content: smoking. shotgunning. gentle n' loving Dean. kisses. fem!reader. established relationship. pet names. suggestive antics.
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Dean had pulled you under an awning when the rain started pouring on your way to a bar late at night, just enough to shelter the two of you, water droplets glistening on both of your hair, the shoulders of your jackets already felt heavier as the water seeped in between the stitches. Watching you as you gaze out into the darkness of the night with your hand sticking out to feel the rain on your hand.
The sound of your laughter is muffled as the clouds made their presence loud and clear with a flashing smile, thundering through your heart to let you know that she likes the attention that you give her, how you were never scared of her loud speeches, if anything, you always told her to talk more, and sometimes she would reply, just so she could hear the giddiness through your smile.
"You'll freeze, sweetheart." He nudges, his own smile creeping in as he props his weight on the wall behind him, one leg over the other while he fidgets with his lighter. The first time you gasped when a thunder rolled into town, he thought you were scared, was ready to throw his heroic embrace around you, til he saw how you would do a little happy dance whenever thunder announced its arrival. His heart beat was ringing louder in his ears that night than any thunder.
The sound of metal clanks behind you, catching your attention to find that he was lighting up a cigarette, the amber glow of the small flame illuminating his features like an oil painting, making the green in his eyes more pigmented, the distant light coming from a lamp post creating the perfect contrasting background, his gaze locks with yours, tugging at your heartstrings like a moth shamelessly drawn to the flame.
Smoke billows out into the sky, mixing in with the milky way, his cigarette held between his thumb and forefinger, the cherry looking like a firefly every time his hands move. His lips twitched into a smile, asking you "what?", silently. Your eyes drop to the packet in his hand before raising back up to him and his smirk only widens, putting out his arm for you to take.
He pulled you closer towards him, his hand, calloused and warm yet still the most gentle when it comes to you, always gentle, moved your wet hair away from your forehead, "Your lips 're turning blue, princess." He notices, pressing a steady kiss to your temple. "They're naturally that color." You jab and feel his chuckle against your skin more than hear it.
His free hand finds your side, his warmth anchoring your shivering to a mild shake. He flips the packet open with one hand and lets you pick between the last two sticks, eyes gazing at how the filter sits between your lips while he fishes for his lighter, flinging it open to clank just like it did earlier, the flame dancing while he lights up your choice of poison for the night.
The smoke fills your lungs ardently, kissing every concave wall behind your ribcages. Dean flicks the butt of his into the corner, pulling out the last stick and crumbling the packet back into his pocket. "C'mere, baby.." his hand tilts your chin upward, bringing your cigarette to his level before he aligns his over it. Your eyes flutter weakly as you watch him inhale a few times, letting your cherry light up his own before he finally exhales the smoke away from you.
A gush of wind howls while thunder sings, letting your heightened senses flinch for the first time at your friend, making your still shaky hand drop the cigarette into a puddle, a quick hiss before drowning completely into a sheer iridescent film.
Dean chuckles at your surprised disbelief before you join him, laughing at the situation. He holds his cigarette in one hand while he takes yours in the other, blowing warm air over them and pressing featherlight kisses to your knuckles. Making you even more putty under the warmth of him.
"I can't believe I dropped it.." You pout, already missing the lightheadedness that came from the smoke tingling your brain while he takes your other hand and repeats the process. "We'll share mine, hm?" He coos, rubbing your back and arms while you wrap a lazy arm around his waist. Wishing you could turn into a cat just to be able to curl into his body heat.
Unbeknownst to you, he takes a long drag and holds it in, his hand cupping your face to bring your gaze up to him, "Open up, baby." He whispers, already resting his forehead against yours, and your lips part for him while he hovers over them, blowing into your mouth slowly. His thumb caressing your cheek tenderly.
The smoke fogs up the bubble you two were in, inhaling it like a whispered secret that's made of all elements Dean; tobacco, leather, motor oil, and the remnants of apple pie, nicotine luring your brain away from functioning, making you addicted to the feelings you were under, his gaze and smirk getting you lightheaded more than carbon monoxide ever could.
"Again.." you whisper, your weight dropping more onto him, his knee slides in between your legs, his hand moving to your waist to keep you up. He searches your expression for a moment, seeing how dazed you were and if only he knew how much of it was about him.
His thumb runs along your bottom lip, resting his forehead against yours, "Say please.", he teases, his own eyes turning heavy from the sight and feel of you, the ashes falling off his stick and flying in the wind while the fire simmers along the vines of tobacco.
"Please, Dean, baby.." you drawl out, feeling the heat in your body move to your cheeks, earning you a chuckle that spills out of him and makes you giggle, "That's my girl." He takes another drag, the last puff before the fire eats at the filter, flicking it away while he aligns his lips over yours once more, exhaling into you, just to lock his lips with yours in a soft but not any less hungry kiss
The smoke dances around your lungs for longer, making you even more lightheaded but all you could feel was Dean, his warm hands pulling you closer against him while sharing the metallic taste of smoke. He pulls back, letting you breathe out what was left while catching his own breath. "You ok, sweetheart?" His hand rests above your chest, feeling how hard your heart was pumping, hoping that he didn't get lost in the moment for too long.
"Mhm.." was all you managed to put out, smiling up at him, still entranced and lightheaded. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple as he wraps you up in a hug, the two of you exchanging body heat, the rain finally starting to go from a downpour to a drizzle.
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ᝰ.ᐟ dreamers: @islaymonsters @honeybeechestnut — 𑣲 (still can't believe this is actually happening, insane, wdym!? thank you sm for being here <3)
Dean getting mad at you because Mary died. [i haven’t watched the past two episodes but by the posts on tumblr, I suspect that happens] Oh, and my name is Ashley!!!😊
/I haven’t seen the last couple of episodes either so I’m just writing this based on what I’ve read here so it might not be very accurate/
***
“You knew and you didn’t do anything” Dean stares at me, his eyes laced with anger and pain. “You knew something was wrong with him and you kept it to yourself”
“I was helping him, Dean. I knew that if I mentioned this to you, you would’ve reacted the exact same you are doing right now” I know it’s pointless to try to reason why him right now, that he is gonna say things he doesn’t mean but if there’s anyone who can take it, it’s me. I prefer him going off at me than at Jack because I don’t know how he would react. “You would’ve made the situation a lot harder. He got his grace back and there are some things he needs to figure out and I didn’t want to throw you in the mix because you would’ve gone back to the Dean who saw Jack as a monster”
“Because that’s what he is” Dean glares at me. “He is out of control and mom is not gonna be his only victim”
“Sam was out of control too and you didn’t see him as a monster” I know that’s a low blow and I shouldn’t bring it up, but I also know I’m right. “You need to recheck your values because you seem to forget the when they don’t benefit you”
“Don’t you dare bring that up” Dean’s eyes are almost red in anger but that doesn’t scare me. “It’s different and you know it”
“It isn’t but you choose to ignore it” I take a couple of steps towards Dean. “I know you are hurting, I know there is no way for me to understand what you are going through. But Jack needs us Dean. Right now more than ever, he needs our guidance”
“I give a rat’s ass about what he needs” Dean turns away from me to walk out of our room “Jack might have been the one to kill her but her blood is also in your hands, Ashley”
“Dean” I try to stop him but the loud bang of the door stops me, as Dean disappears into the hallway.
———
“Have you tried calling him?” I pace around Sam, chewing on my bottom lip as he looks into his cellphone.
“5 times now” Sam grunts before throwing the phone towards the table. “Straight to voice mail”
“He hates me, Sam” I sit down, hiding my face between my hands. “He is right. I should’ve done something to stop Jack”
“There’s no way you could’ve known that this was gonna happen” Sam places his hand over my shoulder. “You were trying to help Jack”
“And I failed” I huff, leaning back on the chair. “Why are you being so nice to me, Sam?”
“Because this isn’t your fault” He gives me a sympathetic smile. “Just like it isn’t Jack’s. I know what that’s like, Ash. To have the kind of power that controls you instead of you controling them. I was once Jack, and I regret everything I did just like I know Jack is doing right now. Sure, I miss mom but hating Jack won’t bring her back”
“Dean doesn’t think that way” I sigh, not sure if I want to know what Dean is doing right now.
“Give him time” He pats my back once again. “He’ll come around”
“I hope so” I give him a weak smile before grabbing his phone to try to call him again.
----
I hear Dean´s shoes fall to the floor as he sits at the edge of the bed, his back to me. I don´t stay on my side of the bed, not sure if I should call his name or even lock eyes with him. Instead, I keep my back to him and close my eyes to pretend I´m still asleep. A couple of seconds go by before he moves again, the bed dipping on his side.
Before I can give in and turn around, his arms find their way to my waist, pulling me to him. He pulls me in his embrace, face sinking between my neck as he hold me hard against his chest. "I don't hate you"
"Dean-"
"Sam told me" He stops me, his hand finding mine over my middle. "I needed you to know that. I was angry at you and just because I'm angry at you doesn't mean that I hate you. I could never hate you, I love you too much"
"I know" I squeeze his hand as I feel his tears making my pijama top a little damp. "I was just scared and my mind was spinning, but I know. I love you too"
I reach my arm back to his head to run my fingers through his hair as the tears become more heavier con my skin, his trembling lip sending sgivers down my spine. "I just... I miss her, Ash"
I know him, and he doesn't need comforting words right now, not like there is something I can do that will automatically make him forget about his mom. So I just pull his arms tighter around my body and I let him cry as much as he needs to because this is his recoking.
Requested by anon: Could you do one where your deans girlfriend but you like sams perfect girl, and the first time he meets you sam just tells dean how much he likes you but dean tell Sam your already dating.
Summary: Dean introduces reader to Sam, who inmediately falls for her without knowing Dean is dating her.
Pairing: Sam x reader/Dean x reader
Word count: 846
Warnings: Heart-broken Sam.
A/N: Short one, sorry.
Enjoy!
There had been many fake news that Sam had received from Dean over the past years, however, when Dean told his little brother that he wanted to introduce someone to him, Sam didn’t think it twice.
Of course, Sam was still not fully over Jessica, but he was ready to move on and find a new girl. Dean knew this, it was a common conversational topic for the brothers, and maybe he had found the right girl for his little brother.
They were supposed to meet at a diner. Of course, the girl knew nothing of hunting – or so did Sam thought – so they couldn’t just take her to a vampire next or a crappy motel’s cafeteria.
It was crowded when Sam got there, but Dean and the girl had arrived a lot earlier and already table. Sam entered the place confidently and walked towards his brother to the last table.
Dean stood up and so did the girl as they watched Sam approach. She was gorgeous; her hair, her eyes, her general features… And she looked so bad-ass yet somehow feminine, Sam could see her curves under her clothing.
“Sam, this is (Y/N).” Dean spoke happily as his brother reached the table, “(Y/N), this is my brother Sam.”
The girl shook Sam’s hand. The softness of her skin against the calloused hunter’s hands made an amazing contrast, and Sam couldn’t help but to feel excited. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sam.” She spoke with a smile. Her voice made Sam’s heart flutter. “Dean has told me a lot about you.”
“Good things, I hope.” Sam joked.
“Of course they’re good things, otherwise she wouldn’t have agreed to come and meet you.” Dean snapped. Both Sam and (Y/N) giggled at his reaction and then they sat at the round table.
The evening went by with anecdotes from (Y/N). She was intelligent, clever, ingenious, funny, loving, carefree, cheerful… It was like a wave of happiness in that sad life Sam had grown into. And, speaking of which, she also knew about it.
She wasn’t a proper hunter, she was actually a teacher – a lore teacher – and so her investigations led her to find the hunting community. She was usually the person to call first when having a doubt about a monster or when guidance was needed. Bobby introduced her to Dean a bit before Sam was dragged from Stanford and, although they didn’t keep much contact, they had become great friends in no-time.
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“She’s awesome.” Sam beamed. He and Dean were at the Impala, right after dropping (Y/N) at her apartment.
“I know.” Dean smiled warmly, without moving his eye out of the road.
“And so clever…”
“I know.”
“And so…”
“I know.” Dean interrupted his brother. Sam got the point and cleared his throat.
“Thanks for introducing us, Dean.” Sam spoke truthfully, “I really do think things could go further.”
“Yeah, I knew you would like her.” Dean chuckled, “Best friends kind of gig.”
“I was actually thinking… Maybe more than friends.” Dean stepped on the breaks. Fortunately there was only one car behind them, and at enough distance not to crash with them.
“Excuse me?” Dean inquired, ignoring the other’s car horn as it drove by.
“Yeah, I mean, she’s just… Perfect for me, you know?” Sam explained with a smile, although he was confused about his brother’s reaction.
“Well, that’s a shame, she’s taken.” Dean hissed.
“Then why did you introduced us?” Sam asked with a frown.
“Can’t I introduce you to a woman for you to be friends with her?!” Dean exclaimed.
“You’re always talking about how much I need a girlfriend, and then you appear with her… Of course I figured you wanted us to hook up.” Sam replied.
“Why on Earth would I want my girlfriend to hook up with another man?! Less to say my brother?!” Sam’s face became pale.
Those times he had found Dean texting someone in the middle of the night, and the calls he received out of nowhere, without mentioning the times he escaped and didn’t appear until two days later… It was because of her. Dean had a girlfriend.
“Dude, I… Sorry, I had no idea.” Sam apologised.
“Yeah, whatever.” Dean fumed, “I just wanted to make sure you liked her before telling you… Apparently, you liked her too much.”
“I’m sorry.” Sam whispered.
Every illusion he had made since the minute he laid eyes on her were shattered like a glass. His heart ached with nightmares; nightmares that would soon become true. Dean and (Y/N) kissing in front of him, Dean calling her by cheesy pet names, midnight sex that would surely wake him up, loads of PDA and dirty jokes exchanged in front of him… And the worse: to be around her without being able to even touch her. To crave her, the forbidden fruit. His perfect woman in the arms of his brother… It made Sam feel all kinds of un-brotherly feelings, and yet, he remained quiet and cool, no matter how much it hurt him to see them together.
Laying in his arms now you thought of the first time he took your clothes off. It wasn’t wild and primal as you expected it to be. It was different, that for weeks afterwards you still had no words to describe the way he made you feel. That’s when your realized it was so much more than an itch you had to scratch from the time you were old enough to find him attractive.
Even thinking about it gave you the shivers and made your cheeks a deep shade of red. When he looked at you your heart would gallop, then beat fast and slow at the same time. Constantly you found yourself grinning at the simple reason of just being in his company, sitting on the kitchen floor of the bunker, drinking beer and arguing about T.V shows.
Any stranger who paid attention noticed how unapologetically in love with him you were. To you, he wasn’t just a hunter. He was a hero- a kind hearted, loyal and even more selfless hero and you’d give up your life for him in an instant. He deserved to be loved unconditionally, he deserved to be taken care off.
Tonight was raining just like the night you were remembering except this time you were already in his arms, tracing his scars gently with your fingers. Most of them were fading except the one on his calf still very livid but was healing well.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not so much now. You are so much better at playing nurse than Sammy. He can’t stitch for shit.”
“How did you know it was me who fixed you up hunter?” you giggled, “You were barely conscious considering the amount of blood you lost.”
“There’s only one person I know with such soft hands and a delicate touch. I could hear you as well, telling me it was going to be okay. I believe you and here I am.”
“I got you. I always will.” you kissed the scar on his shoulder, the one from a werewolf hunter not so long ago.
Dean sighed deeply, kissing the top of your head, “You wanted to tell me something before I distracted you.” he smirked, sliding his hand up your bare leg that was slung over him, seductively.You shut your eyes, enjoying the feather feel of his touch with a silly grin on your face before catching his ear between your teeth and then whispering to him.
“You’re gonna be a Dad, Dean. I’m pregnant.”
His hand left your thigh to cup your cheek, he moved himself away from you so he could look at your face. Your eyes searching his as your heart was beating about a 100 miles a minute, waiting for him to say something- anything.
Then, the biggest smile appeared, his eyes sparkling with joy. Immediately, your fears had melted away.
“I’m gonna be a Dad!” he began, “I’m gonna be a Dad!” he got louder, “I’m gonna be a fucking Dad!!”
He smashed his lips to yours, all his love and devotion seeping through his kiss.
“Now, I have everything I could ever want.” his hand settling on your stomach that would soon be swollen with a beautiful girl with eyes as gorgeous as her Dad’s.
You just knew it.
A/N: I was listening to some songs, saw this gif that I used above and this is the result. You like? Let me know and maybe there’ll be more. Have a wonderful Thursday Boos!!
You were excited about this and unlike every other time, the brothers wanted to do this too. It was new years eve and you were all ready to celebrate it.
“Fifteen minutes to go Y/N,” Sam said. The three of you were huddled around a small camp fire, just outside the bunker. You and Dean had snuggled in the same blanket, while Sam had perched on a log, opposite to you.
“Let’s do the thing Sam! Pull it out!” You exclaimed.
“Whoa, whoa… You’re my girlfriend, you can’t tell him to do that,” Dean chuckled besides you, while you threw him a bitch face.
“Not funny, you idiot!”
“C’mon, it was a little funny,” Dean winked at you, licking his lips. Lucky for him that the bastard was too handsome to resist. He wouldn’t have gotten away with half of those innuendos otherwise. Seeing him relaxed and grinning made you wanted to jump him then and there. He was hardly laid back these days, let alone naughty. You narrowed your eyes at him and let it go. He only smirked back.
Sam had had too much of his brother’s double-meaning jokes to be bothered about being embarrassed. While you had been admonishing Dean, he had “pulled out” the object in question from his bag and was setting it up.
“Isn’t that the thing from tangled?” Dean asked
“Yeah it is. It’s called a floating lantern,” you said, turning to look at him. His face was bathed in the warm glow of the fire and his eyes were shining with mirth. Was it possible to fall deeper in love with someone, you already loved with everything you had? If so, you just had.
“Uhhgg Y/N?” Sam called, a confused look on his face. “This thing is not lighting up. Am I doing it right?” He was holding the matchstick to the wick, but it was not catching fire. You had done this before, there was definitely some blowing involved.
“I think you have to blow on it, to turn it on,” you scrunched your face, taking a better look at the lantern.
“You bet,” you heard Dean scoff behind you. You turned behind to see a shit-eating smirk plastered on his face. Only then did you realize that what you’d just said could be taken in a totally different sense. Your face grew hot so suddenly that you could feel the blood flooding to your cheeks.
“You dirty-minded jerk, get your head out of the gutter,” you tried to hide your face.
“Hey, hey, I didn’t say anything,” Dean laughed, prying your fingers away from your face. “Look, it’s almost midnight,” he said, pointing towards his watch…. 4…3…2…1…0
Dean’s lips captured yours then. The kiss wasn’t fiery or compelling, it was sweet, gentle and teasing. He kissed you lazily, like there was no hurry, like he was sure you belonged with him. There was mischief there, but love too.
“Happy new year sweetheart,” he smiled against your lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you said, just as Sam successfully released the lantern in the air.
Dean grinned widely at your words, smiling like a young boy on his birthday. “So… About the blowing…”
Submitted by: @thing-you-do-with-that-thing.. Kari! I hope you like it :*
Dean's heart flashes all the things he yearns for but won't admit to wanting
content: gn!reader. pure yearn mode Dean. daydreaming. suggestive imagery. friends that could be more. constipated Dean as usual. mentions of smoking & cigarettes. w.c: 1.3k
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Gravity was starting to pull at your eyelids while your hands still continued typing away. At one point, you closed your eyes to rest them for a few seconds while your fingers continued moving; a soft crack from your neck joined the orchestra of sounds that were being emitted by you as you strived to keep going on research that had to be figured out yesterday, or the monster would just keep on killing.
You sigh through your nose, tired yet still wired. Not remembering that there was a world beyond the screen's borders.
Dean was sitting across from you at the table, his own laptop open while a bunch of books sat in between the two of you. His eyes would flicker to you with every slight movement that blared out how tired and uncomfortable you were getting with each second, clearly needing a break himself from how distracted he was.
A small smile tugs at a corner of his lips, research forgotten as the soft white light emitted from your screen onto your face was making you look fragile and delicate. The glow traced your outline in a way that looked like a watercolor painting. Wanting nothing more than to press your laptop shut and look after you while you rested in his arms.
How he'd love nothing more than to just pepper your cotton-candied cheeks with kisses, feel how pliable your skin is when he wraps his arm around your waist, pull you in closer while you burrow into his chest for warmth and serenity.
To have his thumb move up and down your shoulder, lightly tracing the meadow of goosebumps that would appear as your body fully molds into the shape of him, and hear the softness of your breathing hitting against his neck, keeping him grounded in the truth of your existence with every molecule that showed him so.
His mind starts wandering, thinking about how you moan in satisfaction when he makes you a warm cup of hot cocoa cause he already knows that coffee makes it hard for you to sleep at night whenever you two are researching instead of Sam. How it gave him more time to spend with you, even if it wasn't in a way he preferred to do.
Knowing that the sound of your giggle when stealing fries off his plate could cure any heartache he's ever had. The way the sound of your laughter always brought him back from caving in too much from wherever his mind takes him, from things he hasn't shared.
Or how your eyes sparkle when they crescent while laughing at an over told joke from him, making him feel like a twelve year old boy who's having a crush for the first time all over again.
He'd confess his feelings in a heartbeat if it meant he could just hold your hand for a few minutes. Learn the curvature of your fingers by heart, the hills of your knuckles that were adorned with scars from that one time you punched a douchebag back at a diner who kept insisting the booth you were using was his and how he sat there all the time and would not leave.
Yammering about how he could beat Dean up if he wanted to when he tried to handle it with more civility. How his heart raced when he saw you take a swing, watching the guy fall on his back, laughing with you as the two of you got kicked out of the establishment, but it was the principle that won his affection; he really felt like he had a partner who'd stand up for him.
You were the closest thing he's ever had to an actual best friend in... ever, really, how you know all the little references he makes and add to them, sharing his love for music and knowing all his favorites by heart, singing together at the top of your lungs while he drove, laughing till your stomachs would stiffen while people watching and making up elaborate stories for the passersby.
Giving him the last cigarette in the pack, knowing there isn't a gas station in meters ahead, just cause he needed to let off steam and you didn't want him drinking himself to wake up with a migraine the next morning.
The comfortable silence shared between the two of you when you'd share a stick, and how he'd hope that you didn't hear how loud his heart was beating cause all he could think about was how you were indirectly kissing whenever your lips touched the filter to take a drag.
He'd never tell you any of this; the mere thought of losing you as a friend from the discomfort of confessing his feelings drives him crazier than any vengeful demon that toyed around with him on hunts. Unable to fathom going on without you by his side. And yet, his heart yearns for more.
Your lips part slightly, and your cheek presses into your palm as you rest against it while reading what the source was telling you, the moments in between your blinks getting longer, and he realizes you were dozing off.
All he could think about was how your lips would taste against his. Have his hand running through your hair as he pulls you closer, his other hand groping past your waist and cupping your ass. To hear you writhe, gasp, and moan when he finds your earlobe before nuzzling the skin where your jaw is connected to your shoulder, the fantasy ruminating in a place he keeps tucked away.
Gathering all his willpower, he knocks on the table gently while your name passes through his lips. Your eyes flutter open as a small whine escapes your throat while you adjust your vision. The sound reddens the tip of his ears; he wanted to know all the types of sounds your body could make if you'd let him.
You gather your bearings and stretch your arms above your head, your face scrunching as you let out a tired sigh, feeling even more sluggish and spent now. He had to cover his smile with a hand rubbing down his mouth; gosh, you were spellbinding.
"Your head was about to fall off your shoulder." He teases lightly, but his eyes hold out a blanket of sincerity. "Go, sleep. I'll wake you up if there's anything important." He coos, and you give him a silent apologetic smile.
"You sure?" You ask, feeling guilty for putting more work on his shoulders. "Yeah. Go," he points with his head, and you get up before your body completely nestles in the chair, dragging your legs one after the other out of the motel room, Dean not thinking too much of your own extracurricular activities.
He lets out a sigh - tiredness, bottled feelings, admiration; it was all coming out as one as he pushed his back to sit up straighter and went back to reading, already feeling how much quieter the room was without you while his finger mindlessly started tapping the table.
His heart did jumping jacks when a paper cup of coffee sat in front of him, the smell waking up his senses already, its steam vaporising clearly, and he looked up to find you smiling sleepily at him, "I'm still going to bed. Just couldn't leave you stranded like that." You confess, the loss of warmth from the cup making you even sleepier as you search for it.
"Thanks, now shoo, before I change my mind." He replies fondly, and you nod contentedly while giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, watching you walk to the bed at the end of the motel room and letting out a groan when your body finally felt the comfort of the covers engulfing you.
His heart begged him to share his feelings with you while his brain tried coming up with a proper plan to do it in the morning, but he drowned it shut with the coffee you made him and went back to work instead.
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Trying a new layout with the photo, feel like it adds more to the vibe. what do you think?
Dean doesn't like it when you're away from him for too long
content: gn!reader. established relationship. lovedrunk Dean. mention of a kiss. angst (ish, or just sad) with a happy ending.
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The phone sat on the motel's table across of where Dean was sitting, staring at it while his mind wasn't in the room with him, hoping the screen would turn blue and vibrate, your name to show on the screen with the heart he added after you asked him what was your name saved as in his phone and he showed you how simple it was, pouting, showing him his name on yours with a heart next to it.
Being this far away from you for days at a time was starting to take its toll on him. Of course your expertise was needed elsewhere, so you had to go on a different case instead of with him, where he could keep an eye on you, even if you were a brilliant hunter yourself. It'll only be a few days, you reassured him with the most loving kiss before taking off, seeing the longing in him that he tries to hide but never works. Not with you.
He'd call you, and you'd chat for a while during the night. He'd tell you how his case was going and you'd tell him how boring yours is without him. The phone weighting heavier in his hand whenever the call ends and leaves him with the stillness of the night. But the phone never rang that night. Not even after the ten missed calls he left you while walking the small room back and forth, hoping he'd hear a hello.
The local bar was buzzing that night. Too many people were filling up the cramped space but he was drowning in the thought of you. How the wind danced with your hair when you'd have it down, or the way you preferred your perfume warm and spicy over flowery to match his.
His eyes prickled with a sheer layer of mist. Clenching his jaw as he wills it dry, shooting the last gulp of jack daniels as a fruitless attempt to not think about you for even a minute. Yet his eyes dart to someone across the room, their back to him while talking to their companions, his heart jumps out of his chair for him, going over there to tap your shoulder, only to crawl back sullen when they turned around and it wasn't you.
When he thought any more would make him enter trouble zone, he walked out. The night breeze an espresso shot to his half lidded senses. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he fumbles over his leather jacket and flannel, trying to reach the phone in his pocket.
Your name flashes across the screen in bold black color with the heart next to it and his heart aches, pulling on the corners of his lips as he presses the speaker to his ear. Sniffling a breath of fresh air in. "Hi Dean, my love." You greeted and his eyes pooled again, "Say it, again.." he drawls and you catch the tipsiness in his voice.
"Say what, again, my love?" You coo and he could hear the smile in your voice, carrying that playful tone. "You only call me that when you're away.." he pouts, throwing his stoicism into the wind. Shoving his hand into his pocket. Your chuckle sounds in his ear and he could swear you were right there next to him.
"Want me to say it when I'm back?" You ask, voice softer, and he kicks a stone off the pavement, his chest tightening, "Just want you back, sweetheart.." he confesses, smiling wistfully despite you not being there to see it. "I'm right here, Dean." You respond, your voice louder in his ear, too close, too near.
He looks up, his mind telling him how silly his thought of you being around was but there you were, standing on the other side of the road. Phone pressed to your ear, that eternal look of reverence etched into your gaze, smiling at him while leaning against a light pole.
And he's there across the street in the span of two and a half seconds, his face searching yours, not fully believing the fact that you're actually here, but you cup his cheek, practically sobering him up and he's faithful, "Hi, my love."
