Supernatural One Shots

Well, That Escalated Quickly (Dean x Reader) s/f

You can tell it's about to happen. You wake up in bed next to Dean, feeling the slight ache in the joints of your hips, knees, and ankles. There's about thirty minutes before the pain sets in. Gotta get ready.

Trying not to wake Dean, you get out of bed and head to the grungy bathroom of the grungy motel you're staying in. You brush your teeth then take the max amount of generic pain pills which probably won't work. Then you shower. Comfortable clothes are a necessity when this happens, so you put on sweatpants and a soft t-shirt. By the time you're putting on your socks, the pain is already much worse.

You go back into the main room. The curtain isn't all the way closed, so some light seeps through. It's late morning. You all went to bed really late, or early; it depends. Sam's in the somewhat sectioned off kitchen, making coffee. He turns to look at you, hearing your light footsteps. "Hey, (y/n)."

"Hey."

Sam turns back to the coffeemaker, but then glances back at you, his eyebrows scrunched together. "You okay?"

You were walking slowly, shuffling back to the bed. "No, yeah, it's just that joint thing again." He raises his eyebrows. "I'll be fine. I just need to get back in bed. And not move." Your lips twitch into a slight smile and try not to grimace.

When you reach the bed, you position the pillow so that you'll be somewhat sitting up when you get in bed. You stand there and look at the bed for a second. It's almost waist high, which means you'll have to lift you leg which will hurt a lot. But you suck it up and maneuver yourself onto the bed, biting your lip. You settle into the most comfortable position possible. You grab a lore book from the side of the bed and start reading.

Soon, you realize that your eyes have been scanning the page, but you haven't been reading anything. The pain is so bad that you can't concentrate. Sam walks over to the bed then and asks "Do you want anything? Coffee? I made enough for everyone. I'm going to go out and getting breakfast too."

You hate asking for things, but still. "Yeah, coffee, and, uh, some breakfast. I'll have what Dean always gets. You know what he gets, right?"

"Yeah; Dean never changes." You both laugh. "I'll get the coffee." Sam goes back into the tiny kitchen, fills a cup with coffee and puts sugar and cream in it, and brings it back to you. You take it, thankful for the warmth it brings to your fingertips. It's freezing in the room.

Embarrassed, you ask, "Sam, can you put the blanket over my legs? I can't reach it without moving."

"That bad, huh?" Sam asks, pulling up the blanket. You don't respond.

About ten minutes after Sam leaves, Dean wakes up. He stretches and rolls over, looking up at you. "Hey," he says in his sleepy voice. He's so adorable right after he wakes up (see above picture).

"Hey, babe." You smile, trying to hide the pain. If the meds were going to work, they already would have.

He props himself up on his elbow, looking at you suspiciously. "What did you do?"

"What?" You're genuinely confused.

"You have that look." He gestures vaguely. "We've been together long enough for me to know when you're lyin'."

"Yeah, okay." You sigh, and sink further in the bed. "You know that weird joint pain-ache thing?"

"That again?" You nod. He sits all the way up in the bed and kisses your cheek. He leans back. "How bad is it? Scale of one to ten."