TRIGGER WARNING - I'll be putting this preference (and any others that I feel could be triggering to some) under a read more. Please read at your own discretion.
Warnings: Mentions of Social Anxiety. Mentions of Perfectionism. Mentions of Insomnia. Mentions of Self-Doubt. Mentions of Rejection Fears. Mentions of Atelophobia.
-Robyn x (P.S: If You Need Anyone To Talk To Um Here Cause I Know How It Feels To Have Anxiety x) ———————
Dean: (Social Anxiety)
Let's be honest... Dean Winchester is not the type of man who fears being noticed.He doesn't mind when the spotlight is on him, or if someone is blatantly stroking his ego, and in all honesty, he doesn't really give a damn about whether or not people are judging him.
This, however, does not mean he won't try to understand the logic behind your constant, gut-wrenching anxiety towards everything social.
From the very beginning of your relationship, Dean has been extraordinarily considerate of your social anxiety. He doesn't force you into anything, and always has an exit planned for when you make the rare decision to go out for a night on the town. When he notices you becoming uncomfortable even in the slightest, Dean never fails to take you by the hand, and pull you away from the crowd, starting an engaging conversation in order to distract you from your surroundings.
...and when you ask for him to take you home?
Dean is always quick to act, whisking you into the Impala, and racing towards the bunker, enthusing you about his excitement for the newest episode of 'Dr. Sexy M.D.'
You still have yet to understand his strange obsession for that show...
"Are you doin' alright over there, [Y/N]?" he would ask, watching out of the corner of his eye as you pulled your legs up onto the leather passenger's seat. "You feelin' any better?"
"Much." you responded simply, before clearing your throat, and glancing in the green-eyed man's direction. "I'm sorry about all of this... this hassle, Dean." Rubbing at your forehead, you nervously ran your fingers through your hair, guilt rolling off of your shoulders in huge waves. "I know that you were excited to go out tonight."
"Don't worry about it, babe." he encouraged, dancing his nimble fingers over the leather seat to land on your knee. "It's alright, I don't mind." Reaching down to clasp at his hand, you stared out of the windshield, noting a large gust of wind as trees shook in the distance. "I'd much rather be alone with you, than in some crummy bar."
"Yeah...but..." you began, your voice seeming to fade as you turned to look at the older of the two Winchester brothers. "I just feel like I bring this... this darkness into your already pitch-black world, Dean."
"Don't say that, babe." he insisted, his eyes filling with an underlying sadness. "You know that's not true." Shifting on the seat, you glanced down at your feet, waiting for him to continue. "Shit... what's that saying?" he wondered aloud, trying to pull his thoughts together. "Oh. Right. 'It's on the darkest nights that the stars shine at their brightest.'" he finished gently, obviously pleased that he had remember the quote.
"...and you're my brightest star, [Y/N]."
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