An Au!Dean Winchester x reader story
Summary: To escape her mundane life at home, you decide you need an out. Out of the city life, out of Europe, you needed an out from your hopeless romantic dreams of love.
America seemed like that out, which is why without much thinking, you decided to take a position as a seasonal ranch hand by the Winchester Ranch you’ve found online.
Now you’re in North Carolina, and can’t help but fall in love again.
But how are you suppose to resist those green eyes?
Paring: Au!Dean Wincheter x Mid-sized!Reader
Loving is easy; it flows like a calm, lazy river, natural, steady, and endless.
Finding love is the hard thing. It’s white water, aggressive waves clashing against each other and parting again.
It can excite you, make you reach new heights you never thought you’d reach in your life. But if you’re not careful, it’ll rip you down and drown you.
Love is something you think about often and follows you everywhere you look. The man at the bar with the nice smile, who was not directed at you, but at the tall brunette behind you, the friend of a friend, who shut you down because you are pretty, but not actually his type. And worst, the countless jerks on dating apps. It is sad to say, but you need both hands to count how many men ghosted you, even though a time and place were planned for the date that should have been the following Saturday.
It consumes you, swallows you whole, and doesn’t let you out of its fangs, not caring about how many tears you shed.
It doesn’t help that all your friends are in a relationship. Of course, you are so happy for them, happy to see that they are loved and loved right.
Your best friend being kissed on her forehead by her boyfriend of four years, that other friend, who was single and on the man hunt with you now having found the perfect fit.
And all you can think about is,
When does my time finally come?
But am I attention-grabbing?
Are my friends lying to me when they tell me I look good?
And at some point, those thoughts trap you in a cellar. Cold, a light foul smell, trying to reach for light.
It was just too much for you.
You needed to think about something other than men. Something else about love, although you are a hopeless romantic.
This is why now you’re wrapped in your mother’s arms, sobbing at the airport.
“Are you sure, my love? Are you sure that this is what you need?”
A laugh fights through your tears.
“Yes!” She interrupts you. “You’ve always had to go on adventures. But- but you’ve always been within reach- neighbouring countries. Baby, this is America, it’s so many kilometers away I- I won’t be seeing you for a year-“
There is no chance you are going to stop your mother’s rant, so you let her; she is losing her light today, too.
“And you’re helping out at some ranch! Can’t you finish college first? I mean, you’re twenty-three and-“
You cup her face; it is an unusual sight to see her so puzzled. Usually, she is your rock, your guiding wisp. “Mama…I’ll be fine.”
Warm hands shield you, like castle walls of love.
“Don’t forget to call me?”
Your throat stings a bit, voice shaking.
Finally, you’re able to pull yourself away from your mother and move on to your dad.
He hugs you tighter, bone-crushing.
You’ve never heard his voice crack like this before as he kisses your cheek.
Walking away from them feels like leaving behind a childhood home, and in some way, it does.
You turn around to look at the tiny figures of your parents. Of course, your dad has to have the last word.
“Just promise to come back.”
Of course, you’ll come back- the trip is planned for a year, and the return flight wasn’t cheap.
You land in North Carolina around three pm. Sleeping on the plane wasn’t an option; excitement kept you up the entire flight.
This is going to be your fresh breath of life.
Well, it doesn’t feel like a fresh breather yet, but more like a kick in the head and queasiness in your stomach.
You knew you shouldn’t have eaten that weird-looking Mac n’ cheese on the plane.
But awakens, finds you again quickly, as you see a tall man in a cowboy hat and boots, leaning against a wall at arrivals, holding up a sign with your name written on it.
His hair is a bit longer and brown, his jeans well-worn and fitting him perfectly
Slight nervousness tugs your heart as your feet drag towards the floppy-haired guy.
As soon as he sees you, his smile spreads, standing up straighter.
Walking towards someone you don’t know but are supposed to meet always feels weird. You have no idea what expression to make, where actually to look-
But that wasn’t a problem for long, since giant over there meets you halfway with long strides.
God, a step of his would be three of yours.
He simply says, with a smooth voice and that guy-next-door charm.
A month ago, you would have had shaking knees, hoping this one might be your potential boyfriend. A love story so heartwarming Nicolas Sparks could have written it.
Today, you know he won’t be interested anyway.
“You must be our new seasonal ranch hand- I’m Sam.”
Without hesitation, you shake his outstretched hand. “Yeah, that’s me.”
You smile, “Thank you for picking me up! You really didn’t have to, I could have taken a bus-“
A snort, ironic, cutting your word flow.
“The bus? Sweetheart, we ain’t in Europe anymore. There is no bus driving to Winchester Ranch.”
You hadn’t thought of that.
Public transport is basically your lifeline. It’s not the most reliable, sure. And you do have your license, but during rush hour, it is always much nicer to just sit in the subway and use some more precious minutes to listen to music than to lose your nerve over people who shouldn’t have gotten their license in the first place.
You say, you should have known that, of course, in the middle of nowhere, there is no public transportation.
Sam tilts his head, letting go of your hand. “But you have a pretty strong grip for city folks.”
Swiftly and before you could say anything, he takes your suitcase and rucksack, which seem to shrink on his back.
“Jesus- do you ever let other people help you?” A grin and like that, you follow him out of the airport. Actually grateful that he took your bags because God, are you exhausted from hours of flying.
“Wait?! What did you just say?”
“Two hours is not a quick drive, Sam!”
He laughs again; he can’t mean that.
“Hope you had a toilet break.”
The thought of that alone makes your bladder tingle.
Radio-Head is blasting on the speakers of Sam’s navy ram truck. You fully expected some country tunes to play- but you should know better, just cuz he is a certified Cowboy doesn’t mean that Sam only does cowboy things.
Honestly, you didn’t pay too much attention to the music anyway. Now, did you pick up your phone once, except to tell your friends and family that you survived the flight, your eyes were glued to the passing landscapes outside of the truck's window.
Hills and fields stretching into endlessness, and your eyes feast on them.
At this point, you know this will be a year you won’t ever forget.
Sam pulls you out of your awe just to put you into another.
The Winchester lands reach over 13,000 acres, at least this is what Sam told you via e-mail when you first contacted him about this position.
You couldn’t imagine this massive size until you drove through it.
“Wait? This is all yours?!”
It’s comical, really, but your jaw drops. A land this big is unimaginable for city folk like you- hell, you could only dream about owning a two-bedroom apartment at home.
“Well- technically my dad’s.”
Says Sam with a grin. “But yeah- grew up here, studied law to support the ranch, and I’ll probably die here.”
Something about having a place like that is comforting to you. This isn’t just land, this is home.
And then you see it standing on the peak of a hill.
The ranch house, or more like a ranch mansion.
It’s wooden, rustic, with a wrap-around porch. As Sam drives closer, you can see more details, such as darker wooden pillars and green wooden shutters, making it feel more authentic.
And the jaw is slack again.
“That’s chestnut house, where you’ll be living for the next twelve months.”
At first, you could nod as Sam puts the car into park.
“It’s- it’s huge and- I don’t think I ever saw a prettier house.”
Sam looks at you as if it is the most normal thing on earth.
Flicking your head, he gains back your attention.
“You’re a real dreamer, aren’t you? Gawking ‘round the whole day,”
A blush creeps up your neck. “Well, sorry, but this is all new to me!”
“Don’t you worry your head.” His smile softens, “This place definitely needs more dreamers.”
The inside of the house is just as welcoming as the outside. Dark wooden panels screech underneath your feet.
Sam gives you the grand tour. You pass the big kitchen with an island, the basement (that thing is bigger than your apartment at home and fucking scary- you just know that a spider could wait at the next fucking corner), the ‘pool room’ with the rather off-putting stuffed animals hanging on the wall. It is rather obvious that most people here are men.
But your favorite room is the sunroom right behind the living room—the big windows letting light spread and instantly lifting your mood. From here, you have the perfect view of the endless hills, and you already see yourself sprawled on the couch after a hard day of work, reading a new romance.
However, your room, your sanctuary, is on the second floor, where probably the whole family resides.
The only worker living with the Winchester family.
It’s in the contract: you exchange your labour for a roof over your head, food on your plate, and a small allowance you get each month.
“And this- this is all yours.”
Says Sam with a smile as he opens the heavy wooden door, screeching against the marked floor.
It is bigger than you thought it would be.
A white rug is on the ground, a dresser in the corner, and cream curtains flow inside the room, fresh air coming in from the open window.
In the middle of the room is a wooden queen-sized bed, with a matching bedside table next to it.
It’s perfect, she knows it will feel more like home once she puts some of her own touches here and there.
“Hope ya like pink- Bobby, my uncle- kinda told me you’d appreciate something nice in your room, these are new just for you.”
Turning on your heel, you smile at Sam.
He successfully shuts you up by raising his hand. “We want ya to feel like home, just a little bit cuz you’re away from yours for such a long time. It’s nothing.”
A warm feeling like a hug wraps around you.
“No- it’s everything really. Thank you, Sam. You’re making me feel actually welcome- easing the nerves.”
He puffs out a small breath.
“Well then- mission complete.”
You look at another in silence for a moment, before he snaps out of it and rubs the back of his neck.
“Yeah, right, sorry. Why don’t cha unpack? Get all homey? If you need anything, my room is right across the hall.”
Your head tilts in agreement.
“Sure thing- and thank you, Sam.”
He nods, turning to walk out of the room, but stops at the door frame.
“And don’t ya dare take a nap.” His head turns, a devilish grin on his lips.
“Well, gotta fight the jet lag. So you are not going to bed before nine.”
This is going to be a long ass day.
You didn’t care ‘bout ‘Sam’s orders, the bed was too hard to resist, pink, fresh sheets basically inviting you in after sitting in a plane or truck for Lord knows how long.
Oh, at home you might have taken a nap as well…
Sam has no reason to act all prissy-
Fresh cotton wraps all around you, eyes grow heavy, and breath more even-
A knock yanks you out of your near-sleep; maybe if you ignore it, it’ll go away.
“Hey! Wake up! I know you’re trying to sleep!”
“No?” You say, trying to sound awake, alert.
But Sam isn’t having any of it.
“So if I open the door now-“
“Fine! I’m comin’ I’m comin’”
Sadly, you roll on your back in your save haven. You know you’re pouting, but-
“Come on! I’m gonna show you ‘round the ranch a bit.”
Even though your legs feel like cement sticking to the bed, you get up. Sam is still your employer, and you want to make a good first impression.
Winter still sticks to the spring air. But most of the trees and bushes have grown their green crowns.
It is a beautiful sight, especially the apple orchard.
The scent is flowery fresh- pink petals blowing in the wind.
“It looks like out of a fairytale.”
You can barely keep your eyes from them. Sam made you walk around the ranch, said the fresh air would keep you awake, and opted against the truck.
“Well, I prefer it when it’s time to harvest the actual apples, our honey crisps are out of this world, taste best when you pluck them right from the branch.”
“Shouldn’t you be harvesting them and not eating them?”
He makes a sushing sound with his tongue, tapping your forehead.
“You’ll soon see why it is hard to resist ‘em. Smell alone drives you insane.”
He defends himself, and you slightly rob the spot he just tapped.
“Well, grow over two hundred apple kinds- some cross-breeds and the classics.”
“That many?” You ask surprised
“The only apple kind I know is the Pink Lady.”
“We grow those right over there.”
He says, and, pointing towards the right backside- you couldn’t distinguish them anyway- not yet.
After that, Sam takes you to the stables and livestock. The Winchester ranch, well, ranch and farm has a huge number of livestock, but mostly cattle and horses.
The cows definitely live a good life here- grazing on acres of meadow with fresh grass. The stables are not too small, but Sam explained to you that they prefer the cattle outside rather than cooping them up.
Loud grunts can be heard from outside, kicking and thumping.
Sam sighs, a frown forming on his face as if he knows all too well what is going on.
Without looking back and a clear mission in mind, Sam darts outside, and you follow him like a confused little duckling.
His pace leads you to the pens and-
For a second, your world moves in slow motion.
A man mounts on a brown, bucking bull, one of his hands up high in the air- the other on the saddle so hard, the veins on his arm seem to pop.
Green eyes are focused, sharp, switching between the surroundings and the bull. Beads of sweat pearl down from his forehead.
The force of the bucking rips his black cowboy hat off, thick thighs pressing deeper into the sides of the bull.
It is graceful in a strong, powerful way. Every one of his motions is strong, calculated. Nothing happens by chance; no unnecessary movements.
It is all over a second later as the man jumps off the bull, controlled and sure steps thud on the ground.
Sam reacts instantly, throwing his long legs over the fence to guide the adjacent box.
You don’t notice that, your ears are rushing from excitement.
The man pants, broad shoulders moving up and down.
When those emerald green eyes pierce yours.
“Well, and who ‘ight be that pretty sweetheart over there?”
Just like I promised my flowers….just like I promised!
This is a little inspired by The Longest Ride by Nicolas Sparks-
As said I am desperately in need of Cowboy Dean!!
Your flower in the Valley 🌸
