SPN One Shots... (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Sensory Overload (Autistic!reader)

Warnings: autistic!reader, autism, mentions/implied hyperfixation, anxiety, separation anxiety, ADHD, sensory issues related to autism, stimming, a little angst, a little pining, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling/kissing, mostly fluff

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You snuggled more into the comforters, wrapping Dean's pillow tighter around your head to block out the cacophony of sounds in the bunker. The high-pitched buzz of the fluorescent lights in the hallway mixed with the constant droning sound of the ventilation system, but neither compared to the silence of your cell phone.

You called the boys fifteen and a half times in the past hour, but still no answer. You were worried, terrified you missed something in the lore that could've led to their demise, because why else haven't they picked up yet. Dean always called you when they finished a hunt with praises on your research skills, you saved their asses plenty of times without even being in the line of fire.

Your forte was in the books, you knew everything about everything, hunters from all parts of the country looked to you for information on vamps, ghouls, djinns, shifters, ghosts, demons, wendigos... You name it, you knew it, and you loved it, spending your days in the library; but sometimes you got a little lost in it and that's when having the boys around really helped.

Dean especially was great at drawing your focus, usually after he'd just tried a new recipe in the kitchen and needed a taste-tester. You didn't have the heart to tell him that most of his 'masterpieces' were mostly inedible, though he did make incredible chocolate chip cookies and apple pie. He made those most often.

You wondered if you'd ever get to taste those again, if the boys would come walking in that bunker door any time soon, if you missed something in the lore. But you had scanned the pages too many times to have missed anything. Something else must've gone wrong.

You couldn't remember how long ago it was that you curled up in Dean's bed. You weren't supposed to be there, you never crawled into his bed unless he was already in it and you couldn't sleep. You started to cry, not heavily, just one or two tears that escaped as you started to rock back and forth and back-

The lights in the room flicked on. You didn't open your eyes until a pair of strong hands pried yours off the edges of Dean's pillow. You met the gaze of the green eyed man of whom you'd come so accustomed to. You've only lived with them for a year now and your diagnosis had never come up, but you couldn't avoid it now, not anymore. Not that you were avoiding it, it just never came up.

You looked away and sat up in his bed. You glanced around at the state his room was in. Dean liked things tidy and you'd made a mess of it. His clothes were thrown over every square inch of his bedroom floor. You glanced back at him, he looked tired but you didn't think he looked angry.

"Before you say anything, I'm sorry!" You blurted out, wiping your cheeks dry.

"Okay," Dean eyed the mess, "You wanna tell me why you look so guilty?"

"You didn't answer your phone, you always answer your phone. I got worried. I'm sorry." You hugged yourself and squinted at the bright lights, "C-can you turn those off, please?"

Dean nodded and turned on the bedside lamp, then flicked off the switch for the ceiling lights. You started to relax slightly in the more dim setting, especially now that you knew he was okay. You sucked in a slow breath not wanting to completely lose it in front of him. How long have you been there? You didn't know and hugged his pillow to your chest.

"Better?" He asked, you nodded, "Were you asleep?" You shook your head and tugged on the trim of the pillow case, "What's wrong, Y/N?"

"I-I was worried," you said, you knew he was looking at you but you couldn't meet his eyes. "Y-you didn't answer your phone."