Preference-A Word to Describe you (Supernatural)

Dean

Dean couldn’t stop grinning. Normally Dean was annoyed when Bobby chose him for gun cleaning duty but he had been more than happy to help when you had been assigned the task. You were both sitting out in the salvage yard. Dean watched as you sang along with the radio, cleaning the pistols and rifles expertly without a second thought. It was supposed to be raining today but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It seemed like no matter what the sun was always shining when you were around. In general, Dean found that everything was always better when you were around. It didn’t matter if it was a hunt, a road trip, or a food run. You just always made everything better. Dean thought you were far better than anything he could ever hope to deserve and he was still confused everyday as to why you had chosen him. He was grateful for whatever it was. It meant that he was able to enjoy moments like this. You looked up at him and gave Dean the smile that was reserved for him. A smile so genuine it physically hurt Dean to look at it. He smiled back, or really just looked back because he hadn’t stopped smiling since he’d returned home to you yesterday. You laughed and went back to work. Dean continued to stare, mesmerized. You were everything he never thought he’d ever get to have. You were happiness.

Sam

Sam shouldn’t be alive. The hunt had took a bad turn and he should be dead. But you were there. Somehow you were in the right place at the right time and Sam was alive. Ever since Sam had met you things always seemed to happen that way. The motel just happened to have one room left and it just happened to be half price. Dean managed to choose the right boxes on his scratch offs to win $500 everytime. The fleeing monster would accidently take a wrong turn that led to a dead end. Nothing bad could happen when you were around. It became statistically impossible. Sam was brought out of his thoughts when you came and sat across his lap. You wrapped your arms him and tucked your head into his neck and closed your eyes. Before long you had drifted off to sleep. He kissed your forehead and smiled. Because of you he was the luckiest man on earth, in every way imaginable. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV to find them showing his favorite movie. He laughed to himself. You really were his lady luck.

Castiel

Cas kept watch as you slept. You both had just finished a hunt that left you exhausted. After you showered you had kissed Cas goodnight and immediately thrown yourself on the lumpy motel bed. You were asleep within seconds. It always surprised Cas how quickly you could fall asleep. Everything about you surprised Cas, really. He couldn’t believe that someone who had been through what you had could manage to stay such a good person. The evidence of your hardships lay all across your sleeping form. You were covered in scars, some old and some fresh. You had bruises all along your knuckles and a few on your ribs. Your bones had been broken numerous times and Cas lost track of how many broken noses he had to heal for you. You’d been to Hell, fought in heaven and ran through purgatory, like the honorary Winchester that you were. You’d seen the worst of humanity, monsters, and heavenly beings (including Castiel himself). Yet somehow through all of that you somehow managed to remain optimistic and happy. You laughed at Dean’s dumb jokes and Sam’s stupid pranks. You tried to see the good in everyone even when there wasn’t a shred of decency in them. No matter what, each day you woke with a smile and told Cas you how much you loved him every night. You rolled over in your sleep and felt around on the bed. When you found his hand you gripped it tight and sighed. Your breathing evened back out and you were fast asleep again. Castiel smiled. You truly were fascinating.

Bonus: Bobby

There was only one thing Bobby could think of to describe you. Trouble. If you weren’t off in some corner making out with Dean you were distracting Sam from his research and work. If Cas was around you ignored all the work Bobby needed you to do to watch cartoons with him instead. You ate all his food, used all his ammo, and refused to help with the dishes. Sure, you helped stop a couple of apocalypses but what did that matter when he couldn’t walk 2 feet in his own house without tripping on one of your bloodied flannels? He could hear you and Dean giggling upstairs. They’re supposed to be translating rituals he thought.  Seconds later something hit the ground and shattered. “That wasn’t me!” you called out. Bobby sighed but couldn’t keep from laughing. What was he gonna do with you?