taking it down
pairing: dean winchester x black!fem reader word count: ~ about 750 warnings: soft intimacy, hair care, gentle touching, established relationship vibes, domestic fluff, black reader (hair representation) a/n: this is so soft, thank you for the request!! — @marimomozo 🫶
The bunker was quiet when Dean pushed the door open, boots heavy against the floor, the familiar creak echoing down the hall.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he started, shrugging off his jacket
And then he stopped.
“…Huh.”
You were curled up on the couch, TV playing low in the background, legs tucked under you. Your hands were in your hair, carefully working through one of your braids, unraveling it piece by piece.
You glanced up, already smiling a little. “You just gonna stand there or?”
“I...” he huffed a quiet laugh, stepping further into the room. “I’ve just… never seen you do that before.”
“Take my hair down?” you teased.
“Yeah,” he said, slower this time, eyes still on you. “It’s… kinda amazing.”
You rolled your eyes, but there was warmth behind it. “It’s a process, trust me. These took hours to put in.”
He moved closer without really thinking about it, drawn in. “Looks like it,” he muttered, crouching slightly beside the couch.
His gaze followed your fingers, the careful way you unraveled each section.
There was something about it, something quiet, something beautiful.
“…Can I?” he asked suddenly.
You paused, raising a brow. “Can you what?”
“Help,” he said, a little more tentative now. “I mean, if that’s okay. I don’t wanna mess it up or anything.”
You studied him for a second, then smiled softly, a little amused.
“Alright,” you said, shifting so there was space beside you. “But you gotta listen. You can’t just go pulling stuff.”
Dean held his hands up. “Hey, I can follow instructions.”
“I guess we'll find out,” you shot back, but you were already pulling him closer.
He sat down behind you, surprisingly careful, like he was afraid of doing something wrong.
“Okay,” you said, picking up one braid and placing it gently in his hands. “First, you find where it’s secured at the end, and there’s a little knot
Dean leaned in, brow furrowed in concentration. “Alright… I see it.”
“Good. Now loosen it. Gently, just give it a little twist.”
His fingers moved slower than you’d ever seen them, no rush, no impatience. Just careful, soft movements as he worked the end free.
"This right?” he asked.
You nodded. “Yeah. Now you just start unraveling. Don’t pull, just let it come apart.”
He followed your lead, fingers brushing against yours every now and then.
"This is kinda relaxing,” he admitted after a moment.
You laughed softly.
He glanced at you, then back at your hair, a small smile working its way onto his face. “It’s nice. Makes me feel like I'm important.”
Your expression softened at that.
“You are,” you said quietly.
He didn’t say anything for a second, just kept working. The braid loosened under his hand.
“It’s really pretty,” he said, almost under his breath.
You stilled slightly. “My hair?”
“Yeah,” he said, like it was obvious. “All of it. When it's in braids, his fingers gently separated a section, careful not to tug “like this too.”
There was no teasing in his voice. No jokes.
Just honesty.
You looked at him, really looked at him, and something warm settled in your chest.
“Thanks, Dean.”
He shrugged, a little bashful now. “Just telling the truth.”
You nudged his shoulder lightly. “Keep going, Winchester. You’ve got a whole head of hair to get through.”
He smirked, focusing on the braid in his hands. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t rush me.”
But he leaned in closer anyway, settling closer behind you so your back could rest against his legs as not to strain yourself.
And for once, neither of you were in any hurry to be anywhere else.
