#a large boy enjoys a generous helping of greasy burgers

[chubunited]

A very big boy for a happy fastfood thanksgiving! Ft my very ~helpful~ pal @dustysandstorm

[the-canary]

All The Stars Aligned - S.R

Summary: A person really isn’t what you make of them in your head. They are something much greater than that. (College AU!Reader/Steve Rogers)

Masterlist

A/N: I saw @eufeme‘s little prompt thing and i came up with this short thing. as always recently, mood music is brought to you by st. vincent with all my stars aligned. please also note that i am writing under the assumption that the main character goes through some major changes through the college years.

Please enjoy and feedback is always welcomed.

You first remember meeting, well more like seeing, Steve Rogers during freshman orientation. He was a skinny thing that wore clothes two sizes too big for him, and hung near the end of the group, which you were also doing but for different reasons. The guide was talking and showing you everything that you would be using for the next four years, though you weren’t paying much attention obviously more entranced by the clouds up above. It isn’t until the group starts going up a hill that you hear a deep heaving, though nobody seems to be paying attention. You stop and and head back to where he is, as he is taking in deep gulps of air, while holding onto his knees with his head in between them.

“Hey, maybe you should sit down,” you try to give some assistance, as blue eyes turn up to look at you, “Wouldn’t want anything to happen before school starts.”

He nods, as you point him to a bench at the beginning of the gentle slope before it turns into the hill that nearly killed the poor boy’s lungs, though you don’t say anything besides that. You know from personal experience that some people didn’t like to be babied and you try your hardest to respect that as he took his inhaler out of his pocket.  You wait for him to calm down, as you fiddle with your phone for a bit.

“Thanks,” is all he manages to say, as you look through your bag and hand him a bottle of water, “Ya didn’t have to.”

“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t the right thing do,” you shrug as blue eyes widen for a moment, though you aren’t paying attention at the moment as you are midway through another raid in your mobile game. Steve takes a big gulp of water and can’t help the large grin on his face.

“Where are ya from?” he manages to ask after a while, as your eyes flicker to see he has completely turned to look at you, “I’m commuting from Brooklyn.”

“Living on campus. Jersey girl, born and raised.”  

Steve lets out a nervous laugh, Bucky would surely have his head for this --  if he ever heard of it.

 You swear that you don’t mean to be that person in the English Department, the one student that all the professors talk about due to their differing opinions on what is being taught. It’s just that you have a different viewpoint when it comes to certain literature, and it always had to be with Dr. Phillips.  During freshman year, it had been on the meaning behind the blue topaz in your creative writing final. Last semester, it had been over the concept of “loneliness” in Carson McCullers's book, now you couldn’t help but groan as he declares that Daisy is a fool for not loving Jay Gatsby.

“Do you disagree, Miss?” the old professor questions, as some of the students turn to look at you.  Even Steve, who is sitting in the back doodling, since he is taking this course as more of a general education requisite more than anything else and while he did all the work nothing really interested him -- until you started talking.

“Well, yeah. I think they were more in love with the concept of the other than the actual person,” you start up, as some of your classmates can’t help but nod, “I mean, Gatsby didn’t know what Daisy wanted, but he wanted to live the type of life she had. He was in love with the lifestyle, and Daisy for all her fooling around never left that lifestyle when asked if she wanted to be with him --- she was never willing to leave for love. They were just using each other, no?”

There is a low murmuring of agreement between the people you know are English majors, as a new round of discussion starts around your ideas for the rest of class. The redhead next you whispers something, which causes you to laugh and from Steve’s vantage point, he can’t help but start drawing your profile.

And maybe, Steve is falling in love with the concept of you as well.  

However, thankfully, life isn’t an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel and Steve starts to see less and less of you as his prerequisites are completed and he completely focuses on his art degree. Steve never mourns you though, he doubts that you even remember him from the handful of occasions that you had interacted with each other, but he knows that you are there somewhere on campus drinking overpriced coffee and still fighting with the professors -- and he’s okay with that. He grows out of his small body (literally), moves closer to the university when Bucky transfers, and even tries dating an English medical student though it doesn’t work out. Life goes on until it hits you again.

In the first semester of junior year, Steve is going through an Egyptian art phase thanks to his tutelage underneath Dr. Erskine, an eccentric doctor that in his latter age traveled and painted. Due to this, a nameless woman that always ordered at the same diner as him catches his attention, well more like her back --uncovered due to the unbearable New York heat-- wouldn’t leave him alone, as he often found himself sketching it out when he was bored. He wanted to know the history around it, maybe he wanted to know more about her as well. However, even now standing at 6’ feet, he still feels like skinny Steve from two years.

After a month of watching her, Bucky does him the sore favor of pushing him into the poor woman waiting for her order, as they sit on the front countertop. Her eyes are covered with large sunglasses, as she gives him an annoyed grimace, at least from what he can see.            

“H-Hey! Is that the Eye of Horus on your back ?” Steve tries to nervously lead the conversation after giving a brief apology, and she entertains him for the moment.

“Yeah? ” she manages to answer, unsure of where this is all going and Steve swears that Bucky is laughing behind him.

“ Ah cool, but what do you need its protection from ?” he keeps questioning, as she moves away slightly. One hand on the back of her neck in embarrassment and the other on her bag of greasy fast food.

“ Everything, especially my social anxiety ,” she tries to laugh at her own expense, but it comes out strained, as Steve can now hear Bucky curse softly in the back. Both of them now feeling bad for bothering her.

“ Oh shit, I’m sorry, ” is all he can manage to say, as she starts backing away.

“ Hahaha, ‘kay, cool, no problemo ,” she turns away, trying to save face, and heads out the exit as Steve heaves out a weary sigh, feeling sorry that he had scared her away.

“Sorry, Stevie,” Bucky manages to say after putting his burger away,  knowing that he might have ruined his best friend’s chances in one blow.

“It’s okay, punk,” Steve says as he tries to best to smile.

However, some thing up above is kind to Steve Rogers as he starts to see the Eye of Horus girl everywhere: in the hallway, during school events, and now sitting in the coffee shop on a laptop sitting across Natasha Romanoff -- a redhead that double majored in Russian lit and art who Steve had interacted with a couple of times during those “Red Room” art classes that he would like to forget. However, aside from all that is really stuck in his head at the moment is going to apologize to her, though for a brief moment her laughing at something Natasha says makes him think of something else, of someone else and he hopes Sam’s psychoanalyzing has gotten to him again. Well, here he goes.

“Hey, Natasha,” he manages to say without a crack in his voice, as both women look at him, “I was wondering if you had the notes for Dr. Fury’s Cubism class.”

“Oh...yeah,” the redhead says with some suspicion in her voice, as Steve takes a sip of his over sweetened coffee, while she rummages through her bookbag. Eye of Horus girl looks up from her laptop once before going back to typing, “Here ya go, Steve. But, I don’t know--”

“ Steve Rogers ?” the woman suddenly squeaks out, which has both art students looking at the blushing mess she is turning into.  

“Yeah, why?” he manages to finally ask, as all of the familiarity from two years ago rushes forward. Those twinkling eyes are cautious and the once familiar uptick of a smile is set to a serious frown.  

“Oh shit,” she mutters quietly, as Natasha starts laughing before calming down and saying her name softly, as if trying to stop her from getting nervous all over again.

He knows that name, and his original concept of you is shattered.  

Steve learns quickly that the confident facade he had seen before hid a more cautious woman that tended to shy away from the limelight unless something really bothered you. You had gotten your tattoo back in sophomore year after a tough semester through one of Natasha’s friends, Clint, but it was her original design. You liked wearing charms for protection and played with the rings on your fingers whenever you can. Your smiles are rare, unless you’re with Natasha, but there’s the most beautiful things he’s seen — he swears it to Bucky over and over again the first time he makes you smile on his own.

“A green light?”  you ask looking at Steve’s finished picture for his next art show. You’re standing next to him as he smiles at the green mist that it the majority of the his painting, as you simply stare at it with your arms crossed over your chest and a frown, trying to figure what book its from -- since that was the theme of said gallery show.

“Just like Gatsby,” he laughs, as you finally put two and two together and groan.

“Are you trying to romanticize that awful novel?”

“More like warn them,” he shrugs as you start laughing. The sounds catches him off-guard, though he can’t help but grin at the smile blooming on your face.  

Over time, Steve falls in love with the person that he has come to known that you really are, though he still doesn’t forget the teenager with the kind heart that helped him almost four years ago. Blue eyes look at you from outside of the coffee shop window on a wintery December day shortly after the last finals for junior year have been completed. You play with the ring on your right index finger before turning the page of the book you have been reading. He smiles, as he opens the door and gets ready to pour his heart out and show off the latest thing he has been working on.

A concept drawing on someone you love.

And while, he isn’t in love with the idea of just “you” anymore, Steve knows that that he’s madly in love you as a person and all that you are, and he wants to keeps seeing you grow and change as long as you’ll let him.   

[winsister91]

The Best Present Awards

Summary: @spnaddict11283 asked: Well, if you wanted a suggestion... my birthday is next Friday. Maybe a fic where it's the readers birthday and Dean didn't know, but Sam or Cas told him? (Deanxreader btw. And maybe they're in a relationship?) If not that's fine, just a suggestion!!  btw, smut it pretty cool *wink wink* Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Cas Word Count: 3375 (Yeah, I got lost in this one for a bit) Warnings: Smut, fluff A/N: @spnaddict11283  I’m so SO sorry I’m a couple of days late with this!! This is my general failing as a human being. I hope you had an amazing birthday!! Now go enjoy it with Dean ;)  Unbetad so all mistakes (which there no doubt will be plenty of) are mine! Feedback always appreciated guys!

My Masterlist! ~ Dean and forever tags are open! ~

Your eyes slowly open as you hear the clunk of crockery being placed on your bedside table. You’re already alerted. It couldn’t be Dean. He never wakes up before you.

“Morning Sweetheart,” he cooed, his voice higher pitched than normal, “Don’t get up so fast! No rushing around for you today.” You narrow your eyes. He was chirpy. Too chirpy. You take a sip of your fresh coffee and sigh in content as the caffeine rushes to wake you. Then you turn back to the Winchester.

“What?” you smirk, “You’re saying you remembered this year?” Dean chokes on his words for a moment, “W-what? Is that what you really think of me?”

You lean back into your pillow with a chuckle. “Well I’m just going off your track record babe,” you wink, “Three years and you still haven’t remembered it.”

“Well I have this year!” his eyes are wide, his voice lacking the confidence he likely intended, “I-I got loads of stuff planned!”

“Hop to it then,” you fold your arms and blow him a kiss.

He quickly turned on his heels and practically ran through the door. You rolled your eyes, taking another sip. It honestly didn’t bother you when Dean forgot your birthday, it was lucky if he remembered anyones with all the stuff on their plates. You had to tease him though, it was just the right thing to do.

After finishing your morning pick me up you made yourself decent, swapping one of Dean’s old flannels for a black tee and skinny jeans. You grabbed your tattered old boots, your favorites. Boy, they had been through the wars though. The black leather was so scraped and battered it barely resembled leather anymore. The laces are torn and frayed. Rare a day went past that you didn’t wear them, but today marked one of those occasions. As you shoved your foot in, there was a loud rip sound and the leather finally gave way. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you whined, holding the boot on your foot with your toes poking out of the end. You take a moment, removing the boot and sitting helplessly, holding the limp scrap piece of animal hide in mourning. You begrudgingly settle for your Y/F/C converse. A trusty backup, but they could never be compared to the hard kick of a boot.

Finishing the last few lukewarm sips of your coffee, you venture out of your and Dean’s room. You drag your feet along the floor, they felt so light and almost naked without your trusty boots. They were expensive too...gonna be a while until you can replace them. Arriving in the main room, you spot Sam and Cas at the table waiting for you with big smiles.

“Y/N!” Sam cheers, coming to you with open arms. He wraps them around you like you’re being hugged by a huge cuddly yeti, “Happy birthday!” “Thanks,” you blush at the attention.

Cas follows suit, gripping you in a tight hug. When he eventually releases you, you spot two parcels wrapped on the table.

“Thank you guys,” you smile sweetly, trying to hide your schoolgirl giddiness at presents.

“This is from me,” Cas picks up the smaller parcel of the two packages and passes it to you, “I...uh...wasn’t sure what to get. This came highly recommended.” You rip off the plain paper to reveal a jar. The contents inside were black and a large sticker plastered on the front said, Yankee Candle, then a big picture of a night’s sky with a full moon, underneath that it read, Midsummer’s Night. “A Yankee candle!” you cheer, genuinely surprised.

“Scented candles can induce a state of relaxation,” Cas expanded, “I feel this could help you relax when you return from a hunt.”

“That’s really sweet,” you smile at the angel, “Thank you Castiel.”

The angel smiles, shuffling his feet. Sam now thrusts the second parcel towards you, a big square one.

“I hope you like it,” he smiles genuinely. “Let’s see!” you beam, tearing into your second gift.

Your ripping reveals a huge leather-bound book with silver gilded pages. The words The Complete Fiction of HP Lovecraft are beautifully designed on the cover. You take a moment to stare, somewhat dumbfounded.

“Wow…” you mumble, flicking through the silver pages.

“You seem to like your horror stories,” Sam shrugged, “So I thought I’d load you up with some classics.” “This is amazing Sammy,” you close the book and turn to him with a smile, “Thank you so much.”

“Your welcome,” he nods, clearly happy with the reception to his gift, “You want a coffee?” “Dean already made me one,” you reply, “But one more wouldn’t go amiss.” “On it,” he gets to his feet and heads for the kitchen. “Where is Dean anyway?” you shout after him, “I thought he was in here with you guys?”

“He...uh...nipped out,” came your answer from the kitchen. “He really did forget didn’t he?” you turn your gaze to Cas. Who gave you sympathetic nod in reply. You fold your arms, you felt very happy and loved looking at the gifts before you. But it didn’t do much to hide the sting you felt towards Dean. If Sam and Cas can remember, why couldn’t he? Hell, why didn’t they remind him? They must have said something this morning for him to grovel with coffee and then run out. Now you felt guilty. Gifts are just materialistic at the end of the day. He brought you coffee in bed, that was sweet of him. You just wanted some time with him. You and Dean. Just having him in your life was all that mattered really.

When Sam returned with a fresh mug of coffee, a crash came from the bunker’s metal door. Dean came in, scurrying down the stairs with what appeared to be some fast food bags.

“Breakfast!” he announced, dropping the bags on the table, “The fast and greasy kind.” “Great,” Sam grimaced at the bags.

“Fine by me!” you cheer, grabbing one of the bags and claiming one of the sausage and egg muffins.

“A little special something for you too Sweetheart,” shoving a small bundle towards you. Something clearly bought with haste, wrapped in a brown paper bag, “Your favorite.” You narrow your eyes and unravel the bag, delving inside to reveal a packet of Twizzlers.

“Um…” you raise an eyebrow, “It’s...Red Vines that are my favorites…” “Oh…” Dean’s shoulders slump in defeat, “I thought you hated Red Vines…”

“Nope, its Twizzlers I hate…” you smile at him sympathetically, his face looked broken and that broke your heart, “Look. Don’t worry about it. You’re here and I just wanna spend the day with you, that’s all that matters.”

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“You’re taking me to the mall?” you questioned as he pulled the Impala into the carpark, “Dean, you know I hate shopping.”

“One of the things I adore you for,” Dean chuckles as he parks up and shuts the engine off, “‘cause I hate shopping too.” He leans to you and plants a quick peck on your forehead, you giggle and shove him away playfully.

“Then why are we here?” “You’re gonna pick something out. Anything you want. Then I’ll get it for you!”

“Dean, really, it doesn’t matter, can’t we just hang out together or something?” “It does matter! To me anyway. I’m not having my little brother win the best present award.”

“You’re an idiot Dean Winchester.” “Your adorable idiot. Now c’mon, most chicks would love their guy to give them free reign in the mall. Go!”

You sigh. Dragging yourself out of the car. You hated the mall. Too many people. Too much stuff. It was all very OTT to you. You aimlessly wandered, hands locked with Dean’s. He made you stop at clothing stores. Nothing interested you. You gave up on the luxury of fancy clothes when it dawned on you that they only get ruined when hunting. You had a small selection of nicer clothes for going out and such, but you mainly went to dive bars so was wary of being overdressed for that setting.  He tried you with jewelry stores, you scoffed. You rolled your eyes at the perfume boutique. Dean shook his head at you when you wanted to look in the bookstore, making some comment along the lines of “Sammy already checked that box”. Time passed, no success. Dean looked heartbroken that his plan wasn’t working. While doing a second lap of the mall something suddenly caught your eye. A small stand in the center of the walkway selling necklaces. Nothing fancy, just small metal pieces attached to a piece of black thread. “I like this…” you mumble, picking one out. It was simple, but that’s what drew you to it. A small metallic heart. “That?” Dean scoffed, “It’s like something a crappy teenage boyfriend would buy.” “It’s cute!” you protest, “I like it…”

“Then it’s yours I guess…” Dean shoved a hand into his pocket, grabbing some change and handing it to the vendor. You throw the necklace over your head and smile looking down at the little heart sitting on your chest.

“Thank you,” you stand on your tiptoes to reach up to him and have your lips find his. He reciprocates but gives a deep sigh when you break apart.

“C’mon, let’s get some food or something,” you take his hand and smile cheerfully.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Your second fast food dish of the day. Burgers. You giggled when Dean’s eye lit up at the thought, especially when you suggested the possibility of pie for dessert. You were halfway through your burger, sat in the mall’s food court when Dean had finished his. “It’s like you’ve never been fed,” you chuckle as Dean sits back in the chair in undeniable food comfort. “Nah, you just eat horrifically slowly,” he joked, “Actually...um...do you mind if I just run off for a sec? I need to grab something while I’m here.”

“Oh…” you tilt your head in curiosity, “What is it?”

“Nothing major, just wanna stock up on some supplies we’re low on, I won’t be long.” “Okay, don’t leave me alone here forever or I might kill someone.” “Noted.”

He gives you a wink, before getting to his feet and taking off. You enjoy the view as he leaves, embracing the knowledge that you know what hides beneath them baggy jeans. You turn your attention back to your burger when he’s out of sight. Readying a huge bite when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Hey Y/N, hope you’re having a good day. Just letting you know me and Cas are heading out. So...if you wanna get anything out of your system, please do it now so I haven’t gotta listen to it later? Sam.

“Jerk,” you mutter, shaking your head with a laugh and not even dignifying the text with a response. Part of you wanted to hold out until later now just to make Sam suffer for that text. The temptation of an empty bunker though...

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 

“About time!” you shout when Dean finally reappears. “Sorry, I dropped the stuff off at the car first,” he panted, seems like he’d rushed his way back over here, “So what d’ya wanna do now?” “Well... a little bird told me that the bunker currently lies unoccupied,” you whisper, eyes darkening.

“Oh yeah?” he grins, pulling you to your feet and into his embrace. His arms wrapped around your hips and hands grabbing your ass.

“Public place Dean,” you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Like I give a damn.”

“Why don’t we head on back, stick some Netflix on and just….chill?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

You giggle and shove him back before grabbing his hand and hastily jogging back to the Impala.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You crash through your bedroom door, Dean holding you up on his hips. Your legs wrap around him tightly while your lips continue to crash and collide with each other. He drops you on the bed, making you squeal at the sudden drop in altitude. Looking up at him, you can see he’s already removing his shirt. You fold your arms behind your head. “Enjoying the show?” he teases. “Damn right I am,” you smirk. He unbuckles his belt, the jingling of the metal echoing and bouncing off the walls, “Do I not get a show?” “Maybe. It’s my birthday after all though,” you stick out your tongue, “Why don’t you take them off for me?” Dean didn’t need telling twice. He straddles you on the bed, his belt and jeans left hanging open invitingly. He pulls you up to a sitting position, grabbing the bottom of your t-shirt and bringing it up and over your head. The cold air of the bunker hitting your skin makes goosebumps rise up. His arms wrap around you as he moves to unclasp your bra, bringing much-appreciated warmth with them. You knew you wouldn’t be cold for long however. He lays you back down after freeing your breasts from the bras confinement. Kissing you again, his tongue grazing your lips in an ask for entrance. You welcome it, gasping as he simultaneously thumbs one of your hard nipples. Your hand rakes up the back of his dirty blonde hair, clutching at a clump of it. You sigh deeply as you feel your body starts to come alive. Every sense became heightened and you could already feel your head starting to become light. He parts his lips from yours, moving them to your other nipple, twirling his tongue around it before sucking hungrily. You feel your core tremble with pleasure, no doubt soaking your pants.

“Dean…” you gas with a smile, “What about the rest of my show?”

He looks up at you, his green eyes darkening lustfully. “You’ll be patient that’s what,” he jokes, sliding down to your jeans and unbuttoning them. You raise your hips, allowing him to pull them down and off of you. You squeal again with laughter when he hastily grabs your ankles and pulls you down the edge of the bed. He kneels down, throwing your legs over his shoulders. “Oh god…” you sigh, feeling his hot breath over your entrance. He runs a finger down your slit, sending small jolts of electricity through you. You buck slightly at the sensation, and you hear him hum happily at his teasing. He strokes your clit, going in little circles which makes your start and writhe and clench at the sheets. You feel his fingers start to open you up, and his warm tongue enters slowly. He starts with small simple strokes, then starts to build up the pace. Twisting and turning so he brushes every angle of your walls. You can’t suppress your moans, impossible with Dean’s tongue taking you on a pleasurable ride to bliss. He moves his tongue to your clit, flicking, twirling and sucking. He brings two fingers inside of you, curving them to reach your g-spot and rub against it perfectly and forcefully. “Fuck…” you groan, clenching your eyes shut and trying to suppress your gasping. “Come for me baby,” he mumbles, his voice low. The words alone drive you crazy as you feel your coil tightening. “I’m so close,” you gasp again, your legs involuntarily twitching on his shoulders as you can feel any sense of control starting to leave you. He quickens the pace, taking you over the edge. You cry out his name as you come, he laps you up, tongue back inside you which keeps you going for even longer. “Fuck…” you gasp as you start to come back down, but you were far from done yet, “Dean...I…” You don’t need to finish your sentence as Dean was already throwing his jeans to the floor. His cock standing hard and ready for you. With a low grunt, he climbs back on you, trailing kisses all up your body until you are face to face. Your tongues meet once more as you scratch your nails down his back making him growl in want. You reach a hand down and start massaging his tip, spreading the pre-cum around the head and line him up with you. He clenches his jaw while he slowly eases in. You arch your back so he can go deeper, moaning as he stretches you and you adjust to him. He kisses your neck while he starts to pull back and harshly thrust back in again. You cry out, throwing your head back on the pillow while he continues to do this, gradually building up momentum. “Ugh,” he grunts, sending new tingles down your spine as he starts to pant and get into rhythm. You start bucking your hips, every thrust in filling you as you tighten yourself around him. You reach up and start to kiss his neck, making him grunt again at the new sensation. A harsh breath escapes him, you find yourself crashing back down to the pillow as Dean grabs your wrists and pins you down with one hand, the other going back to clit. You clench at the bed frame unable to keep your breathing steady as Dean starts to fuck you hard, whilst thumbing away at your clit. “Oh god,” you whine, feeling your coil begin to tighten once again. “F-fuck,” Dean hisses through clenched teeth, before burying his head into your shoulder as his thrusts started to lose rhythm and become erratic.    You can feel his hot breath coating your skin as he heavily pants while he gets closer. You can feel your body start to shake as he hurls you over the edge for the second time. Vision going white, you can barely hear your moans through the pleasure. “UGH!” Dean moans, hard thrusting into you one more time and holding himself there while you feel his come coating all inside you.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 

“Well…we didn’t even get around to putting Netflix on,” you giggle. Both of you still laid in bed recovering. Dean had an arm wrapped around your shoulders while you rested your head on his chest. “Who needs Netflix when you just want the chill?” he smirks, “I need to get up…” He starts to shuffle, and move, making you whine, “Really? Why?” “Just give me a minute,” he gives you a wink before throwing on some boxers and his long grey robe, “Don’t go anywhere.” “Trust I’m not moving anytime soon,” you laugh in reply as he leaves. You grab your laptop, logging onto Netflix and readying the next episode of Stranger Things for his return. This was all you wanted. Just you and Dean to have the day to yourselves and hang out. The cute little necklace around your neck was a bonus, but you needed nothing more. “Hey,” Dean smiles on re-entering, a large bag in his hand, “Here.” He drops the bag on the bed before you. You sit up, raising an eyebrow in suspicion as you look at the shoe shop brand printed on the side. “The hell is this?” you ask, glaring at the Winchester. “I may have lied earlier when I said I was just going for some supplies,” he explained, “But...I couldn’t help but notice your favorite boots were completely destroyed so….” “No way…” you mumble, wide-eyed removing a large box from inside the bag. “So I figured you needed some replacements…” he sits himself down next to you. Opening the box, the most beautiful pair of boots you’d ever seen sat before you. Polished black leather, sturdy metal buckles, the toes even seemed to be steel capped to add an extra bite to any kick. “Dean they’re perfect…” you whisper, almost welling up. “They’re just boots,” he shrugs. “Yeah but…” you wipe your eyes, trying to avoid getting too emotional, “Well...they’re better than a damn packet of Twizzlers!” “Better than a crappy book and a smelly candle I think,” he jokes.

You elbow him in the ribs playfully before pulling him down into a deep kiss. “Did I do good?” he asks with a wink, “Did I win the best present award?” You laugh ridiculously before looking him deep into those green eyes, “God damn, I love you, Dean Winchester.”

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