Supernatural Sister Imagines

Imagine #52: My Girl

Imagine: Dean makes you angry, but sings to you to make you feel better.

Warning: Vulgar language

Age: 15

"You still pissed?"

"The hell do you think?"

"Hey, language."

"Language? Language my ass, don't try to tell me about no damn language." You fumed from where you sat in the passenger's seat, wanting nothing more than to get home and complain to Sam about Dean and his antics. Your arms were crossed tight over your chest and your gaze was hard as you stared out the window, refusing to look to the man to your left.

"Hey, come on now, there's no need for that." Dean said, glancing from the road to you and back a few times.

"There's every damn need. I don't understand why you have to hit on every woman you meet." You hissed through your teeth. Now Dean was annoyed, rolling his eyes.

"Why the hell do you care if I hit on women?" He exclaimed, grip tightening on the steering wheel slightly.

"Maybe because I like to believe that the only girl you need is me!" You snapped, and suddenly the car fell silent, the revving of the engine the only noise to break it. You gave a small sigh.

"Call me selfish, but I like being the only girl you need in your life. I like feeling special. And when you bring women home to the bunker, or even worse, go home with them, I feel like you don't need me." You went on, your voice becoming less angry and more sad until you quieted and instead focused on the edge of the pavement flying by outside your window.

Everything was still for a moment as Dean contemplated your words. You wondered what he what say, wondered if he'd tell you how much you were overreacting, but instead he reached forward and messed around on the radio, flipping through the tracks on a cd before stopping on one and pressing play.

And instantly you were biting back a smile as you listened to the intro of the song. The snapping of fingers and the telltale guitar riff identified the song all but instantaneously, and before you knew it Dean was glancing at you with the most knowing of smirks. All you could do was roll your eyes and shake your head as he began to sing to you.

"I got sunshine, on a cloudy day." He sang, leaning toward you with a smile on his face, "Come on baby, you know the words."

"It ain't gonna work, Dean." You protested half-heartedly, your attempts to bite back a smile beginning to falter. Dean ignored you and simply continued.

"When it's cold outside, I got the month of May." He sang, his voice like velvet. He knew he was slowly winning you over, it was only a matter of time before you cracked.

"I guess, you'd say." He looked to you expectantly, "What can make me feel this way?"

And in an instant you cracked, a smile lighting your face as you cranked up the volume and sang along.

"My girl," You sang, your voice blending perfectly with his, "Talkin' bout my girl."

The second verse began and Dean turned down the volume until it was all but silent and reached across the seat, grabbing your arm and dragging you toward him. You slid across and nestled under his arm, his cheek resting atop your head and his free hand holding the wheel.

"I don't want you to ever think that some woman I bring home will ever mean to me as much as you do." He spoke firmly, and passionately, "In fact, I don't think I want to bring women home anymore."

"Why not?" You asked quietly, resting your head on him.

"Well, one, I'm getting old." Your pursed your lips at that, shaking your head slightly, "And B, I can't have any of these one night women getting in the way of you and me."

"You shouldn't have to do that for me," You said, suddenly feeling guilty, "You deserve to be happy."

Dean chuckled then, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your head, "Baby, I am happy, so long as I have you and Sam."

"That was unbelievably cheesy." You stated through a smile, your eyes falling shut as you snuggled closer to your brother. He hummed and squeezed you tighter.

"You love cheesy."