One-shot based off of this imagine from supernaturalimagines:

"Imagine that everyone is born with the name of their soulmate written on their skin, and when supernatural things start happening to you, you finally meet YOUR soulmate, a man named Dean Winchester."

Can also be found on my Tumblr: deans-inferno

I accept requests there!

R&R - Might be posting a sequel, let me know suggestions.

'Stupidity'

You weren't really the kind of person to believe in magic. Nothing in your life, save for the miracle of having survived high school, was anything above the ordinary. But one day, as you sorted your clothes at the local laundromat, your perspective on all things fantastical was forced to dramatically shift.

"Shit," you muttered. "Coins." You'd forgotten them. Again. Why was it that you were the most forgetful and clumsy person on the planet?

"I can help you there," a low voice announced. You turned around and came face to face with a short man, decked out in a black suit and a charming smirk to match.

"Oh," you blinked, confused as to what exactly this person was doing in your small town. "Thanks." You accepted the offered coins, holding out your hand to catch them as he dropped them into your hands.

As you clenched your fingers around them, the man's hand shot out, gripping your arm and twisting it to reveal the writing etched onto your skin.

It had been there since birth, much like everyone else, and bore a name; the name of your soulmate. Most of your friends had found there's, had made it their mission to seek out the person they were destined to spend their life and share a profound bond with. You, however, were an anomaly. The name on your wrist was often winking in and out of existence, sometimes clear as a bell, sometimes invisible, sometimes so weak you could only see the writing in certain a light. It made you nervous, not knowing exactly what was different about you or your soulmate. The soulmate system was supposed to tell you who your fate was entwined with – without that, you felt lost.

In order to assist in finding your soulmate, the markings on your arm glowed and became warm the closer you were to them. Most people waited to feel that, to sense them near because they were already on a predestined path to find them. But yours was different still. Every now and then you would feel the writing heat up, emitting a soft glow to let you know he was near. Your heart would beat faster, your eyes would frantically search around you. But all too soon, it would dim and you would be left alone and embarrassed that you had fallen for it again.

After a while, you came to the conclusion that this person either didn't want to find you, or was traveling the country, a lot, sometimes passing you by. You chose to believe the latter.

"Dean Winchester," the man read from your arm, a satisfied smile on his face. "Bad luck for you, excellent for me."

"What-"but the world went black.

You came to in the middle of an abandoned warehouse, tied to a chair and facing the very same man who'd given you change for laundry.

"Glad to see you've finally joined us," the man greeted, comfortably pacing in front of you. His dark eyes watched you struggle against the bindings and scan the room with panic stricken eyes.

"Where am I?" You finally found your voice.

He ignored your question, focusing instead on your arm, the very one that he'd gripped to tightly earlier. "Soulmates. Funny concept isn't it? To be bound to someone for life? Bit limiting in my opinion."

You weren't sure what exactly he was getting at, or why your particular soulmate had anything to do with this situation. All you knew was that you were in big trouble. You heart raced and sweat beaded on your forehead. "Let me go," you pleaded. "I'll give you anything you want."

He laughed at you. "Oh darling, you're going to do that anyway. In fact, you're doing it right now." He pointed towards your arm.

You glanced down, now noticing the slight glow that the writing was emitting and the warmth that spread from your wrist. Not again. Not now. You silently wished that he wouldn't find you, that this Dean person would stay away from this man. Clearly he was dangerous – what if Dean got hurt? What if he was killed, all because of you?

"No, no, no," you chanted, willing the glow to fade. But it only grew, burning brighter than it ever had before. Never in a million years did she imagine anything like this could happen.

"Crowley!" A voice shouted from behind you. "Let her go! She's not part of this, she never has been."

The man before you, Crowley, smiled triumphantly, watching the person behind you with interest and a little bit of caution. You desperately wanted to turn around, the warmth in your arm was verging on painful and you just knew it was him. You could feel his presence burning brightly.

"You know what I want, Dean," Crowley told the man behind you. You strained your neck to try and see him, but all you succeeded in doing was hurting yourself and cause Crowley to smirk at your struggle. "The girl for the First Blade. Simple trade, man to man."

You couldn't hear anything from behind you, but you could sense the struggle to make a decision. You had no clue what on earth was going on, but you didn't care at that point. He was here, right behind you. After all this time, all this waiting and worry, he was here.

"Dean?" You asked, your voice cracking slightly. "Dean, is that you?"

He didn't answer, and your heart dropped a little. What if he didn't want you? What if he was one of those rare few that refused to give in to the inexorable pull of the soulmate?

"Yeah," he finally told you. "Yeah, it's me." He sounded immeasurably sad, like he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. You could only imagine the look on his face.

Crowley watched the exchange, his eyes flitting between you and Dean. "How lovely," he smiled. "Now Dean, you knew you couldn't keep her protected forever. This way, you get to keep your soulmate and I'll even make you a deal not to touch her again. Just give me the blade."

Dean was silent for so long you started to think he may have left. You fidgeted in the seat, testing the strength of the binding that held you. You tried to hold together your fear, keep the shaking out of your body and stop the tears that built up in your eyes at the situation, but as Dean kept silent, you couldn't help them fall. You could feel the evil coming off Crowley in waves, knew that if you were left with him you would be in serious danger. Doubt crept into your mind.

"Fine," Dean said finally, cutting through the silence. Relief swept through you in a wave of emotion, you slumped in the chair and a sob left your mouth.

Crowley smiled. "Excellent."

"Here," Dean threw something over your head, wrapped in a bundle, and Crowley caught it dexterously.

After confirming what was in the bundle with a satisfied nod of his head, he looked up. "Nice doing business, as always." With that, he promptly disappeared. You couldn't help the gasp that escaped your lips.

"I'm so sorry," came Dean's agonsed voice from behind. You felt a strong, warm hand hold your arm through your jacket, heard a metallic swipe and the rope fell away.

Dean finally walked into your field of vision and you drank him in like you were seeing the sun for the first time. He was tall, ruggedly handsome and everything you dreamed he would be. You both locked eyes, watching each other intensely without saying a word. He knelt down to your level, his hands raised.

As soon as his fingers touched your face to cup your cheeks in his palms, the whole world shifted. No longer were you the lonely girl, independent and shy; you now consisted of two parts. Your heart felt like it reached out and encompassed him now, he was you and you were him. The glow on your arm, visible through your jacket, was mirrored by the glow coming from his. As he leaned towards you, you knew that this was the only thing in your life that felt truly right.

His lips grazed yours, gently offering their comfort to which you returned gratefully. It was sweet, agonizingly so, and felt absolutely incredible Your arm burnt painfully, but you didn't care. It only meant that this was meant to happen.

After an eternity, Dean pulled back. You were flushed, and your smile threatened to break your face.

"Hey," Dean said quietly.

"Hey," you replied, reaching up and boldly gripping his neck to bring him in for another kiss. This one was more passionate, verging on desperate as you yearned to make up for the years of separation and loneliness.

"What took you so long?" You whispered to him, your forehead pressed against his, eyes closed.

"Stupidity," he replied without hesitation.