SPN Imagines... (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Dean Not Wanting To Sleep Alone

"Oh... yess..." you sighed in relief, flopping down on Sam's bed in the motel room the three of you were sharing.

"What are you doing?" Dean questioned, pulling off his jacket and throwing it over the back of one of the chairs.

"Sammy's not the only one getting lucky tonight," you groaned, rolling over onto your stomach to face him.

"Excuse me."

"Mm, I haven't had a whole bed to myself in weeks," you beamed, sprawling out and stretching your sore muscles.

"Oh-"

"What?" You asked, sitting up and watching as Dean sat on the end of his bed, slowly tugging off his boots.

"Nothin', just I thought you said you slept better when you weren't alone." He shrugged, giving you a sidelong glance.

He should've been happy to get the bed to himself especially since you were a cuddler and often woke up tangled in the sheets with him. Most of the time in a pool of your own drool on his chest. He never mentioned not liking it but you had caught him staring at the ceiling many times in the early morning while you crowded him; his thumb absentmindedly rubbing at the bare skin of your shoulder.

"I'm not alone, you'll still be here in the bed next to me." You explained with a small smile, one that he barely returned as he nodded and sighed.

"Yeah..." Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You want the first shower?"

"Nope, I'm good. You go for it." You insisted, jumping up to dig through your duffle bag in the corner of the room, Dean making his way into the bathroom.

You ran hot most nights, usually when you slept next to Dean. He omitted heat like an oven. So, you mostly wore thin tank tops and underwear to bed. But tonight would be different, you were finally getting to wear this pair of fluffy fleece pyjamas pants you'd picked up on a whim at a shop while tailing a suspect on a case months ago. They were grey with a pattern of cartoon stars on them and the softest material you'd ever felt. No way you weren't sleeping like a baby tonight.

You were too exhausted to stay awake for your turn in the bathroom and wound up falling asleep well before Dean emerged freshly showered. In fact, it wasn't until the wee hours of the night that you woke up to a whimpering coming from the bed next to you.

In the glow of the TV you saw Dean fisting the sheets as he writhed in fear, muttering what sounded like your name a couple of times. You waited a moment until he settled down, knowing he was having a nightmare and that you'd probably caused it by not sleeping next to him. He hadn't had one in months and you were so excited over having your own bed that you'd completely forgotten about it.

"Dean?" You whisper shouted and to your surprise he was already awake, barely.

"Uh-huh."

"You awake?"

"Mhm."

"You alright?" You asked, facing him and propping yourself up on your elbow.

"I'm always alright, Y/N," he exhaled heavily, probably still winding down from the nightmare. You didn't ask him about it, knowing he would just brush you off anyways; he never liked talking about them.

"Can't sleep?" You pressed.

"Not really," he sighed again and rolled over onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes.

"De? I'm kinda cold," you lied.

"Do you wanna-"

"Yes," you jumped out of bed and Dean pulled back the comforters for you to crawl in.

You plopped down next to him and threw your arm across his chest, shuffling your body closer until there was no space between you two. Your head resting on his shoulder when he craned his neck to peck a kiss to your forehead.

"Good?"

"Yeah. Guess I'm just used to having my own personal hot water bottle." You giggled, playing it up a bit when in reality his body heat was already making your legs sweat in your fluffy pyjama pants.

"What are you wearing?" He chuckled, his bare legs tangling with yours.

"Fluffy pants. They're really soft, don't cha think?" You beamed, Dean moving his leg to feel the material again.

"Yeah, but I think you're softer without them." He kissed the crown of your head and your breath caught for a moment at his confession. "Night, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, De." You whispered, wiggling for a moment to get comfortable.

He was out cold within a few minutes, clinging to you with his large meaty palms on your waist as if you would try to get away. You wiped the sweat from your upper lip on his t-shirt, feeling the soft even thud of his heart beneath your cheek. You closed your eyes. There'd be no more nightmares tonight.