Supernatural fan-fic, Imagines, fluff, range from short to long stories, I'm just getting the ideas out of my head and on paper per se. I'm a Dean girl, but a bit Sam curious, with a little craving for Luci. I'll post as often as the stories come.
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Love wasn't something that was supposed to be meant for him. It certainly wasn't something he ever felt he deserved. His entire life he was made to feel that he wasn't good enough, that he was a waste of space, that he was a failure. He failed to save John, failed to save Sam countless times. How many people had died because he wasn't strong enough?
Raised to think that emotions were weakness, a vulnerability. It would be better if Dean shut off his emotions. Stomped them into ashes, swallowing them down deep to never see the light of day, but in moments he was alone sometimes they just slipped out regardless. Sometimes it was because he missed Mary, others because of John. A few times the weight of everything, the hunting, the fighting just became too much.
When you came along he couldn't quite figure out why he hated you so much. Wondered why he wanted to be as far away from you as possible. Dean kept trying to justify that it was because he believed you weren't cut out for the life of a hunter despite being raised as one. He thought you were too sweet, too kind, too bubbly at times.
It was your smile that irritated him the most. Always smiling even in the darkest of moments. Covered in blood, bruised and battered, and yet you still smiled. Broken bones and almost meeting your end and still you smiled. It drove him insane until he realized why he hated your smile so much.
Standing in his bathroom mirror after weeks on the road, littered with new scars. He glared at his reflection despising himself and the things he had to do with their job but then he smiled to see if he could fake being okay for when Sammy would eventually come knocking on his door for food. Staring right back at him was the same smile. The same damned 'I'm dying inside but I'll keep lying and tell everyone I'm fine' smile you wore all the time.
It took him a hot minute to understand that he never hated you at all, he hated that he saw himself in you. Hated that you put up the same walls, the same facade. Hated that you told the same lies, repeated the same old 'I'm fine', and 'I'm okay' to everyone that asked. Hated that you drank the pain away like he did. Worst of all he hated that you must have felt the same about love as he did.
Dean spent too much of his life lonely, feeling unwanted, not needed, unseen. He used to say it never bothered him but over time he realized what loneliness was. Realized that at the end of the day when he had bullshit he wanted to talk about and no one to talk with.
He wanted to talk music and movies and debate the best pies or how he found this one recipe that he was dying to try just because they had the kitchen in the bunker. Loneliness was wanting to talk but there was never anyone there because he'd pushed them all away. He crossed his fingers and silently prayed that that wasn't how you felt too because you of all people didn't deserve that.
It started slow and inconspicuous. Bringing you a beer, or snacks. Stopping at the places you liked to eat on the road even though he thought their food sucked. He'd let you get into the shower first even if you used all the hot water. He almost thought he gave it all away when he let you drive Baby, but you just smiled and took the keys. Speeding down the backroads with the music blaring while he watched from the passenger seat.
When your smile seemed heavy, like it was too much to hold up he paid attention to the music you were listening to trying to decypher how you were honestly feeling by the song you repeated on your playlist. He studied how hard you worked to keep your mind busy but every time you smiled he could see you were screaming inside.
Dean waited until there was a quiet moment in the Bunker. Sam had gone out to who knows where because he hadn't been listening. He could hear you in the kitchen, hear the speaker thumping out your true mood. Feelings you'd never utter aloud. The sandwiches you were making were ignored on the countertop as you swayed from side to side humming along to the song. A song you'd listened to so often he had the words memorized, felt the words deep down in his bones, shattering any walls he'd rebuilt around himself.
The comfort of the Bunker was enough to let your guard down never thinking he was standing behind you, watching you. Listening to the words tumble out of your mouth set every part of him on fire. He could already feel the mistiness in his eyes, feel himself getting choked up knowing the lyrics were words you'd never utter out loud.
"I'm a lost cause, baby don't waste your time on me. I'm so damaged beyond repair. Life has shattered my hopes and my dreams."
You didn't flinch when spun you around. Didn't make a peep when he pulled you flush to him burying his face in your neck. An arm snug around your waist, the other in a delicate hold at the base of your head. He led the two of you in a dance around the kitchen, slowed steps he wanted to shake those thoughts from your mind.
He almost crumbled the moment you held him back, let your fingers wander, and dug in hugging him tightly. You made him think of all the things he believed he didn't deserve, you made him want them. You made him want to want love and it scared the hell out of him. Dean wanted to feel what he'd been missing out on, show you what you should have had. He kept you two dancing long after the song had ended, long after silence had filled the room.
"You know all that 'you can't love someone til you love yourself' bullshit they preach in those daytime talk shows?" He didn't know where he was going with his words, it wasn't the speech he'd practiced in his head time and time again. "Never loved myself, ever, but then you. You came along and I started to forget what hating myself felt like."
He wasn't sure what else to say, if he should just blurt it out but then you smiled at him. He knew the moment you flashed those pearly whites. Knew the second your eyes crinkled that that smile was different, that it was special. It was as if even the air in the room was lighter. The weight of the world, of the past, seemed to disappear.
You watched the glint appear in his eyes, shiny emeralds staring back at you. Thousands of freckles danced across his skin as he grinned. It was boyish and charming and unlike all the times he'd smiled in months. Cheek to cheek he kept leading a silent dance across the kitchen floor listening to the sound of heart thumping in tandem with his.
