Unexpected Valentine
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 984
Summary: You’re getting ready to spend Valentine’s Day alone when fate has other plans.
Warnings/Tags: fluff, pining, swearing.
Author’s Note: This is my first ever fic and it’s for the Supernatural Valentine’s Day Writing Challenge posted by @abislonelyinchicago
🧡General prompt: a romantic candlelit dinner
🧡Dialogue prompt: “Fuck Valentine’s Day!”
🧡Color mentioned: white & red
Masterlist
“Fuck Valentine’s Day!” You mutter under your breath while aggressively mashing potatoes. Just because you were single and going to be alone in the bunker didn’t mean you weren’t going to have an amazing steak dinner while watching a movie in the Dean Cave. You can show yourself a nice evening… don’t need a stupid man for that.
But you wish the stupid man getting ready to go out and celebrate “Unattached Drifter Christmas” would stay in tonight with you. You’d been carrying a torch for that hot dork for nearly 6 months. Tried to bribe him with a steak dinner and letting him pick the movie but apparently a random bar girl sounds like a better time. You channel the sting of that thought into more potato murder - at this point it’s going to be a puree.
“Woah! What did those spuds do to you?” Dean chuckles as he enters the kitchen.
You shoot him a side eye and a small grin. “They looked at me wrong.”
“Damn, remind me to not do that. Hey, you sure you don’t want to come out tonight?”
“I’m sure, De. I don’t do hookups and with you off doing your thing, I’ll be alone anyways. I’d rather stay in and treat myself.”
You caught Dean’s expression momentarily before he slipped his neutral face on. Was that a look of pity? Ugh… gross.
“Besides,” you continued, “Johnny Walker here will keep me company.” You pulled the bottle out to show Dean, it was another move you planned to pull if he had stayed in with you. You knew his weakness for blue label.
His eyes widened and jaw slacked a little, like a sad, hungry puppy looking at a slab of meat. His head tilted and lips quivered a bit when he asked, “S-Since when do you uh… drink whiskey, sweetheart?”
“Well, when I thought you might be staying in tonight, I got it to share. But since you’ll be at the bar buying your own drinks, this baby is all for me. Like I said, treating myself.”
Dean was still staring somewhat longingly at the bottle, and you had a steak to eat and movie to start. You gently started to push him out of the kitchen. “Ok, Casanova. Be safe out there. I’ll hold down the fort.”
“Well, don’t drink it all! You’ll get sick or fall down or something. Best to save some for later.” Yeah yeah.. he means save some for him. Which of course you will because it will make Dean happy and your heart does stupid little flips when you make him smile.
Suddenly, you’re in total darkness. The sound of a giant machine starting up hums to life and red lights turn on overhead.
“You gotta be kidding me!” Dean huffs.
“What the hell is happening?”
“Bunker lost power. Which means it’s also on lockdown.” He starts towards the main grid control and you’re practically jogging to keep up with Dean’s stride. He presses the reset button and… nothing happens. “Damnit! There must be a major power outage. Looks like we’re stuck.”
Deans expression tells you he’s disappointed and you have trouble hiding the twinge of bitterness in your voice.
“Yeah.. looks like you’re stuck with me tonight. Sorry your favorite holiday is ruined.”
“That’s not…” he starts but you’ve already started back towards the kitchen. When he finds you again you’re dishing up two plates of steak, mashed potatoes, and roasted carrots. “We have to split the steak, but there’s enough potatoes and carrots to go around.” As you’re setting the plates on the table, Dean runs off and returns with a few white candles and places them on the table before lighting them.
“Can’t have Valentine’s dinner without candlelight.” His wink and crooked grin aimed at you, making you grateful for the red overhead light hiding your burning cheeks.
“Dean Winchester, the romantic?” Your hand clutches invisible pearls in feigned surprise. “Well don’t I feel special?”
“You should, you are special.” His soft tone catching you off guard. “And I can be romantic as hell!” He retorts with mock offense.
Truth is, he’s known you’re special. Dean sees you gave him the bigger portion of steak. Something about it makes his heart ache a little bit. He notices a lot of little things you do. Like how you keep his favorite beer stocked, make a fresh pie when they return from a hunt, or buy his favorite whiskey like tonight. You’re thoughtful as hell, it’s one of the things he lo… likes… about you.
After dinner, you invite him to your room to watch a movie on Sam’s laptop. Keeping true to your word and letting him pick which one. While he queues it up, you pour two glasses of the Johnny Walker. Dean makes himself at home lying on your bed propped up on the headboard. With an internal “fuck it”, you cuddle up next to him and pass him his drink. He gives you an amused look at how you’re curled on his chest, but just wraps his arm around you and pulls you in.
“Dirty Dancing, really? Who are you and what have you done with Dean??”
“It’s a classic! But if you tell Sammy, I’ll deny it until the day I die. And then again when I come back.” You roll your eyes and scoff at his dark, but so far accurate, humor.
As the movie plays, you eventually wrap your arm around Dean’s torso and breathe him in. His warm, firm body keeping out the chill of the bunker and the small thumb strokes he’s making on your back slowly lulling you to sleep. Honestly, tonight could not have played out better for you. You don’t know what entity to thank for the power outage, but you’re grateful the universe had your back tonight.
Maybe Valentine’s Day isn’t so bad after all.