel frowns down at the cup. “Should I write Obi or Obi Wan?”

Obi makes a face that can only be described as distressed. “Goddamn, no Star Wars either?”

“Obi it is, then,” Castiel says, copying it down.

“Obi Wan if you’re nasty,” he says in a low voice, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

Castiel blinks. “Please tell me that’s another reference.”

Obi’s shoulders slump. “Yeah, it is.”

“Don’t worry, Jedi, I’ll fill him in,” Meg says as she takes the empty cup from him.

Castiel scowls at her. “You don’t need to do that,” he tells her sharply. “I can figure it out on my own.” As Meg stares at him in disbelief, he retorts, “I watched Batman Begins and the X-Files last week.”

“You did?” Obi asks, delighted. “So, what’d you thin –”

“Red eye for Obi Wan,” Meg interrupts.

“We’re not done here,” Obi promises Castiel as Meg shoves his cup at him and waves goodbye.

The next day, after Meg hears that Castiel watched Episode I – the logical beginning, any sane person would reason – she quickly sets him right with Episode IV and warns him to never slip to Obi he started with JarJar.

* * *

“Name?”

“Indiana Jones.”

Castiel frowns. “Are you ever going to give me your real name?”

Indiana leans in, bracing one elbow on the counter. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” He smiles, his green eyes crinkling at the corners.

Castiel’s brain fritzes out.

But before he can gather his wits together, Meg interrupts their conversation, “Move along, Indy, he’s not interested.”

Castiel gives himself a little mental shake to get it together. “What will you be having today?”

Indy scowls at Meg. “A large red eye.”

Castiel writes Indy in black letters on the cup as he gestures for the next person to come forward to order. “Thank you and please come again.”

“You come again,” Indy retorts nonsensically as he flees to the other end of the counter to wait.

* * *

From behind the register, Castiel narrows his eyes as his most memorable regular saunters up to the counter. “Hello,” he says, already reaching for the large cup. “Large red eye?”

“Yeah,” he says, staring at Castiel intently.

“Name?” 

“Butch Cassidy.” As Castiel writes Butch along the side, Butch asks, “Damn, no westerns in your arsenal either?”

Castiel shakes his head. “I’m afraid not.”

“Shame.” 

But Butch doesn’t move down the counter as their conversation lulls. Ignoring the two caffeine-deprived students behind him, he says in a casual voice, “I couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t shoot me down the other day – your little partner in crime did.”

Behind Castiel, Meg snorts. “What?” she asks as he throws her a curious look. “They’re good puns.”

Butch’s jaw drops.

Castiel blinks, equally surprised at Meg’s response. “I didn’t know you liked puns.”

“What you don’t know about me could fill a bible,” Meg says flippantly. She nudges him in the shoulder. “Pay attention, Sundance.”

Butch clears his throat. “So, what do you say...?” he pauses, “I still don’t know your name.”

Castiel bites his lip. “You don’t know me at all.”

Butch grimaces. “That’s the point of going out, man.”

Castiel glances at Meg, who rolls her eyes. “I’m not your keeper, Clarence. Do what you want.”

“I’m sorry, but no,” Castiel says, quietly but firmly. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable going out with someone I barely know.”

“Fine,” Butch says. “But I’m gonna keep getting my coffee here.”

Castiel huffs a noise that might be a laugh. “I look forward to it.”

Butch grabs a napkin and scrawls something on it. “’S not my number, don’t worry,” he says as he thrusts it at Castiel. “In case you forget.”

As he walks off, Castiel reads Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969).

* * *

After that, he starts leaving Castiel all sorts of recommendations on napkins, from Ghostbusters to Top Gun to Dirty Dancing (Meg has a good laugh when he uses a name from that movie).

“How come you don’t get any of my references?” he – James T. Kirk, today – asks. “It’s not that you don’t like movies or TV shows, or else you wouldn’t watch them after I bring them up.”

Castiel shrugs. “My parents never invested in a television or cable package, and going to movies alone was never particularly appealing to me.”

“Clarence grew up very sheltered,” Meg adds.

He cranes his neck to glare at her.

“What?” James stares. “Going to the movies alone is the best.”

Castiel reins in his surprise; James exudes such charm that would no doubt entrap any passers-by into attending the film with him.

“It’s the ultimate escape,” James continues. “You just sit there and watch the movie and forget about all the crap in your normal life. ’S why I’m a cinema studies major.”

“That doesn’t sound… too bad,” Castiel says tentatively. “I’m majoring in classics.”

The next day, James, going by Frodo Baggins, hands Castiel a ten dollar bill for his red eye and a single ticket to the local theater for the current blockbuster playing at 8pm.

* * *

Castiel smiles as his favorite customer approaches. “Name?” 

“Freddy Krueger.”

Meg snorts.

“What?” Freddy asks her over Castiel’s shoulder. “I’m thinking I should do theme-weeks. Like, Halloween’s in a few days.”

Castiel doesn’t bother confirming his red eye, and instead writes Freddy on the cup and hands it to Meg. 

As she prepares Freddy’s drink, Freddy grabs a napkin. 

Castiel reads Nightmare on Elm Street upside down before he takes the note from Freddy. “I was thinking,” he says as he pockets it, “You proposed a deal earlier.”

Freddy’s expression turns intrigued. “What deal?”

“I’ll tell you my name, if you tell me yours,” Castiel repeats.

Freddy grins. “Seriously?” He waits a beat, his eyes narrowing as the silence drags on. “You’re fucking with me.”

“I am not,” Castiel promises. “So? What’s your real name?”

Freddy taps his fingers against the counter as he deliberates his next move. “I dunno, you tell me,” he says, his voice infuriatingly playful.

Castiel crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you five? You need me to go first?”

Freddy nods.

Castiel stares him down.

Freddy stares right back.

“Large red eye for Freddy Kruger!” Meg announces loudly, and more than a few heads swivel around in surprise.

“We’re not done here,” Freddy swears as he takes the cup from her.

“I didn’t think we were,” Castiel says pleasantly.

* * *

“Your name?”

“Michael Myers.”

“That’s not your real name, is it?” Castiel asks suspiciously. Michael has used a few normal-sounding names before.

“Nope.”

Castiel rolls his eyes as he scrawls a messy Michael on a paper cup. “You can give me your real name, you know.”

“So could you,” Michael vollies back.

“You guys are so disgusting,” Meg says, snatching the cup out of Castiel’s lax hand. “Just get the big reveal over with. I’m getting cavities over here.”

“Sure, once he goes first,” Michael says. “I put in all this work to drop a new John Hancock every day; it’s the least he could do.”

“Like it’s work for you,” Castiel retorts. “You once dropped five references in a single sentence! You do it as easily as breathing.”

Michael scowls. “Tell you what, let’s up the ante. I guess your name first, and you go out to the movies with me.”

Castiel freezes. Michael hadn’t brought up dating since that first time he asked Casitel out. Deep down, Castiel knew he hadn’t let it go, or else he would stop flirting over coffee and keeping up the parade of fake names. But still, the request takes him by surprise. “And what if I guess first?” 

Michael shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

Castiel holds his hand out to shake on it.

Grinning, Michael does. “You’ve got yourself a deal… James?”

“That was your name a month ago,” Castiel tuts. “Try again.”

* * *

“Steve,” he says before Castiel can even ask for his name-of-the-day.

“C’mon, does he look like a Steve to you?” Meg asks, pinching Castiel’s cheek as she passes. 

Castiel swats her hand out of the way. “My name isn’t Steve.”

“Damn.”

“I’ll get that red eye for you,” Castiel says, glancing up at him from lowered lashes, “Sam?”

He bursts out laughing. “Close – that’s my little brother’s name.”

“Right, well, what should I write on the cup, then?”

“Let’s go with Norman Bates,” Norman says, still chuckling. 

“Going old school?” Meg calls appreciatively from over by the espresso machine. “Nice.”

“If it ain’t broke,” Norman says with a shrug. He turns to Castiel. “Are you dressing up for Halloween this year?”

Castiel purses his lips. “I wasn’t planning on it, but now I understand a great deal more costumes than last year.”

“That’s the spirit,” Norman says, his eyes sparkling.

* * *

Castiel’s usual, “Name?” dies on his tongue as he takes in how tired his favorite customer looks. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he says before yawning hugely. “Pulled an all nighter last night to marathon a few movies I slept through during lecture.” He grimaces. “Breathless can go fuck itself, and if anyone says French New Age film revolutionized cinema, run in the other direction.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Castiel says. “Name?”

“Ichabod Crane. Seriously, I almost fell asleep again –”

The customer behind him coughs loudly, and Castiel’s gaze flicks over his shoulder to see - “Dean?” he says.

Ichabod straightens, his face paling. “How’d you –”

“Large red eye, Meg!” Castiel calls as he gestures to the next person to step forward. “What can I get you Dean Adler?”

Castiel’s hard-ass Roman Philosophy Professor and Dean of the College stands behind Ichabod, already looking annoyed at the wait. “Large black coffee with an extra shot and extra cream.”

“Of course,” Castiel says as he swipes Dean Adler’s card through the machine.

By the time he looks up, Ichabod has disappeared.

* * *

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greets the next day.

Dean sheepishly smiles at him. “You figured it out?”

“Hard not to, when you went white as a sheet when I addressed the Dean,” Castiel says. “So I only thought it fair…” he drifts off, gesturing to his chest.

Dean’s eyes widen as he reads the HELLO MY NAME IS sticker stuck to Castiel’s shirt, along with a clearly printed CASTIEL below it.

“Cas-tee-el?” he sounds out. “For real?”

“Clarence was named after an angel,” Meg sing-songs from behind him.

Castiel rolls his eyes. “I won’t watch It’s a Wonderful Life on principle.”

Dean laughs. “It’s overrated, anyway.” 

Castiel grabs a cup and writes Dean in his best handwriting, turning it around to show Dean. 

He nods in approval. “So, you won. What’s your poison?” Dean grimaces. “I’m not getting on a plane – or listening to Jefferson Starship. There are some lines I won’t cross, even for a gentleman’s agreement.”

Castiel pulls out two tickets from his back pocket. “I was thinking we’d go see a movie.”

#suptober22 #destiel #fanfic #destiel fanfic #friends to lovers #getting together #first meetings #castiel & meg masters #university au #student castiel #student dean #barista castiel #rae writes fic

[runraerun]

I’m currently half way through Right Where You Left Me by outdean and WOW.

Like the Destiel stuff is amazing obviously but I’ve been reduced to a liquified state at the Jack and Claire in this fic. 💛 Especially Jack because of fucking course. Pink haired Jack with they/them pronouns who joins forces with their sister to parent trap Dean and Cas and defeat Dean’s evil new husband?? 💀💀💀💀💀

WHY DID I TAKE SO LONG TO READ THIS??

#Noah is evil idc I hate how he makes Dean feel #and how he treats Jack #you mess with Jack you get a smack #Jack in every shape and form is so good #but pink haired university student barista Jack who hates deans new husband has a special special place in my heart #right where you left my by outdean #outdean #destiel #Jack Kline #Claire Novak #I took so long to read this one because I was afraid it would be too angsty #and it is angsty but in the best way #destiel fic rec #anyway I highly recommend #I would have given anything for Jack and Claire to meet in canon #like Jack had zero friends #Claire and Kaia could have been his friends I’ll die sad about them never all hanging out #oops I already messed up jacks pronouns

[meatmandean]

wait until the supernatural fandom learns about the concept of sober bartenders who are recovering alcoholics this is gonna blow their minds

#they exist yall #i think dean would actually love working in a bar because of the energy of a bar! #its fun its social he would make ties with the community and bond with people!! #meanwhile i do think dean would hate being a barista. sorry people he would not thrive in that environment #owning a bar being a mechanic or being a firefighter #those are the ideal post canon jobs for him

[castielsfics]

(don’t) stop texting me by feelthe_beat 96k E cas keeps getting texts meant for someone named dean. he can’t understand why someone would keep giving out the wrong number

#destiel fic #100k #rated E #coffee shop au #barista castiel #heed the tags on this one- it gets heavy #also something that isn't tagged is animal cruelty - it's brief but just know that the cat is ok but figured i'd warn since it upset me #but honestly this is soooo good #cas is so sweet and jack is lovely #also ahhh i love dean being obsessed with bath and body works

[sheepstiel]

once again thinking about barista dean.

#dean posting #i need a good barista dean fic like yesterday

[im-some-lionheart]

So my friend who works at Starbucks told me a hot guy used to come on Fridays first thing in the morning, and he had a weird name and my friend ALWAYS misspelled it. Not on purpose or anything, but he kept trying to spell it differently and it never was the right way. Anyway. Imagine your otp.

#no but imagine dean trying to spell CASTIEL of all things #imagine your otp #barista #Barita trope #Coffee shop au #Coffee shop

[emotionalsupportknife]

I am offended on behalf of Castiel (Supernatural), it’s a beautifully layered heart, not an onion.

#dean daily #listen #I KNOW that's the joke #I KNOW IT IS #the former barista in my soul could not let it slide #also ANNIVERSARY???

[passiveagressivepoet]

barista dean my beloved <3

#it’s my favorite au/post hunting career #he would be a kickass barista #barista dean winchester #dean winchester

[goldenraeofsun]

a debt to be repaid

Rating: E

Length: 16.4k

For @deancodedcastielenby !

Ten years ago, Dean made a deal. To save his brother’s life, he promised a witch his firstborn child. It was a no-brainer since Dean never planned on churning out pups and settling down as the perfect house-omega. No, he was fine spending his fertile years sleeping around, wrapping it before tapping it, and all that jazz.

But now he has an angry, powerfully magical alpha on his doorstep, demanding payment.

Dean is so screwed - and not in the fun way.

Read here!

#destiel #fanfic #destiel fanfic #rae writes fic #omega dean winchester #alpha castiel #barista dean winchester #witch castiel

[chvoswxtch]

court's cafe

join me for a 4k followers friends celebration!

my freaky little darlings. you've gone and done it again. it is absolutely mind blowing to me to have over 4k of you as followers friends. whether you're new here, or you've been around for awhile, I love you and I thank you for hanging out with me. let's get this caffeinated celebration started. ✨

cafe hours: please place your orders from april 19th to the 30th! the cafe will be open from may 1st to the 31st.

cafe baristas: matt murdock | karen page | foggy nelson | elektra natchios | frank castle | billy russo | dinah madani | jessica jones | luke cage | dean winchester | aaron hotchner | derek morgan | spencer reid | emily prentiss | jennifer jareau | penelope garcia

☾ espresso- drabble (less than 100 words) based on a lyric, book, tv/movie quote (request over ice to make it spicy)

☾ macchiato- headcannons (request over ice to make it spicy)

☾ americano- blurb (less than 500 words) based on a lyric, book, tv/movie quote (request over ice to make it spicy)

☾ latte- tell me something about you & i’ll ship you with one of the baristas

☾ cappuccino- request a moodboard for one of my fics/one of the baristas

☾ cold brew- games! (cym, fmk, etc.)

☾ black coffee- tell me your drink order & i’ll give you a song (substitute a barista’s drink order for their song)

☾ iced coffee- ask me about any of my previous work, something i’m currently working on, or anything you wanna know about me

you must be 18+ to request a drink over ice.

these will all be posted on a separate masterlist to come.

hope to see y'all at the cafe!

#court's 4k followers celebration #court's 4k friends celebration #court's cafe #matt murdock #daredevil #karen page #foggy nelson #elektra natchios #frank castle #the punisher #billy russo #dinah madani #jessica jones #luke cage #dean winchester #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #spencer reid #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia

[xspeter]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 1

𐬺 ➾ 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑚！𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𐬺 ➾ 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒏 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒔𝒖𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒆, 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

𐬺 ➾ 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑘𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡！

There’s something so calming about autumn in New York.

Everyone is calming down from their summer adventures, central park is littered in decorative leaves, and every shop in town is decorated for the season.

You take a deep breath and are met with the warm smell of pumpkin as you enter the local coffee shop. The barista, who must know your order by heart at this point, greets you with a warm and welcoming smile.

You thank the woman briskly as she hands you your coffee, the warmth immediately filling your cold hands as you grab it.

You take a sip of your drink as you leave. As soon as you step onto the sidewalk you’re met with the sound of children laughing, and you glance towards the noise. You’re met with the sight of two children walking to school, one boy and one girl. Your heart pangs a bit at the nostalgia the sight gives you.

No matter how much you try to forget him, you know he’ll always be there. Like a moth to a flame, your thoughts will always eventually lead back to him- to Dean.

The way things ended between the two of you was no one’s fault, it was just a struck of fate that things had to end the way they did. You both wanted different things out of life. He wanted to stay on the road and fulfill his fathers legacy, and you.. well you wanted more.

You wanted an actual job, a stable life, kids, marriage…

Well, more like you wanted all that with him.

When you finally worked up the courage to express these thoughts to Dean, he had thought you were joking.

“What do you mean?” He asked, his warm hands creeping into your own cold ones.

You sniffled, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear, you explained more in depth. “I don’t want this life anymore, Dean. We don’t even have a real home. We’re constantly in different hotels, I don’t have any friends- no money- no nothing! I just want… I want a stable life for both of us. Do you really want to live like this for the rest of your life?”

Dean was silent for a moment, his pupils dialting in shock as he processes what you’ve said. What you’ve admitted to him.

In all the years he’s known you, which is a lot, Dean has never heard you express these thoughts.

“What’s gotten into you, y/n? You’ve never said anything about this before. I mean- since when did you want such a simple, boring life? I mean, what? You’re just gonna go live day to day just waiting to die? Because that’s what everyone else in this world does. We’re lucky! We get to have adventure. We don’t have to just sit down at some boring desk job with the rest of our lives laid out in front of us.” He said hurriedly, his breathing beginning to become erratic.

You bit your lip, “What if.. What if that is what I want, Dean?”

Dean stiffened, his hands instinctively going into his jacket pockets.

“Then I guess this is where we say goodbye.”

You quickly push the memory in the back of your mind, instead deciding to continue on your journey to work.

Of course you often wonder where Dean is and what he’s doing. Last you heard he was on his way to Stanford to pick up his brother, but that was seven months ago.

Sam, his brother, had the same idea as you. He wanted a different life, something without all the danger and unpredictability.

You know it hurt Dean when Sam left, but he still had his dad. And you think a part of him always knew Sam was different from the two of them. Even when you were growing up with the boys you could tell. Sam was more reserved, smarter. Where as Dean and his father were more adventurous, constantly looking for danger where danger shouldn’t be.

You feel a sense of relief as you enter your work building, happy to finally escape from the cold.

Dean knows there’s no possible way he’ll see you. New York is a big city, what’re the chances he’ll see you of all people?

“You okay?” Sam asks, placing a hand on his shoulder. Dean turns his head to look at him and goes he’s a nervous smile. “Yeah.”

Sam nods, obviously not believing him.

So much has happened since you left. Sam joined him on the road to find his father and also got powers, they found the demon who murdered their mother, and Dean would have died if his father hadn’t given his life for him.

So, yeah. A whole new bowl of trauma.

“You nervous you’ll see her?” Sam asks. Sam hasn’t seen you since he left home for Stanford, but he knows you leaving really hurt Dean.

Dean scoffs, “No.”

Sam just smiles, “Of course you’re not.”

“I’m really not.”

“It’s okay if you are-”

“I’m not!” Dean yells.

Sam puts both hands up in surrender, turning to continue putting his stuff in the drawers of their motel.

Dean sighs and rubs his temple. Of course he’s nervous he’ll see you. He just wishes things could still be how they were, when the nerves in his tummy were for a different reason.

Deans stomach flutters with butterflies as he knocks on your door. He grips the flowers so tightly his knuckles begin to turn white.

The door opens with a click and he’s met with the gentle, smiling face of your mother. “Hello, Dean.” She says cheekily. Dean laughs nervously, “Hello, ma’am.” He says, his accent slipping out a bit.

“She’ll be down here soon. Why don’t you have a seat while you wait?” She asks, leading the younger boy inside. Dean swallows as he takes a seat, careful to smooth down any wrinkles in his suit jacket.

“You look very handsome.” Your mother says, and Dean thanks her with a smile as she retreats up the stairs, most likely going to tell you that he’s arrived.

Dean fiddles with the pink flowers in his hands. Who would’ve thought going to prom with your long-time crush would be more nerve wracking then hunting monsters?

Dean practically shoots out of his seat once he hears the click of your heels down the stairs. Slowly, he watches you emerge. Your hair is down, and your wearing a beautiful flowing blue dress. You look like a princess.

“You look.. Wow.” Dean stammers, and you giggle, a dark pink coating your cheeks as your eyes sparkle up at him.

“You really think so?” You ask.

“I know so.”

“Are you ready to go?” Sam asks, pulling Dean away from the memory. Dean stands, rubbing his hands on his pants and rolling his neck.

“Yeah.”

Dean throws his head back against the leather seat with a groan. He forgot New York traffic was practically hell on earth.

“Well this sucks.” Sam sighs out annoyed.

“Give me a run down of the case again?” Dean asks Sam. Sam opens his notebook and skims over the details for Dean.

“Uh, women in their late 20’s are going missing off the subway. Usually y/h/c, y/e/c…” Sam swallows when he realizes who the description reminds him of.

Dean squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re positive?”

“I sure as hell wish I wasn’t.”

Your nose and cheeks are flushed a bright red by the time you get to the subway. Your hair blows against your face harshly as the train wizzes past, the crowds of people around you all pushing to get to where they’re going.

You used to feel overwhelmed in the subway, all the people and the constant rush of the train, but now you can positively say you’re an expert at navigating the underground station.

You push your hair behind you ear to prevent it from blowing in your face again, and out of the corner of your eye your positive you see someone eerily similar. Your head snaps in the direction, but instead of seeing him, you see no one. Suddenly your aware of how quickly the station has emptied. Leaving you and and just a few others.

You rub your eyes and try to ignore the fact that you’re starting to see things. You hadn’t done something like that in months- it must’ve been that memory from earlier.

Before you can think too much about it though, your subway arrives and the doors are opened. A cascade of people in all sorts of attire step out, and you push your way past them and step in.

Very few people are on your cart, with only a young couple sitting a few seats down from you. You try to assure yourself and assume it’s because of the late hour, but no… that wouldn’t be right, would it? It’s rush hour.

A sinking feeling in your stomach starts as you begin to put some of the pieces together.

Something paranormal had to be happening. Or were you just being paranoid?

You had hunted for just as long as Dean, your parents raising you just as Deans father had raised his boys. You knew the signs, but there was no way that’s what was happening here right?

The train stops once more and the couple gets off, and now you’re alone.

You take a deep breath and try to calm your nerves, you fists clenching and unclenching. You do your best to ignore the creaking of the train, or the way the lights begin to flicker.

A rotten smell fills your nose, and your now absolutely positive that something not natural is happening.

You reach into your purse to see if there’s anything at all that could help you, but stupidly you’d thrown out any and all weapons except for some pepper spray back when you’d first moved.

The air around you starts to feel suffocating as a black smoke begins to seep through the vents and any cracks it can, your eyes go wide as you start to panic.

The only thing you can think to do is chant an ancient protection spell under your breath, hoping that would drive the thing off at least for a second.

The smoke eventually meets in the middle, coming together to form a shadow of a man. There’s no definitive features- just dark, black, smoke.

It turns it’s head to stare straight at you, and you quickly bolt for an emergency stop or a door or- or anything really.

The smoke stretches it’s arms though, it wraps itself around your body like a snake as it engulfs all your senses. It goes into your nose and covers your eyes until all you can see is black. You begin to panic swatting and punching at what feels like an invisible force.

Suddenly- the blackness is lifted. You begin to stumble and almost fall, but someone is there to catch you.

You know who it is before you even turn around. You had dreamed about being held by these arms again for months.

“Dean..” You whisper, finding your standing and slowly turning to face him.

“It’s me, baby.”

“So there’s some entity that’s coming after women who look like me?” You ask, fiddling with your thumbs. Sam and Dean had filled you in on everything that’s happened in the few months you’ve been gone. It hurts your head that you weren’t there for them when they lost their father- but there was no way you could’ve known.

Sam nods his head, “Pretty much.”

You furrow your brows, brining your hand to your lips and beginning to nibble on your nails. A nervous habit. “Do you know what it is?”

Sam shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, “No. That was the first time we’d ever saw the thing.”

You sigh, running a hand down your face, “Amazing.”

You glance at Dean. He hasn’t said much of anything since they saved you, and his silence is putting you on edge.

Sam must notice the tension between you and Dean, because he stands and leaves with a smile and an excuse of going out for some food.

Once you and Dean are left alone, things are even more awkward. You continue to take glances at him, and if he notices he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stares at the table and fiddles with his thumbs.

“Dean…” You start, finally working up the courage to break the silence, but his position doesn’t change. You take a breath, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

He shrugs his shoulders, finally looking at you for the first time since he saved you. “Wasn’t your fault.” He mumbles.

You sigh, you feel the familiar build up of tears in your eyes and you place your head in your hands. Your hair falls around your face creating a curtain around you.

“I know that.” You sigh, “I just… I just wish I could’ve been here.”

Dean scoffs, he pushes his chair out from under him with a screech as he stands to his full height. “You could’ve been here, y/n! But you chose to leave- you chose to leave me and our relationship and for what? So- so you could be hunted by monsters?” He rambles.

You sigh, you expected this would happen, just not so soon. “Dean…” You mutter.

For the first time you see just how this last year has effected him. The usual light playfulness was no longer in his eyes, instead there’s a dark sadness you’ve never seen on him before.

“Why did you leave me?” He suddenly asks, “Was I not enough for you? Did I not- Did I not make you happy?”

You shake your head so fast you could’ve gotten whiplash, quickly, you stand next to him and attempt to reach out for him, but he pulls away.

You bite your lip, “You were everything to me. You think it was easy for me to leave? You think I don’t regret it everyday?” You sob, “I just couldn’t live like that anymore Dean! I was lonely and I was sick of constantly putting my life on the line. What’s the issue with just wanting a normal life?”

He rolls his eyes, “Yeah, and being hunted by a demon is normal-“

“That’s not fair.” You say, “You know that’s not fair, Dean.”

Dean sighs and bites his lip, he runs a hand over his face and nods his head, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and sit on the bed. “No. I’m sorry.” You say, “I should’ve… we could’ve kept in contact- or something… We didn’t have to break up. We could’ve gone long distance or-”

Dean sits down next to you and shakes his head softly, his eyebrows furrow and his eyes shine with tears, “No, we couldn’t of. There was no way we could’ve been able to stay together without seeing- feeling each other.”

“We would’ve made it work.” You mumble.

Dean sighs and rests his head in his hand, “We would’ve tried to, yeah, but… we would’ve just been hurting each other so much more.”

You sniffle and nod and pull your knees into your chest. No matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, he was right. The two of you would’ve only ended up hurting each other more in the end.

Slowly, Deans arm creeps around the middle of your back as he pulls you into his chest. You welcome his touch with open arms. The smell of pine cones and bond-fires filling your nostrils is one you’ve missed all too much. You snuggle closer in his hold, finally relaxing once you feel his arm tighten around you.

Hesitantly, you whisper, “I missed you. So much.” You say it so quietly you’re not even sure he heard you- but he did. He kisses the crown of your head and sighs out in relief.

“You have no idea.” He replies.

“You’re positive this’ll work?” You question Sam for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. Sam sighs, annoyance creeping in his tone as he replies, “Yes, i’m positive it’ll work.”

You swallow, “Okay,” You psych yourself up, “So all I gotta do is go in there and be bait?”

Sam nods, he closes his bad with a snap and throws it over his shoulder, “That’s pretty much it.”

Easy enough.

The three of you arrive at the subway station and slowly make your way down, it’s empty because of the late hour, only a few people every now and then.

Dean glances back at you every few seconds, clearly sensing the nervous energy you’re giving off. He slows his pace to match yours, letting Sam take the lead. “You don’t need to be nervous,” He says, “You’re the strongest woman I know. Plus, you’ll actually be able to protect yourself this time in case anything goes wrong.”

Your hand ghosts over the salt gun in your waistband and you reassure yourself. You groan, “I just feel a little… rusty, I guess.”

Dean chuckles, “You? Rusty? Last time I checked my girl is always on her A-game.” He says slyly.

You try to ignore the pink that begins to dust your cheeks as you shrug. The three of you walk in a comfortable silence as you get to the correct station.

Your chest fills with anxiety again, but you just roll your shoulders and push it into the back of your brain.

When the train arrives, the doors open with a swoosh and you enter. You glance back at dean as you do, reminding yourself he’ll just be in the train cart next to yours.

You sit and fiddle with your thumbs, the train cart is completely empty, which makes your anxious body feel even more uneasy. Your body rocks as the subway picks up speed, and you can’t tell if the lights are flickering like they would normally or if it’s because something else is here.

Your question is answered as the smell of something rotten begins to fill your nose, and your reaching for your gun before you can even process.

You have to remind yourself not to blow your cover, and instead take a breath, hoping the demon hadn’t noticed. The black shadow begins to creep into the cart just as it had before, and you mentally prepare yourself for whatever is about to happen.

The creature meets together to form a smokey figure of a man, just as it had before. The man walks towards you, and this time you really reach for your gun.

The man continues to creep closer just as Dean and Sam burst through the doors. Sam begins to chant some kind of prayer at the demon while Dean attempts to shoot at it.

The demon seems to have expected this though, because he continues to get closer to you until you’re eventually face to face.

“De-” You begin, but stop as the demon begins to fill your senses. It enters your nose and mouth, effectively choking you. You fight against it but it’s no use, your hands can’t even touch it.

Your vision goes black, and the last thing you see if Dean reaching for you before you pass out.

“Y/N? Are you awake?” Your vision is foggy as you open your eyes. You can’t make out the man in front of you, but you recognize his voice.

“Dean…?” You whimper out, your voice hoarse. You feel something wet hit your cheek as dean laughs and holds you closer to his chest.

“Yeah baby, it’s me. Thought I- thought I lost you for a second there.” He sniffles out.

You wrap your hands around his neck and pull him to your mouth. Dean ignores his shock and quickly accepts your advances. He kisses you sweet and slow, effectively showing you just how much he’s missed you and your touch these past few months.

When you pull away your met with his smiling face.

“You’ll never lose me,” You whisper, “Never again.”

𐬺 ➾ 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭!

tag list - @fictional-characters-i-love-them

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatrual #supernatural x reader #folklore event #taylor swift #angst #canon typical violence

[lilimalia]

GHOST OF YOUR GRASP // zhongli

SYNOPSIS... freed from your encasement, the Liyue you once knew is no longer what it was. he is no exception to this... and yet your own body can't seem to blend with the time of change as well as your surroundings have. thoughts haunt you, had he ever really known you?

CHARACTERS... zhongli/morax , guizhong, streetward rambler, cloud retainer,

DISCLAIMERS... angst, no comfort, female reader, short series, spoilers for Guizhong's story + lantern rite, lunar new years special !

BARISTA'S INTEL... sorry to all the lumine travellers! and welcome to the part 1.5 of this [SS]. please enjoy!

TAGLIST... @neverlandlostchild , @yae-raidenmyloves , @rcronoa , @@inky-oni , @milkiemei , @angèle , @tanspostsblog , @maybemiko , @cherlynono , @@seyboo , @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos , @ittosoneandoniwife ,

CAFE TUNE... How Do I Say Goodbye // Dean Lewis ! Another Love // Tom Odell !

He remembers only the solemn smile that had interlaced your face the night before it happened. The night he grieved for not the loss of one, but two.

Sometimes he forgets your smile.

Guilt etches out his heart whenever he does. Guilt he knows he might never be able to seal shut. It seems even with the season of festivity he won't ever be able to leave you behind.

You would have been preparing him mooncakes by now... And Cloud Retainer would have been boisterously chatting about her mechanical inventions. And the sound of red bean would have been wafting into the air. Streetward Ramblers music humming it's own hypnotic melody in the background.

If only he had cherished that sweet smile of yours a little longer... Only now, he cannot remember it's details.

He regrets it, hiding away from you, sparing his time to Guizhong, and yet his heart aches for the comfort of both. Of both dust and forge.

"Morax, what is it that troubles you?"

"It is... Nothing of relevance Cloud Retainer."

"You have always been a distasteful liar Morax... Why do you believe Duànzào has always settled your gambles with that of war?"

Her name stings his heart, like blade to anvil.

"Where has she gone?... [Y/n] has left the plains for far too long. Are you certain they aren't in any trouble?"

"The Goddess of Forge is more than capable of defending herself Morax. Even you are aware of it are you not? She herself is quite the ample partner in battle." Cloud Retainer responds, nimble fingers pushing upward her glasses as she huffs towards the god.

"Ah, Morax! Cloud Retainer! Fancy seeing you here!! How do you fare?"

"Ah, hello dear Guizhong, we were merely discussing the absence of [Y/n], I am doing well. How are you?"

...Maybe that's when it started.

Cloud Retainer has always been talkative. But her eyes never fail to spot the details that entail her. The pain that stricken her eyes when she sees him.

She remembers the hot tears that you had shed every night. Tear's that stung her heart like the sparks of the forge. Reminiscing the pain that laced your face as you curled into her adeptal body. Fetal in her grasps as your tears stained her satin clothes. You look so... vulnerable.

She never could remember a time before that you were so wilted. Mental fortitude slowly crumbling in front of her eyes. And yet you still pretended as if it was nothing. As if it wasn't tearing you apart.

Cloud Retainer respects that of Guizhong. Her kindness and sweet child like shine. But she praises you, your ability to hold under such diminishing hope, cradling it like a newborn as you passed everyday stricken by envy.

She misses you.

Misses that genuine smile, the one that could light up any room. The one that would light the Xiao Lanterns that would decorate the skies of Liyue every festival.

Cloud Retainer has learned many years of vices to cope with that of immortality.

What she would give to bring back that smile.

"Duànzào! Please! Please consider this!" she remembers yelling. Watching as your clothes flailed wildly against the breeze of the mountains.

"Cloud Retainer... The age of war is upon us. You must understand, if I do not flee now. I will succumb to the darkness of greed..."

"Please! I beg of you!..."

“All that I ask of you... Please. Understand my reasons.”

She knows your crying. She see's those damned tears dripping down onto the grounds of the mountains. Watching as you gaze out towards the serene mountains of Liyue. Tips dancing with hues of orange as they molded against the touch of the wind.

"Running away from your fears solves nothing! Please, Duànzào reason with yourself!" She remembers crying out. Arms reaching out to grab your figure only to be pushed back gently.

"Morax is a lovely man... Please, for me, keep him safe in this forsaken time of war... It is all I ask for" your voice trembles. Tears uncontrollable sinking down, heart wallowing in pain.

All she ever asked for was for you too stay.

Stay for her. For Rex Lapis, for the sake of the Adepti.

She watches you leap forward, helpless to move. Body paralyzed against the strength of your Adepti force.

"Duànzào!"

But you were no longer there to hear her desperate cries.

"Where is she?! Where has she gone?!" Morax yells. Posture of elegancy forgotten completely.

"She's ran off... She left the plains of Liyue. And that of Liyue whole." He remembers Cloud Retainer saying.

The memory is painfully sharp against his mind. The memory of your departure. The one he had failed to forsee.

The time of the Archon War was unbearable. He remembers being tormented by the dreams of your face. How lonely you must have felt to have left him. But why hadn't you come to him?... He would have grasped you in his arms, cradled you away from the horrors of the world.

He would have done everything in his power to make sure you felt safe.

"[Y/n]... Please, if you are out there listening. Come back to my side..."

They had both failed to say goodbye.

SPECIAL BREWS... Duànzào // the chinese translation for forgery

Morax's armor // the armour that Morax wore during the time of war was specially forged by [Y/n] as a gift for their 100 year friendship

Banner // [Y/n's] memory of Zhongli was constantly replayed during her time in her Adeptal "jail", it hurt her to keep seeing him so much that she used her own power’s to blur out his face. Hence why the banner is glitched out

Cloud Retainer // [Y/n] confided with Cloud Retainer her darkest secrets, but her love for Zhongli was hidden away from Cloud Retainer in fear of being deemed lowly, it's one of the reasons Cloud Retainer regretted your disappearance so much

BARISTA'S INQUIREMENT... This was really hard for me to write... I feel like I didn't do as well this time around. I'd love your feedback!

word count. 801

Tag list form !

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©-FUTURIST... Please do not plagiarize, themes are edited by me, reblogs allowed, do not repost on any other platform!!

Banner credits: @veauwa

#miwrites #mireqs #zhongli angst #zhongli x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli #zhongli x y/n #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact #cloud retainer #streetward rambler #guizhong #genshin morax #morax x you #morax x reader #rex lapis #lantern rite

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

One Day, I’ll Say Hello

Dean Winchester Masterlist  

Summary: It keeps happening. Whenever he goes, Dean seems to bump into the same girl. Every time, he finds himself unable to speak to her. When he meets her again at the beach, everything finally makes sense.

Warning: Mention of grief, a bit of angst, crying, car accident, but also fluff, crack, and lots of sun bathing

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader

Word Count: 2869

A/n: Hello everyone! So this is the first fic I’m posting after my long hiatus! This is for @smellingofpoetry​ writing challenge, with the prompt “Feeling the warmth on your naked skin”. Big thank you to @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​ for helping with correction, the title, and cheering me up!

"I'm starting to believe you're following me."

The voice startled him instantly, and his first instinct was to put his hand on his belt. But he found it empty, he left his gun in the car. Regardless, he didn't need it, not after he recognized who the voice belonged to.

"Well," a smirk drew across his face as he walked over to the source of the voice. "Looks like even fate wants us to stay together." Giving a wink he thought was devastating, Dean quickly lost his smile when he noticed the girl's expression. It clearly wasn’t the time to bother her, not again. "Oh, uhm, sorry, I think my flirting skills are rusty, I'll leave you be."

"No!" She sounded rushed, scared, even, of being left alone. "You're not bothering me. Stay, I'd love to have some company.”

The big, seductive smile back on his face, Dean took a few steps towards the girl. The sand was warm under his bare feet, and he accepted the feel of the grains sliding between his toes with joy. With each step, he felt like he was sinking deeper into the sand. But the closer he got to her, the warmer he felt.

Close enough but leaving a respectable distance between them, he dropped down to the ground, and set his shoes next to him. Then, in silence, they just enjoyed the moment.

It was very nice. The sun was beating down hard on their heads, but neither of them minded. It was a feeling he craved, and he laid on his back in the sand to let the warm rays settle on to the bit of exposed skin he offered up. The sounds of the waves moving in the distance, brought a calm sensation in his body.

“You know,” her voice finally broke the silence. “You would enjoy the sun a lot more if you were in a swimsuit.”

At these words, Dean smiled. "If you wanna see me naked, you can just say."

A laugh followed his comment. "Of course. My first desire when I meet someone is to see them naked. Nice try."

"For the record," he turned his head towards her, ignoring her last statement, "you're not really dressed for the beach either.”

The girl turned her head to stare at him, then lifted her sunglasses up to contemplate what she was wearing. Her shorts ended a little above the knee, and she had her tank top pulled up a bit, so she could feel the heat of the sun on her stomach.

"At least I'm getting more sun than you, with all those clothes and layers you've got on," she smiled, then rolled back into position, lying on her back with both arms extended to either side of her body. She sighed, content.

Dean couldn't help but study her; he didn't usually stare at people like that, but something about her made him curious in a way he hadn't been in a while. There was something special about her, and it wasn't only her stunning beauty.

He didn't know her that well, but… 

As he continued to stare at her, the memories of their first meeting came flooding back to him. 

Before

“Coffee for Y/n!”

Distracted by the current hunt he was dealing with - the apocalypse coming just around the corner, and his brother off god knew where - Dean wasn’t paying attention to the name being called flby the barista, or to the name written on the cup. Completely absorbed in his thoughts, he grabbed the coffee and headed for the exit, sipping on it.

“Blerg!” He immediately spat out the much too sweet drink. “Disgusting!”

"Uhm, sorry."

Too busy trying to come up with a stronger word than "disgusting" for the sugary concoction, Dean wasn't paying attention to the voice that spoke behind him; he simply continued on his way towards a trash can, ready to throw away the foul liquid.

“Hey!”

Suddenly, a hand entered his sight to grab the cup before he could throw it away.

"What's wrong with you!" He exclaimed, turning to the person who had just interrupted him. A multitude of insults were ready to cross his lips, but he forgot them all when he saw the person in front of him.

"What's wrong with me? Well, tell me - what's your name?"

He couldn't believe his eyes or ears. Not only had they made a mistake on his order, but now a stranger, who was far too charming, was stealing it from him when he was about to put it in the garbage? And now she was asking his name?

“Funny way to flirt, but okay, I'll bite. It’s Dean.” The hunter crossed his arms over his chest, puffing it out in an attempt to look more buff. But that only made the girl laugh as she took a sip of the sweet coffee. "Hey, that's mine!" he chastised.

“Next time you order a coffee, Dean, make sure it’s your name on the cup.”

Completely taken aback, Dean didn't have time to react or reply before the stranger was leaving. He only caught a quick glimpse of the name written on the cup before she was gone.

It definitely wasn’t Dean.

“Son of a bitch.”

It was not the only time he crossed paths with the woman. The same day, a few hours later, he was back at the motel doing research on his computer for the current hunt when suddenly everything went black.

The power was out.

“Son of a bitch!!!”

It really wasn't his day.

Dean ran his hands over his face, sighing. Usually it was Sam who did the research on hunts. But after what he told him… Sam was gone. A simple fight had quickly turned into a shouting mess, and although he was still angry with his brother, Dean regretted some of the things he said.

Sighing once again, Dean got up and left his room. As it was late at night, it was dark and it took him a while to find the front desk of the motel.

There was no one.

"Of course."

Dean jumped over the counter. Since he didn’t have the key or the permission to be there, he had to act quickly. Luckily, he knew where the breaker was, all he had to do was open the door to his right, walk a little in the hallway, and then, the electrical room was there. After turning the power back on, Dean walked back to the counter again and on the other side...

“You’re kidding right, you’re telling me you work here?”

The girl from the cafe was in front of him, her arms folded across her chest. Taken aback, Dean didn't know how to react, once again. It was twice in one day that he ran into her, and both times he was at a loss for words.

When he didn't answer, the girl turned to leave, but luckily the hunter's body worked faster than his mouth. “Wait!”

He eventually caught up with her as she stopped in front of a door. Raising an eyebrow, she waited for him to speak.

Come on Dean, say something! Speak, why can't you say anything to her!

"They are all the same," she mumbled to herself as she turned to the door to unlock it. It was her room.

"I don't work here."

Stopping in her tracks, she turned her head to signal she heard him. “Okay. But I think I would have preferred you did. Because now, explaining your presence there is suddenly very complicated.”

There was a simple, easy-to-share explanation for his presence there. But yet, when he tried to say it, Dean once again found himself unable to form a coherent sentence. Why was he having so much trouble talking to this girl?

“Anyway, not my business, just glad the lights are on again.” She opened the door and took a step inside, then another, and as he finally found his voice, the door closed right in his face.

"Son. Of. A. Bitch.”

And it was like that every time they met. And they seemed to meet all the time and everywhere. At the grocery store. On the sidewalk, walking the same direction. Even at a red light where she crossed the street. Wherever he went in the days following their first meeting, Dean seemed to bump into her.

A few days later, the hunt was over and the bones burned. The ghost turned out to be a girl that died in a car accident a couple of weeks ago. She was targeting drivers who exceeded the speed limit on the city's main street, causing fatal accidents. One victim died, the others only suffered injuries. 

And luckily for Dean, both him and Baby came out of this hunt without a scratch.

But that was just from the outside. Because inside of him, the wounds didn’t want to heal.

Now

Lying on this beach, next to the girl he had spent the last couple of days constantly walking into, Dean's thoughts were lost again.

"What are you thinking about?"

Her voice pulled him out of his head, and he noticed he was still staring at her. After clearing his throat, Dean turned his attention back to the sky and the blinding sun. 

"Just… Um…" A sudden shadow soothed the burning rays of the sun in his eyes, and he blinked a few times to see the girl sitting beside him, one hand placed perfectly in front of him to shade his eyes. He swallowed with difficulty, like there was a ball in his throat and got up on his elbows. 

“I didn't pay attention back at the café, that’s why I picked up the wrong order. I don't work at the motel, I just wanted the power to be back on, but since there was no one there, I fixed it myself. And I swear, I wasn't following you. It was all just weird coincidences that I can't explain." 

Finally, he managed to say all the things he'd wanted to tell her every time he ran into her. It felt good to finally have control over his voice again.

"Mm hmm," she nodded, and Dean wished she didn't have her sunglasses on so he could admire her eyes. "I noticed you didn't seem very focused. Want to talk about it?"

Since he was unable to see her eyes, Dean focused on her lips. "Why would I want to talk about my problems to someone whose name I don't even know?" He replied, hoping it would prompt her to reveal her identity.

A smile tugged at her perfect lips. “Oh, but you know my name. It was written on my coffee.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Also, after all our encounters, don't you think fate would like us to get to know each other?”

At her words, Dean sat up completely. It didn't matter if he was covered in sand or that now, the sun was beating down on his face again. He liked the warmth it gave to his skin. “Fate is a bitch.”

She cocked her head to the side, amused, then took off her glasses. “Fuck fate, then. Why were you stealing other people's coffee, Dean?"

A small laugh escaped him as he thought for a moment. "My brother." 

The words then seemed to come out all on their own. One after the other. He told her everything, well, apart from the supernatural aspect of his life. He told her about his fight with his brother, the only family he had left. How hard his job was, that he hadn't taken a moment for himself in so long; he couldn't even remember the last time he just laid down to feel the heat of the sun on his skin. And he told her about the regrets he had for some of the things he'd said and done.

She listened carefully without interruption. And when he was done telling her everything that was on his mind, he waited nervously for her to call him crazy and selfish. After all, it was the truth. 

But that didn't happen.

“I’m sorry life sucks so much right now.” Her gaze wandered to the horizon. “You seem to really love your brother.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You should call him,” she turned her head towards him. As the sun went down, leaving with its warmth and light, he could see all the sadness of the world shining in her eyes. “Don't add more regrets to the ones you already have.”

“What if he doesn’t want to talk to me?”

She laughed softly. It was the saddest laugh Dean had ever heard, like she was accepting the truth, and the truth was that she'd never be happy again. One of her hands wiped her cheeks and left small grains of sand on her skin. 

“That's the worst that could happen if you call him; what's the worst that could happen if you don't?”

Dean nodded. It made a lot of sense. Sam could refuse to talk to him…hang…never forgive him. But if he didn’t try… He had no idea how much worse it could get. 

“And you," he asked, "why are you here?”

She was likely expecting that question from him, because her gaze once again fell on the vast ocean before them. “Regrets, just like you.” 

Her body language changed then. She started playing with her hair, her feet sinking into the sand as though to feel something, anything, other than the pain she was feeling right now as memories flooded back into her head. "But for me, it's too late."

She had listened to him and been there for him, so obviously Dean wanted to do the same. "I'm sure it's not."

Shaking her head, she sighed. “It is. She passed away last month. A month already…” The sun was almost completely gone and the cold had settled onto the beach. Dean had no idea if she was shaking because she was cold or because she was in pain.

“We had a fight. You know, even best friends can disagree on things. I said mean things to her, the only person that ever stayed by my side… She was my everything. And I ruined everything.” Passing her hand over her cheeks again, Dean noticed the silent tears that had started to flow a while ago.“It was about speeding. I told her she was driving too fast. Well, I was right in the end.”

A sob broke her words.

And Dean understood.

The ghost he had to take care of… Was her best friend. Even after death, she remembered what they talked about, and wanted to do good. In the worst possible way. Causing people that were speeding to crash on that same road where she lost her life.

His heart sank as the pain she was feeling mingled with his own. And without noticing, he had his arms around her shoulders, holding her against him while she cried. Her body was shaking so much, her warm tears quickly soaking through his shirt. But he didn’t mind.

They stayed like that until the sun disappeared completely, and then, they stayed longer. Finally, he drove them back to the motel and walked her to her room.

“I don’t need your number,” she said as she stepped backwards into her room. “I’m sure we’ll bump into each other again.”

“You bet,” Dean winked, a smile stretching his lips. They said goodnight, and he walked back to his own room. The conversations they'd had wouldn’t leave his mind. So he got his phone out, scrolled through his contacts, and stopped at the letter S, staring at Sam's name.

It wasn’t too late. But it could be if he didn’t do anything.

Without further hesitation, Dean pressed the call button.

-

It took a day for Sam to come back. When he finally arrived at the motel Dean was staying in, he was expecting a lot of things. Apologies from his big brother, hugs, anger, and probably more fighting. But he definitely hadn't expected to walk in on the scene he did.

“Ouch! Son of a bitch!”

“Hello?” Sam pushed the door open, looking everywhere but not finding his brother. “Dean?”

“Bathroom,” Dean answered and Sam followed his voice. What he found there was definitely more than unexpected. 

Sam couldn’t help bursting into laughter as he was met with a very red faced Dean. 

“What happened? Did you forget protection?”

His brother's whole face was burnt, and when Sam looked down, he could see that Dean's feet had suffered the same fate.

“Ha. Ha.” Dean laughed sarcastically as he looked at himself in the mirror again. It was bound to happen, spending the day outside, under the sun, with no sunscreen on… 

He looked like a tomato.

But it was worth it. 

“I’m glad you came back, little brother,” Dean said as he met Sam’s eyes in the mirror.

Sam stopped laughing and nodded, a soft smile on his lips. “I’m glad you called. But I need to know, what did you do while I was gone?”

To that, Dean just smiled. “I ran into someone. More than once.”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245​​ @eevvvaa​​ @wickedinspirations​​ @fictional-affairs​​ @awkward-and-indecisive​​ @peachyaliien​ @katbratsupernaturalwhore​​​

Supernatural Tag List: @peachyaliien @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl @this-is-me19​

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278​​​ @siospins2 @kazsrm67​​​ @wtrpxrks​​​ @deanwanddamons​​​ @thoughts-and-funnies​​​ @charred-angelwings​​​ @jensendreamland​​​ @deanswaywardgirl​​​ @happyt0exist​​​ @waynes-multiverse​​​ @djs8891​​​@mimaria420 @this-is-me19​​​ @syrma-sensei​

#smellingofpoetry400celebration #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester crack #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #feeling the warmth of the sun #beach day #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural dean #supernatural dean winchester #supernatural dean x reader #supernatural dean x you #supernatural dean winchester x you #supernatural angst #supernatural dean winchester x f!reader #f!reader #tw grief #car accident #losing someone

[ambersgems]

Bonded - Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Soulmate AU where you can feel your soulmate's emotions. When you meet, usually their name appears on your wrist.

A/N: This is my first written piece on here, so any feedback is appreciated/welcomed! It was kind of rushed so not my best work lol. I'm not sure if I want a second part to this or not, so let me know if you'd like to see a continuation. I also would love requests for anything Dean, Chris Evans characters, or Sebastian Stan characters! It can be blurbs, drabbles, or longer! Oh, also I imagine Dean being around 28/29 here while reader is approaching 25.

Word Count: 1.4K

Something was wrong. You knew as soon as your eyes flew open that you weren’t going back to bed anytime soon. Your hand was placed on your chest, heart beating increasingly faster as you laid in the dark. You tried to think back. Were you having a bad dream? No. This must be him. It happened more frequently than you’d like. You’d wake up in the middle of the night, heart pounding and palms sweating. Each time you could feel it, the danger. He was in danger. You just knew it. 

You wondered what he did for a living that would cause him to land himself in such terrifying situations so often. Was he in the military? Maybe he was an adrenaline junky or a storm chaser? Whatever it was, you found yourself silently praying that he survived whatever was causing his fight or flight response to trigger once again.

Swinging your legs off the side of the bed, your feet hit the cool hardwood floors and cause you to shiver. You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stand and get out of bed to wander into the kitchen. You weren’t exactly sure if he felt your emotions too or not. How could you know if you haven't met him yet? There were times like now that you hoped desperately that he could. Maybe, just maybe, he could feel you trying to calm him in whatever capacity that you could. Sometimes that meant making chamomile tea and reading a book to try and lower his stress response or sometimes it meant a hot shower to relax the intense muscles you felt in your body from him. 

There were other times, however, that you hoped he really couldn’t feel your emotions the way you could feel his. He seemed to already have enough on his plate, with the intense nights and at times what could only be described as heartache. You didn’t know what he was going through, but you knew you didn’t want to add your baggage to it. 

So, when you cried at work the other day, you dried your eyes as quickly as possible, not wanting to burden him if he felt the same heaviness in his chest as you did. It was the same situation at home, though. You tried your hardest not to give into the depths of your lonely despair. After all, most of your friends had already found their soulmate, but yours seemed to be nowhere to be found. There were times that the only way to drown out the hurt was to just stay disconnected. When you weren’t actively trying to calm your mystery man, you tried your best to ignore him. 

You didn’t want to get your hopes up. There were plenty of people in this world who never met their soulmate, and they were left to live a life without them. You’d actually witnessed your friend’s first interaction with her soulmate. 

When you two were back at college, she was a barista at your local coffee shop, while you were a research assistant for one of your professors. You kept completely different hours, which is why on that particular day, you decided to hang out with her in the coffee shop to spend some more time with her, even if you were just studying at one of the tables. She had been anxious all morning, and you knew it wasn’t her emotions that she was feeling. She was a naturally confident person, never second guessing herself, but that morning she was a frenzied mess. She even told you herself that it felt like it was her soulmate and not her own emotions. 

After she had wiped down the tables for the billionth time that morning, a gangly and somewhat dorky guy came rushing into the shop. You could practically feel the anxiety buzzing from him as soon as he came in, pushing his dark framed glasses up his nose and clumsily slipping on the newly mopped floors. There was a loud smack, and the next thing you knew you watched as your friend reached her hand out to help the guy sit up. What really took your attention was the groaning that came from both parties. You watched them both wince in pain, looking down as they watched each other's names etch into the other’s wrist at the same time. It was like the world clicked into place for them both at that very moment. 

It turned out, Luke was a law school student, cramming for a very important exam that morning. His naturally anxious personality was quite the opposite of your friend’s, but they seemed to work together in harmony. 

Fast forward and they were still the picture perfect couple. He doted on her more than any man you’d ever seen, and she was head over heels for her nerdy guy. It was sweet, but you hated to admit how hard it was to be around them. You were happy for them both, but it stung to know that you were getting closer to the Age of Choice than you wanted to be. In a mere 8 months you’d be free to make a decision you never wanted to make.

Age 25 meant you were at what was called the “Age of Choice.” You could choose whether or not you wanted to marry your soulmate. If you hadn’t met them by 25, you had the right to choose someone else. You didn’t have to wait any longer to marry someone else, and somehow that hurt worse than not having met your soulmate. What if he had already reached the Age of Choice and he had already decided on someone else? The thought gripped your chest harder than you would like to admit. 

All of these thoughts ran through your mind as you made your tea in the kitchen, reliving your friend’s soulmate encounter and your fear for the future. You ran on autopilot as you thought about all of these things, finally making your way to the couch to perform your calm down ritual for your soulmate. It took all of about 90 minutes to feel like you had completely settled his nerves. By the time you had realized he had calmed down, you had fallen asleep on the couch.

This time your eyes flew open for a different reason. The loud blaring of your alarm was unwelcomed by your lack of sleep as you wandered back to your bed to turn it off. It was times like this you were glad you had a studio apartment. 

The morning seemed to get away from you. This time it was your turn to be the anxious party. You really couldn’t afford to be late to work this morning. Your boss had scheduled a very important meeting 15 minutes after the workday began and a day filled with projects that need to be completed “ASAP” as your boss would like to say. 

As soon as you entered the office, the atmosphere was different than any other day. You could feel it. Everyone seemed to be stiff and uncomfortable. You didn’t understand until two men turned around at the front desk. 

“You must be Miss Y/L/N?” the tallest one asks as your brows furrow. You didn’t recognize either of the two men, but you studied them as quickly as you could. 

“That’s me. Can I ask who you are?” you questioned, trying to be polite, but not wanting to deal with anything else this morning that you didn’t have to.

“I’m agent Smith and this is agent Jones, we are here to ask you a few questions about your boss,” the shorter of the two answered, reaching out and grabbing your hand.

You hiss and your eyes burn with tears as you look into his green ones, shock filling your body as you yank your hand away from his. Looking down, you see the name “Dean” etching itself into your wrist. Your hands shake as you look up at the tall man, confusion covering your face when you don’t see your name on his wrist. 

He groans, hand gripping his chest. He pulls at the buttons, looking down and seeing your name written right over his heart and underneath another strange looking tattoo. Your mouth falls open as your eyes widen, swallowing thickly. 

“Well, sweetheart, looks like we’re not only soulmates, we’re bonded. And we need to have a conversation,” you hear ‘Dean’ say gruffly, a smirk dancing on his lips.

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