Supernatural imagines

Dean Winchester - Music

Music. One of the few things that Dean Winchester could talk about all day.

You learned that pretty fast after you met the boys. Whenever you are driving in the Impala, Dean gets to choose the music. Because he is the driver and the rule says that the driver picks the music. Or that is at least what Dean told you. 

At first it was a bit confusing for you to only hear rock but you quickly started to like that style. You often found yourself nodding or tipping your foot to the bass of Dean's music and when you knew the text you sang along. When you were alone you often changed the station to some channel that played rock. You really had to admit that Dean had a great taste in music. It was old music, sure, but that did not mean it was too old to listen to it. 

Sometimes you searched through Dean's music collection. Your fingers drew over the titles of the tapes. Most of them were bought but you even found some that had to be put together by Dean himself. The black handwritten titles on the front of the tapes were neatly written down, as if Dean did really pay attention to make it look nice. You could not blame him for that. You remembered having some old tapes and CDs that you had put together and you also wanted them to look nice because you had put so much effort in choosing the right titles and bringing them to the tape. But you rarely found any CDs or mp3 tracks in Dean's collection. He once told you that most of it had belonged his father and because he hardly bought any new music the collection consisted nearly entirely of tapes. Not that it bothered you. 

When Dean found out that you really enjoyed listening to his music he had an excuse to give you a walkman as a birthday present. At first you were sceptical but you used it a lot. When you can not find sleep at night or when the boys needed silence to sleep and recover from the last hunt you used it. Or when you were in public and you had the urge to listen to some music. It turned out to be a great present.

Dean also made it a habit to show you new music sometimes. Everytime you thought you had listened to his whole collection he gave you a new tape to listen to.

And so you were not surprised as you heard Dean call your name one day and you could hear the excitement in his voice as he came into the room. You laid down the book you were reading and looked at the bouncing figure of Dean. He held something in his hand but you could not see what it was because he was waving it around in his excitement.

"Dean. Calm down, honey," you smiled at his childish behaviour.

"(y/n)! I found another one. It's one of the self made ones with mixed music. I just listened to it and it's amaazing!," 

You giggled about Dean's behaviour and the way he pronounced the second 'a' to stress how good it was. Sometimes he really was a child. 

Dean held out the tape to you and you grabbed it. 

"I'm gonna listen to it later," you promised. 

"Now."

"What?"

"You're gonna listen to it now," Dean insisted. You rolled your eyes. 

"Dean, I was reading before you came in. Let me finish this chapter and then I'll listen to it, deal?"

Dean looked at you with big eyes, as if he was trying to imitate Sam's puppy eyes. You broke out in laughter.

"Dean, no one can do the puppy eyes except for Sam," you said still laughing.

Dean sulked to show you his disapproval but eventually mumbled: "Okay," before leaving the room again.

You rolled your eyes, still laughing, before you picked up you book again and continued reading.

After finishing the chapter you went to your room to listen to the tape Dean gave you, as you promised. You had to admit that Dean was right. The tape was good. The perfect mix.

You listened to it for the next few days and you seemed to like it even more everytime you listened to it. 

When you told Dean he was incredibly happy and hugged you tightly. You could just wonder how a man could get that happy and excited just because you liked his taste in music.

One morning, Sam and Dean had returned from an exhausting hunt the night before, you woke up before Dean and decided to make breakfast for the two of you and Sam. As you made your way to the kitchen you hummed some tunes frome the tape Dean gave you earlier. When you reached your destination you turned on the radio. You noticed that said tape was playing. With a smile on your lips you began to search everything you would need for making pancakes. Because you knew that the boys loved your pancakes.

While stirring the batter you sang along to the playing songs, your hips swinging in the tact of the bass. With each minute your dancing got wilder and wilder until you ended up spinning around in the kitchen, happily singing to each song that played. You did not notice that you were watched. 

Dean leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed in front of his chest and observed you. He had a smile on his lips as his eyes followed every movement of yours. He watched carefully as you poured the batter into the pan without stopping to swing in tact. He smiled as you took the pan and swang it to turn the pancake around while singing along, holding your breath for one millisecond because you thought the pancake would fall down and then singing even louder as you managed to flip it successfully.

Dean waited until you placed it on a plate before he slowly stepped behind you and placed his hands on your hips.

You let out a sound of surprise and spun around. But when you looked into those familiar green eyes you relaxed immediately. 

"I didn't know that you were up yet. You looked like you would sleep for at least a thousand years," you giggled.

"I thought so, too. But then I woke up to some very good music and a certain smell," he said, his voice still hoarse from not being used for hours when he slept. But you could still make out a smile on his face.

"Sorry. I didn't meant to wake you," you smiled sheepishly.

"You know what?", Dean asked. He pulled you close so that your head rested on his chest. He then leaned his chin on top of it.

"This is even better than sleeping for years. My favourite person on earth listening and dancing to my favourite music while making pancakes, which are, by the way, my favourite breakfast."

"I thought your favourite breakfast was bacon? You never said you liked pancakes that much."

Dean began to gently swing to the tact of the music so that you two were dancing to classic rock, still in pajamas.

"That's because you barely make them. Your pancakes are my favourite, (y/n). Sam always manages to either burn them or he serves them half raw. His pancakes suck."

You giggled and leaned even more in his embrace, wanting this moment to never end.

"I heard that," a known voice destroyed the moment. You spun around to see Sam, his hair standing in every possible dirction. He clearly also just got out of bed.

"You two are really cute and all but I smell pancakes and I'm freaking hungry."

You laughed and after Dean gave you a last kiss on your forehead you went back to the oven to make pancakes for the two hungry brothers.

//AN:

Yeah another one with Dean. I just wanted to write something to appreciate his great taste in music (:

This chapter is a bit shorter but the next one will be longer again xD I think it'll be the longest so far xD

Thanks so much for 50+ reads by now. I'm so happy about that :D

I still apologise if you find any mistakes. Please tell me, I'd be very thankful.

And if you have any ideas feel free to send me those. I'd love to write some of your requests (:

So yeah, I hope you have a fantastic day/week/month/year/life :D

Bye~