Dean x Reader One Shots

Vacation (Fluff) (Imagine forcing Dean to take a vacation with you)

Title: Vacation [vey-key-shuh n, vuh-], noun. A period of suspension of work, study, or other activity, usually used for rest, recreation, or travel; recess or holiday.

Summary: Imagine forcing Dean to take the first vacation of his life.

Word Count: 5,868 (I'm sorry it's such a long beast)

Dean grumbled when you dug your fingertips into his shoulders, his tense muscles apparently causing him just as much pain as they caused your thumbs. You knew your way around the muscles after having spent the earlier years of your life in school to be a masseuse, but this was a whole new level of tense, even for you. Dean let out a small whine when you took your elbow and pressed it against one of the knots in a rather vigorous attempt to get it out, to which you rolled your eyes.

"Well I've been telling you that you need to take it easy so this is what you get." Your voice had an especially stressed quality to it because of the mad physical exertion it took for you to massage Dean and you cleared your throat, adding, "Are you even relaxing right now?"

Dean, who had been laying on his back on the ground beside his bed, turned his head so that his right cheek was pressed to the ground, a nice switch up that showed you how red his left cheek was after having been the one pressed to the floor for so long. You straightened your back and took your weight off of Dean's lower back, which you had been sitting on while attempting to be rid of the ridiculous knots in his shoulders, and heard him sigh when your weight was shifted.

"If I relax any more I'm going to be dead, Y/N," he mumbled out, bringing a hand to rub his eye before he turned his head even more to get a decent look at you. "I told you that you don't need to do this, I'll be fine."

"You've been having headaches."

"I've also been under stress."

"Your shoulders are like rocks, Dean," you rubbed your palm on his right shoulder in an attempt to show how tense he was. "Tense muscles can cause tension headaches, and when you wake up in the morning with a tension headache, I'm the one that needs to deal with it."

Dean pressed his cheek back to the ground and chuckled. "Well grinding my muscles to hamburger doesn't seem to be helping."

"You're not relaxing."

"Tell me how I'm supposed to relax?" His voice was sharp and he raised his head to look at you a moment before fully rotating until he was laying on his side; you were forced to pick up your right leg and sit beside him when he rolled, leaving you sitting with your feet tucked below your butt, Dean laying on his side in front of you with his stomach inches in front of your knees. He propped his elbow up and supported his head with his hand, "How exactly am I supposed to channel my muscles to relax even more than I already am?"

"Well it wouldn't hurt to take a day off for once." You mumbled the words, your eyes dropping to your knees while your hands began to play with themselves on your lap and Dean laughed at your words, pushing himself up until he was sitting on his knees in front of you. You looked up at him, at the stupid, smug, and dubious grin on his face and you wanted to smack it right off him (in the most kind and loving way).

"Right," he nodded once and hopped to his feet, evidently done with whatever massage he was going to have gotten before. He held his hands down and grabbed yours, pulling you to your feet and wrapping his arms around your waist, his nose only inches from yours when he narrowed his eyes and whispered, "If I didn't know you any better, I would hear that suggestion and think you didn't know me at all."

"Vacation isn't all bad, you know."

He smirked. "We don't get vacations."

"You don't give yourself vacations."