Warnings: SMUT DRABBLE (so if you’re under 18, don’t) - shower sex, unprotected sex
A/N: After watching Shang-chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings for... oh about the thousandth time, I just had to, the things Simu Liu does to me in this movie are just... well, yeah. Also, since this is my very first non-SPN fic, but was pretty fun to write, if you’d like me to add you to a new taglist I’ll be making for Marvel fics, let me know here!
📸 cred: to rightful owners
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics
Elle’s Library/Main Masterlist
The cool tile you were pressed up against was a small relief in contrast to the heat produced by your bodies under the steady stream of warm water. Shaun’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, his teeth lightly nipping at your skin as his hips set a torturously slow rhythm. His hard cock was deep within you, filling you completely, stretching you out in a way that only he could. The knot in the pit of your stomach began to tighten and you ran your nails along his back, leaving behind small marks that made him your own.
Your attempt at showering alone had been gloriously interrupted by a ravenous Shaun, eager to keep the marathon you’d both started up — since he’d been back from his long trip — going. Before long, your legs were wrapped around his hips as he fucked you into oblivion yet again. The sounds of water droplets falling against the ceramic floor of the shower were nearly drowned out by your own moans and groans, with scattered curses falling from your lips while he had his way with your body. His lightly calloused hands helped keep you up, grabbing your ass and squeezing every time he felt his own orgasm grow dangerously closer.
“Shau..” you started but caught yourself, he’d made it very clear that you were to call him by his true name from now on. “Shang-chi,” you whimpered, “faster… please.”
Shang-chi looked up at you and smiled mischievously. He pulled out of you and you were about to protest when he set you back down on to the floor and turned you around abruptly. Your chest and face were now pressed up against the bath wall and your ass stuck out instinctively to which he responded by smacking your ass cheek, making you yelp in surprise.
“Good girl,” he praised. “Tell me what you want, baby.”
“Please,” you whined. “Please fuck me hard.”
“Fuck, you’re hot.” He lined himself up with you and pushed deep into you in one swift movement. You screamed out in pleasure and had a hard time holding back as his fingers tangled in your hair, keeping you pressed against the wall, while his other hand held on to your hip and he began thrusting mercilessly in and out of you. Skin slapping against skin, loud moans and soft praises surrounded you. His pace was rough, and you could feel yourself on the edge of bliss, brought closer and closer by the movements of his body. Without warning, Shang-chi pulled completely out of you and slammed back in. He repeated this a few more times until you were a begging, writhing mess. He knew you were waiting for his permission to cum and were desperate for it. He could feel your cunt clenching around him in anticipation. His hands caressed your body, stopping at your breasts, kneading them softly before rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers. You felt his chest press against your back, the combined heat of your bodies adding to the already unbearable need to just let go.
“You can cum, baby. Cum on my cock,” he ordered as he continued fucking you hard and reached down with one hand to rub your clit lightly with his fingers. In a split second you let yourself go and screamed out his name, your vision went white and you threw your head back against his chest as wave after wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure ran through your entire body. Shang-chi followed close behind and you felt his forehead against your shoulder as he came deep within you, both his hands now holding on to your hips, making you take all of him, leaving behind small bruises as he coated your walls with his warm seed.
You came down from your highs and chuckled as your quivering legs struggled to keep you upright. Shang-chi held on to you and turned you around to face him, his chocolate brown eyes staring deep into your soul as he smiled at you. He kissed you tenderly, his body warmth being the only thing keeping you from freezing under the now-cold shower.
Hello! ☺️☺️ so 💁🏻♀️ I read in the tags of your post about Dean pointing his gun and ummm you wrote a fic about gun-pointing smutty goodness?? May I please please know which one? Thank you! 😭💜💜💜
hey beaut! LOL ofc, hope you enjoy! x
Summary: Dean’s a pro with a weapon and Y/N likes that. A little too much. Characters: Dean x Reader. Words: 295. Warnings: gun play, outdo
Hello there! 👋🏼 so couple of things I just finished reading your series “Mine” and fucking hell I’m still getting chills from it. The whole thing was just *chef’s kiss* Seriously, amazing job! Also, can I pretty please be added to you Dean Taglist? Thank you ☺️💜
Hey love!
I have not long got home and I have this very second read all of your reblogs (the stranger things gif got me-ngl). I don’t know if have words to express how grateful I am for your comments and general love for my fave lil dark series: Mine.
I won’t lie and say I loved writing it (first-person POV is hard) but I think powering through paid off. It’s messages like this that make me want to write more creepy/thriller/dark!fics. I mean, you’d be into it, right?
In the meantime, I have added you to my Dean tags. Hopefully, you’ll love it here. And thank you for the first time somebody called my fic *chef’s kiss*
Good morning! ☺️ May I please be added to the Morning Dean Girls tag list? Thank you! 💜
Good morning! Unfortunately the tag list is closed right now. I know it’s a bit confusing since I’ve been reblogging old posts that have the link. I hope you still enjoy the posts 😊
Characters: Firefighter!Dean x Doctor!Reader, Firefighters [Benny, Cas], Sam, Various OFC’s
Warnings: Will vary per chapter but may include - Fluff, Angst, Smut (18+ only), dramatized medical talk
Word Count: In Progress
Summary: Y/N Y/L/N’s life is simple — work, books, and saving lives. But when a handsome firefighter comes to her hospital in need of care, her life gets turned upside down as she quickly falls for the green-eyed hero. Will being with him prove to be what was missing from her life?
A/N: My first AU!series 🥳 This is something I’ve been working on for a while and am extremely excited to share with y’all! If you’d like to join the Ablaze Taglist (or any of my other taglists) let me know here!
📸 cred: to rightful owners and to the wonderfully amazing @downanddirtydean 💜
Text dividers by the mega-talented @talesmaniac89
Here’s my full Masterlist if you’d like to read more!☺️
Characters: Firefighter!Dean x Doctor!Reader, Meg, Cas
Word Count: ~3.5k
Warnings: Fluff, Angst
A/N: we’re getting to it now, I’m sorry in advance 😣
Catch up on this series here >>> Ablaze Masterlist
📸 cred: to the wonderful @downanddirtydean and rightful owners
Dividers by: @talesmaniac89 and @firefly-graphics
Here’s my full Masterlist if you’d like to read more!☺️
Dean. Your gaze flits between the text and the letter, anxiety creeping it’s way up your spine.
Fuck.
The morning cold seeps into your bones as you turn the street corner. After a night of tossing and turning, you barely managed to get an hour of sleep before you were up again, thoughts running through your head a mile a minute. It’s on days like these that the only thing that helps is a jog around the block. So, here you are, running through the neighborhood at 6 a.m. with nothing but a thin layered sports outfit to protect you from the biting cold. Still, at least it keeps your mind focused on something other than the current problem at hand.
It’s not until half an hour later that you’re back home, exhausted and sweaty. After a quick shower you hope to be able to get a few more hours of sleep but the hope dies out quickly as you lay your head on the pillow.
Can’t run away from the truth, Y/N. You know what you have to do.
“Argh!” You smash a pillow against your face. You do know what you have to do, at least you thought you did until a certain green-eyes fireman waltzed into your life and turned it upside down. Now? It’s a whole other ball game, one that you didn’t plan for; certainly one that you’re not ready to play.
As you turn over for what must be the thousandth time, you decide you need the help of a friend. Reaching for your phone, you go to dial Meg’s number. Yes, she might kill you for waking her up so early on a Sunday but once you explain she’ll understand.
The tone beeps for a couple times before the call is answered.
“Hello?” says a gravelly voice.
Eyebrows knit in confusion, you check the screen to make sure you called the right number. Yep, it’s Meg.
“Hello, Y/N? If you’re looking for Meg, she’s taking a shower but I can have her call you back.” says the voice once more.
“Who is this?” The man sounds familiar but you can’t quite put your finger on who it is.
“Oh, sorry. It’s Cas, Dean’s friend? I thought Meg had told you about us so I just assumed-“
“Oh,” that sneaky nurse, “right. Sorry, it’s early so it must’ve just slipped my mind. I remember now,” liar, “she did mention something. How’s it going, Cas?”
“Good, how are you? I heard you had a great time last night.” What? Right, one of Dean’s best friends.
“Great! Yeah, it was really fun… listen, can you have Meg call me back? There’s something I need to ask her.”
“Sure thing, I’ll let her know.” There’s a pause during which you almost think he’s already hung up, “hey, Y/N? I’m sorry if it’s out of place for me to say anything about you and Dean but I just wanted to say thanks. Dean hasn’t had the easiest life, but in the past few weeks I’ve seen him a lot happier than he’s been in the past couple years. So thanks for that, you’re really good for him.”
“Oh. Um, yeah I feel the same way…” Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Anyway, I’ll let you go now. Meg should be done soon so I’ll have her call you. Talk to you later!”
“Later!” You hear a soft click before the line goes silent.
‘You’re really good for him.’ Why did he have to say that? As if you weren’t already having major anxiety about your current predicament, Cas had to butt in and make things so much harder. Okay, it wasn’t fair to say that but it really did make everything more complicated than you’d like it to be.
It’s not until 15 minutes later that your phone rings and Meg is on the other line. She asks if you’d like her to come over to talk about whatever it is you need and you’re about to take her up on the offer when you hear Cas in the background asking how many pancakes she wants for breakfast. Meg hasn’t had the easiest love life either, and judging by the way in which her voice softens as she replies to him, you know it’s more than a fling.
“It’s fine, Meg. We can talk later, go be with Cas. Which we’re definitely going to have a long conversation about, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me how that even happened.”
“Relax, Y/L/N. I was going to tell you but honestly we’re still figuring out what this is.” Meg sighs contentedly, “I will say this though; that boy sure knows how to use his body to put out fires, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh my goodness, I always know what you mean, Meg. Anyways, don’t let me keep you, we’ll talk later.”
“Later… are you sure, though? You sound a bit on edge.” Meg can always tell when something’s wrong by just the tone of your voice.
You clear your throat and try to sound more nonchalant, “yeah, it can wait. Now, go get your pancakes woman!”
“Alright,” Meg chuckles. “Talk later.”
“Bye.” The line goes dead once again.
While trying to figure out how Meg and Cas came to be certainly helped distract you, it doesn't last long as your mind wanders back to what Cas said about Dean. You know some details about his previous relationship, you know he was engaged to some girl named Lisa. You know she had a kid and they were together for a couple years. What you don’t know is why the engagement was broken off, but now — based on what Cas said — you suspect it wasn’t a mutual breakup.
As you clearly won’t be able to sleep another minute today, you decide to get up and do some cleaning around the house. It’s not particularly messy but maybe it’ll help keep your mind occupied. As song after song in your “Clean up” playlist goes by, you almost forget about everything that’s happened in the past few hours. Before you know it, it’s almost noon and your playlist is being interrupted by a call.
Rushing to the living room, you barely manage to answer the call before it gets sent to voicemail. “Hello?” You breathe into the phone.
“Woah, someone sounds like they’ve been running. Everything okay?” Dean chuckles.
“Yeah! I was just cleaning and ran to get to the phone in time. How are you feeling? Just woke up?”
“Sort of,” Dean replies. “I woke up a little while ago to make the lunch reservation. I just waited until now to call because I thought you’d still be sleeping.”
If only. “Yeah, no. I’ve been up for a while… so, lunch?”
“Lunch! Well, I made a reservation at this little place downtown that does brunch all day, if you like that kind of stuff?”
“Are you kidding? Breakfast and lunch? I love it!” But of course he’d somehow know that.
“Awesome! Hey, is it okay to invite Cas and Meg? Figured it might be kinda fun to hang out all together.”
Even he knows about them before me? “Yeah, that’s fine! So I’ll meet you at the place, if you want. Just send me the details.”
“I’ll pick you up, that way we’re not both struggling to find parking.”
“Oh. Okay, if you’re sure.”
“Of course! So I’ll come by in an hour?”
“Sounds good, I’ll see you then.” The butterflies in your stomach flutter as you think about seeing him soon.
“Bye, sweetheart.”
You press End Call and run a hand down your face. You can’t wait to see Dean, but you also know that being with him will make things even more difficult. Why does life never go the way you want?
“As soon as I saw her I just knew, I had to be with her.” The way Cas and Meg are looking at each other reminds you of cheesy, Hallmark movies. It’s a different look than you’re used to seeing from your best friend and you couldn’t be happier for her. So far, the brunch double date has revolved around how their relationship came to be, for which you are thankful. It gives you an excuse to pull focus from the perfect, handsome, sweet man to your side. Though you don’t know if Dean’s noticed your slight distancing from him, looking at Meg lets you know that she has. A few minutes after ordering your food, Meg excuses herself and asks you to join her. You follow and brace yourself for one of her lectures about letting people in.
“Okay, what’s the problem?” Meg asks as soon as the restroom door closes behind you.
“Problem?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Y/N. You think I haven’t noticed? It’s pretty obvious what you’re doing.” She crosses her arms and still you can’t bring yourself to admit what you know she has seen.
As you stare at her with what you hope is a dumbfounded expression, she sighs frustratedly, “look, I’m not going to lecture you on the whole getting closer to Dean front. I can tell something is wrong and it’s not exactly something he did, so just tell me why you’ve been treating him like a friend you just met rather than the man you’re dating and, clearly, falling for.”
Jesus, nothing escapes this one. “Fine,” you purse your lips as you reach into your handbag . You take the crumpled envelope and hand it to her. As her eyes scan the page, they widen and suddenly she understands ‘the problem’.
“You got the job?” She stares in surprise.
You nod slowly, a small smile on your lips as you allow yourself a smidge of happiness, “I got the letter yesterday. They want to fund my research and everything”
Meg’s lips break into a beaming smile and she hugs you, “I knew you would! Davis will be lucky to have you on their team!”
A brief moment of celebration is interrupted as Meg comes to understand your behavior, “wait. But this means you’d have to move to California, right? What about - Oh…”
“Yeah. So now you see why I have a bit of a problem.”
“Shit,” Meg whispers. An appropriate reaction, you think. “Okay, we need to really talk about this and right now is not the time. Let’s go back out there and I’ll say I don’t feel good or something and you and I can go somewhere else.”
“No!” You scoff, “we’re already here so we might as well stay. Besides, I don’t want to pull you from Cas and I just don’t have the strength to leave Dean right now… we, uh, we kissed last night.”
“You did? What happened? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Says the one that hid a whole relationship from me!” You shoot back but soon recount the entirety of the previous evening as quickly as you can, on the way back to the table.
Meg reacts giddily, “is he a good kisser?”
“Masters!” You scold and sigh, “he’s amazing.”
Meg’s practically jumping up and now in excitement and by the time you’re back with Dean and Cas, she can’t help but wink suggestively at you and Dean.
“Everything okay, Meg?” Dean is confused by her states.
“Peachy,” she smirks before turning her attention to Cas. The food arrives and soon you’re falling into easy conversation with the three of them. Dean keeps touching you in any way he can — brushing your hair out of the way, placing a hand on your knee — and for a moment you’re able to ignore the problem you had and focus on the way he makes you feel. He makes you laugh with some stories about work — one of them involving him having to save Cas from a tree after he tried to save a cat from said tree. “I thought that only happened in movies!” Your stomach hurts from laughter.
He makes you feel safe in the way he places an arm around you. He makes you feel wanted in the way his tongue peeks out from behind his teeth to lick his lips when his eyes roam your body. The man is just perfect.
Once the meal comes to an end, you find yourself alone in the car with Dean. Though Meg had asked if you’d like to spend the rest of the afternoon “shopping” — I.e. having a deep conversation about the issues you’re facing, you had to decline as Dean had other plans. You had contemplated cancelling on Dean but the way Cas smiled at you and Dean made it hard for you to say no.
Now, ten minutes later, you’re pulling into one of the parking lots surrounding the frozen lake at the park.
“Ice skating? Terrible idea, Winchester.” You sigh as you look at the families laughing and skating in front of you.
“What? It’s a great idea! Come on, it’ll be fun.” He hops out of the Impala and goes to grab a bag as you follow him out.
He walks around to your side and reaches into the bag. “I took a guess but I’m pretty sure I got it,” he says as he holds out a pair of ice skates that actually do look like they might be your size.
“You got me ice skates…?”
“Well, you’re going to need them,” Dean shrugs. “Besides, I had a feeling you don’t own any.”
“Your feeling is right. And that would be because I have the hand/eye coordination of a drunk 2 year-old.”
“Oh. Well, then it’s a good thing I have great coordination,” Dean winks as he leans in to give you a quick kiss before grabbing your hand and guiding you towards the lake. Any witty response you might have had died as soon as his lips touched yours. Intoxicating and enticing enough to make you forget about the fact that you’re about to look extremely ridiculous in front of a man you very much like.
Reaching the edge of the lake, Dean lets go of your hand to set up a blanket for the two of you to sit on. You flop down on the soft fabric and get to switching your shoes. Unsurprisingly, Dean guessed right and got you the perfect fit. You look over to him and smile, the crinkles around his eyes are prominent as he looks to the people on the lake with a smile. The cold is making his cheeks slightly red, as well as the tip of his nose. It’s adorable and you can’t help but move over and place a kiss on his cheek. He looks at you and his smile widens, which makes your heart race.
“Ready?” He stands and offers you a hand which you gratefully take. You struggle to get on your feet and soon you’re on the ice. Your knees buckle as you try to find a balance and Dean chuckles at your hesitation. He begins moving backward — talented bastard — and pulls you along which is easier said than done as your legs lock up completely.
“You have to relax, sweetheart.” Dean’s hands hold you firmly by the elbows as he continues to move slowly but steadily.
“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one about to fall on your face.” Your eyes are glued to the ice beneath you as you try to force yourself to relax.
Dean chuckles, “you won’t. I’ll be right here and if you fall, I’ll catch you.”
You look up for a moment and meet those expressive green eyes. He’s amused but not in a mocking way, if you had to guess you’d say he found the way you’re acting to be adorable.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Taking a deep breath, you try to follow his lead and before you know it you’re starting to move along the ice mostly on your own. Dean’s let go of your elbows though his arms still hover around you.
“See? You’re doing great!”
You want to argue against it but the truth is, this is the closest you’ve ever been to actual ice skating and can’t help but be a bit proud of yourself.
By the time the sun begins its descent, you’re almost good at ice skating. Dean brought snacks to have during your breaks and you’d continued talking and bonding with each other.
“So, why a firefighter?” You ask as you take a bite of the comically big Hershey’s chocolate bar Dean brought. “I mean, besides honor and glory, of course.”
Dean laughs, “of course. Actually, it’s not something I tell a lot of people but it’s because of my mom.”
You look over at him, “your mom?” He’d told you his mom had passed a while ago but you never knew how or why.
“Yeah… remember how I said she passed when I was a kid?”
You nod in response and he looks away into the distance.
“Well, she died in a fire. My dad barely got me and my little brother out. He went back to try and save her but there was an explosion and he couldn’t get to her in time. I was just 4 and my brother was still a baby but I can still remember how scared I was, and the heat of the flames destroying our home. I swore to myself then that when I grew up I’d do everything in my power to make sure that didn’t happen to other people.”
“Oh my god, Dean. I’m so sorry,” you whisper as you place a hand on his knee.
Dean turns his gaze back to you and wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, “it’s all right. It was a long time ago.”
His hand goes to rest on top of yours and you turn your palm to hold it, “you’re amazing.”
He smiles lightly before leaning down to capture your lips with his own. It’s brief and sweet, his way of saying thank you.
“So, why a plastic surgeon?” Dean returns the questions to you.
“Oh well, when I was doing my first couple years as a resident I got to see a little bit of everything but the first time I felt like I was really good at helping someone was probably my first mammoplasty.”
“And mammoplasty’s a…”
“Breast enhancement surgery but, mine was a bit different. It was for a patient with breast cancer. You know I used to think plastics wasn’t all that until then, and those kinds of surgeries were just what got me through the door. The way people felt after they saw results whether it was a little nose job or a breast reconstruction… It was definitely an eye opener for me. I’d kind of always thought people should just accept and love themselves as they are but it wasn’t until then that I realized that you can still love yourself and want to change a thing here and there. And those were the only patients I saw. So I did that for a couple years and then I got my first burn patient; it was this kid that had been injured when his family’s neighbor decided to shoot off some cheap fireworks. It was a freak accident really, he just happened to be taking out the trash at the same moment one of the fireworks flew the wrong way, straight to where he’d been standing. It was long and hard to recover from but that’s when I really found a passion for what I do. And when it comes to those types of things, there’s been so much progress but there’s still so much more that could be done, which is why I’ve been working on this research proposal for a few months and…”
Might as well tell him now.
“And?”
“There’s something I have to tell you,” you look away from Dean and he squeezes your hand lightly.
“You can tell me anything, Y/N.”
“Dean,” you take a deep breath, “these past few few days — well, weeks, really — with you have been nothing short of amazing. You’re fun, patient, sweet, just all around one of the best people I’ve had the chance to get to know. And it’s because of this that what I’m about to say is incredibly difficult.”
“What’s wrong?”
Closing your eyes, you blurt out, “I got offered the position of head researcher at the UC Davis Department of Surgery… in California.”
Chancing a glance his way, your chest tightens as you see the way his face falls in realization, “Oh.”
There’s a moment of silence between the two of you. The sounds of other people passing by and laughter from families on the ice being the only thing you can hear. Dean is looking to the ice, the crinkles around his eyes gone and you wish you hadn’t said anything just yet. You wish you could go back to a few minutes ago where things were brighter between the two of you.
Characters: Firefighter!Dean x Doctor!Reader, Firefighters!Cas and Benny, Nurse!Meg Masters, OFC’s
Word Count: ~2.5k
Warnings: more fluff, medical dramatization, some teasing (tbh it’s pretty mild still 🤣)
A/N: wheels are turning, things are moving 😌. If you’d like to join the Ablaze Taglist, let me know here!
Catch up on this series here -> Ablaze Masterlist
📸 cred: to the amazing @downanddirtydean for the firefighter Dean edit 😘 , and rightful owners
Dividers by: @talesmaniac89 & @firefly-graphics
Here’s my full Masterlist if you’d like to read more!☺️
Apparently, even after years of practically being isolated thanks to the career you chose, the romantic within you felt magic in the air. You’d quickly developed a crush. On your patient.
Dammit.
You lie awake, staring at the ceiling and counting the minutes until the alarm on your nightstand goes off. Taking yet another deep breath, you look over to the bright red numbers on the device.
4:35 A.M.
It’s been barely eight hours since you left the hospital and you’re already itching to go back. Just to check on my patients and get ahead on the research grant proposal, you try to convince yourself that your inability to sleep longer has nothing to do with a certain green-eyed fireman currently sleeping in your burn unit.
After five more minutes of tossing and turning, you give up and decide to start getting ready. Maybe you could use the extra time to put a tad more care into your look than usual. Not that you were a slob of any kind, but you weren’t exactly one to go the extra mile with makeup or doing anything with your hair involving much more than a simple ponytail.
Half an hour later, you’re sitting in your car, waiting for the cabin to warm up on this unusually cold Kansas morning. Once at the hospital, you try to control the urge to jog up to your floor, though the feat turns out to be harder than you thought since your feet seem to be power walking through the building of their own accord. You can’t even remember the last time you felt so anxious to see someone.
Well, you can, but those memories are better off repressed.
The elevator ding startles you as it indicates arrival to your floor. You walk past the night shift nurses, offering a smile and a meek “morning!” in response to their puzzled expressions. They’ve never seen you in the hospital before 6 a.m., after all.
You debate whether or not to start rounding on your patients, the residents had just started their own rounds but you rarely check on them this early so you don’t want to bother them any more than they’d already had to be by the younger doctors. Sitting at your desk, you work on your research proposal as well as look over patient charts.
At least, you try to. It’s difficult to focus when your gaze keeps wandering to the clock, waiting for the hands to indicate 6:30 so you can get up and check on Dean.
No. On all my patients.
Your leg shakes, and the moment the minute hand joins the hour hand on the clock, you’re out of your seat. Putting a protective gown over your white coat, you step into the sectioned off burn unit. You’re thankful to see that a majority of the rooms are unoccupied, as it indicates you’ll have far less people to check on than usual before you get to Dean’s room on the far end of the wing. Three patients later, you stop by a computer situated along the hallway to check on your reflection. You went with very light makeup, barely noticeable, but did decide to put a bit more effort to your ponytail today. Y/H/C strands arranged in lazy waves hung off the elastic, still simple but more elegant than your usual hair-barely-hanging-on updo.
A cough behind you alerts you to someone’s presence. Straightening up, you turn to see who it is and freeze when you’re met by a forest-green gaze. You feel a warmth creep up to your cheeks as you realize that the computer monitor you’d been using as a mirror was right across the way from Dean’s room and one of your idiot residents had left the curtain open.
Swallowing the Texas-sized lump in your throat, you walk into Dean’s room and try your best to look nonchalant. Difficult task when the handsome fireman breaks into a wide smirk, surely having figured out who you were fixing yourself up for.
“Mornin’, doc.” Dean’s smile grows even wider and he adds a wink for effect.
“Dean,” you reply calmly in an attempt to hide your embarrassment, “how are we feeling today?”
“Pretty good, though I’d feel better if you guys had better breakfast options. The jello didn’t really do it for me today.”
You chuckle, “right. I’ll have to talk to our chef about that for you, then. Anything else while I’m at it? Maybe you’d like some more pillows or a couple complimentary mimosas to improve your stay here?”
“Ha-ha, you joke but mimosas would be nice, actually.” Dean watches as you move around the room, making notes on an iPad.
“Yes, well, sorry to tell you, sir, but you’re here to heal, not to vacation.” You finish inputting his vitals information and move over to his bedside to check on the shoulder and arm you’d bandaged the night before.
Dean hisses as your hand comes into contact with the bandage, “obviously not. People don’t usually get woken up at the crack of dawn by a bunch of kids eager to poke and prod them.”
“Not a morning person, I take it?” you chuckle. While still sensitive, you see no immediate issues with the way his arm looks and feels.
Dean watches as you move around the room and check on his injuries. He has some not-so-witty retort which he quickly forgets as your fingertips dance along the skin of his arm. When he’d been woken up earlier by the residents, he’d found himself feeling disappointed that it was not you who had gone to check on him. It was an odd feeling and he’d attributed it to the unfamiliarity of the hospital. But now, seeing you in front of him, the way his stomach seems to be doing somersaults tells him that the disappointment was not that he doesn’t know anyone else in the hospital, but that he doesn’t want to know anyone else. He doesn’t want to be cared for, or touched by, anyone else. It’s a sudden, and somewhat scary, realization but the way you keep looking at him makes him feel that perhaps he’s not the only that feels a small connection here.
“Honestly, me neither,” you take his silence as affirmation as you finish inspecting his arm, “but the morning shifts are far better than the afternoons and infinitely more so than the graveyard shifts so here we are.”
You look up and freeze as you realize how close you got to him as you’d been checking on his shoulder. Dean’s face is but a couple inches away from your own, emerald eyes boring into your Y/E/C ones. Your heart is hammering against your chest, your throat dries. He draws in a breath and begins to say something but is quickly interrupted by the knock coming from the door.
Standing upright, you look back towards the door where nurse Meg Masters is standing. “Sorry to interrupt Dr. Y/L/N,” says Meg, “but it seems there’s a couple of firemen down at reception. They want to know if they can come up to see Mr. Winchester.”
“Oh, um, yeah… that’s fine. Just have them gown up and they can come in,” you stumble through your response, heart still racing from the moment you just had with your patient, “that is, of course, if you’re feeling up for it, Dean.”
“Yeah, that’s, uh, that’ll work.” Dean feels himself struggling to respond as well. He’s confused by what just happened. Though it wasn’t much, being close enough to you to smell the strawberry scent of your shampoo left him unexpectedly rattled.
Meg nods and turns, but not before giving you a knowing smile. As one of your few friends in the hospital, she knew you well enough to recognize the reason behind your flustered demeanor. Turning back to Dean, you muster up a small smile, “right, then. I’ll go help Nurse Masters get your friends ready to come in here. Back in a jiffy.”
You walk out of the room so fast, you’re almost positive you’ve left a fiery trail in your wake like they do in cartoons. Leaving the unit, you place the iPad you’d been using on a charger in the nurse’s station where Meg is sitting, a smirk plastered on her face.
“Y/L,” she drawls out your name.
“Yes, Meg?”
“How’s it going?”
You know what she means by the question but refuse to play her game, “just another day at the office.”
“Really? We’re going to play around like I didn't see what I just saw?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea of what you mean.” You lean on the counter of the station as you look at her, “after all, I was just checking on a patient.”
“Checking on a patient, or checking out a patient? There’s a difference, you know,” Meg chuckles.
You narrow your eyes at her, “I was doing no such thing, Masters. I was just-”
“Excuse me, doc. We’re looking for our partner, Dean Winchester. My name’s Benny, and this is Cas, we work with Dean. They told us down at reception to check up here.” A southern accent interrupts your response to Meg’s insinuation.
Looking over, you see two men, presumably firefighters, standing to your side. The one closest to you offers a kind smile, which you return as you reply, “of course. I’m Dr. Y/L/N, Dean’s doctor. They told us you’d be coming. Right this way.”
After shaking their hands, you guide the men to the entrance of the burn unit where you hand them their protective gowns.
“Is he okay? They told us he was fine yesterday,” says the fireman you presume to be Cas, looking suspiciously at the gown you’ve just handed him.
You smile reassuringly, “Dean’s doing great. Injuries were somewhat severe but already healing up nicely and he pulled through his treatment like a champ. This is just protocol to protect everyone in the burn unit, as well as yourselves.”
The men nod and quickly don the thin gowns, following you down the hallway to the end where Dean is. Upon seeing their friend, both men smile widely and enter the room.
“How you feelin’, brother?” says Benny. Dean’s face lights up as he talks to him and Cas and you head back to the nurse’s station. You see Meg, still waiting to talk about the moment from earlier, and decide to walk towards your office instead.
“Can’t run away from me forever, Y/N!” You hear Meg call after you, to which you simply turn and give a small salute before disappearing around the corner of the hallway.
She was right and you hate it. Though you wouldn’t admit anything to her quite yet, you can’t deny the fact that those five seconds were the most exciting thing to happen to you in a very long time. As a long-time friend of yours, someone who was there with you when… Well, Meg would understand why. Shaking the troubled memories of your past off, you walk into your office in hopes of returning to some normality work-wise.
A few hours pass and you continue staring at your computer screen, the one paragraph you’ve managed to write on your research mocking you in all its meek unglory.
Opting for stretching your legs, and hopefully giving some rest to your brain, you head down to the Emergency Room. Despite its reputation as a chaos-filled place, it’s where you can go and lose yourself in your work completely. Not that you get the chance often, but when you have spare time to lend a hand, it does wonders for your wellbeing.
Not much longer passes before you find yourself heading to the cafeteria for a quick lunch before heading back up to your floor. Stepping out of the elevator, you catch a glimpse of a small family being gowned and accompanied by your boss into the burn unit. It's a couple, and two young children, one of which is carrying a small dog plush wearing a bow on its neck.
“Hey Meg, who are those people?”
Meg looks up from her computer, “the family? They’re here for your new favorite patient.”
Her smirk causes you to roll your eyes. You’d argue with her statement but there are more pressing issues at the moment, “ignoring that; they’re here for Dean?”
“Looks like it’s the family he helped save yesterday.”
“Oh… that explains why the Chief went in there with them. I better head in, just in case.” You walk into the wing, arriving at the door of Dean’s room just in time to see one of the little girls hand the dog plush to Dean.
“This is from Peanut, he says thank you,” the girl mumbles.
Dean’s smile lights up the room and you can’t help the swelling in your chest at the image. Standing just outside, you watch as the family continues thanking Dean. Funnily enough, he seems more shy than he has been since you met, almost as if he’s not used to being thanked or praised and it makes you wonder why.
After the family has said their goodbyes, your boss walks them out and you take the chance to check on Dean. The plush dog looks even smaller in his hands and you have to work overtime to suppress the schoolgirl squeal threatening to escape your chest.
“See? Heroic.” Dean looks up from the plush to find you leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.
“I guess,” he whispers.
“We doing okay? You’ve had an exciting day.”
“Yeah, I just feel a little tired.” Dean places the plush on the stand next to his bed. You were about to suggest a walk to get his limbs moving but seeing him now, you decide perhaps a nap is what he needs.
Pushing off the door frame, you walk to his side and place a hand on the bed just next to his leg, “why don’t you rest for a bit? I’ll come back in a few hours and we can go for a walk. You’re doing really great and there’s a great little food cart that comes to the courtyard. They have the best fruit salads around.”
The way Dean’s nose scrunches up makes you laugh. He shakes his head adamantly, “I’ll take you up on the walk but I think I’ll stick to the jello for now.”
“Deal, I’ll be back for you in a couple hours then.” You turn to leave and look back at him, the heat returning to your cheeks as he grins your way, a spark of something you can’t quite place visible in his eyes.
