Dean Winchester Imagines

cuddles

Warning: Swearing, fluff

The Bunker was quiet. Which made sense considering the fact that everyone was asleep except for you and you were bored as hell. The boys and you had just gotten back from a rough hunt, with a group of vamps that you all took out. Luckily no one had been seriously injured, but as soon as the problem was taken care of, Dean was hell bent on sleeping on his own bed. Therefore, he made both you and Sam pack your shit from the motel and get in the car, making the long drive from Virginia to home. You softly padded through the library, a glass of whiskey on the rocks in hand in hopes that it’d make you somewhat sleepy.

You had known the Winchester’s for a very long time. Growing up alongside Sammy, Bobby Singer raising you since your parents died on a hunt they were on. It certainly wasn’t a life you would have picked for yourself, but it was in your blood. Ever since you were born, it was only bound to happen. That you would pick up a knife, that you would have your own favorite gun, etc. You had hunted with Dean as soon as you were able to leave Bobby’s. With Sam leaving the hunting life for Stanford, and John Winchester going solo, Bobby had suggested the idea to you on a warm summer night. You were surprised that your adoptive father would even suggest you leaving, but he assured you that it was because of his trust in Dean, that if you really wanted to- you could go. And ever since then you were joined at the hip with the eldest Winchester brother. Not that you minded.

You couldn’t help but smile softly at the memory. Somehow, you found yourself standing in front of Dean’s bedroom door. You hesitantly pushed the door open, peeking inside only to find him passed out and sprawled all over his bed, a soft snore escaping his lips. God he was so fucking beautiful.

“Dean?” You whispered, kneeling next to him. His eyes fluttered slightly, a groan of annoyance escaping his lips as he rolled over to the other side, hugging the pillow tighter.  “C’mon Dean,” You gently ran your hand through his short hair, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as he swatted your hand away.

“What do you want?” His voice thick with sleep sent a jolt down your spine, a blush appearing on your cheeks at how rough it was.

“Um, I – never mind. Go back to sleep,” You quickly picked up your glass of whiskey before heading towards the door. How stupid were you? Dean never showed any signs of interest towards you, why would he help you try to sleep? Or stay up with you so you weren’t lonely? Your hand grasped the door knob.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong? Get back here,” He called out, sounding more awake as he watched you with those green eyes, full of concern. You were so fucking tired, but for the life of you – you couldn’t seem to fall asleep, and that frustrated the hell out of you. “Sweetheart, tell me.”

“I can’t sleep. I – I don’t know I just hoped that maybe … never mind. I’ll just go with Sam or something. I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t want to bother you,” A lump formed in your throat as your cheeks burned with embarrassment. He quickly shook his head, turning on the soft lamp light by his bed before opening the covers, a silent invitation for you to climb in. He wore a black t-shirt along with some sweatpants, his hair was a mess. You slowly made your way towards the bed, your lips trembled slightly. It was just one of those nights that seemed as if everything about you, was shit. Your chest was heavy with the overwhelming feeling of emotions you wanted to suppress. You set the glass down on the floor after you downed the rest of the liquor quickly. Sliding underneath the covers, Dean gently cradled you to him, one arm throw around your waist, and the other tracing your facial features lightly.

“You’re okay. I got you. Don’t ever think you could bother me, alright?” He watched you intently, making sure you were understanding what he was saying. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before tucking you underneath his chin, a soft humming coming from his chest. The familiar notes of ‘Hey Jude’ made you laugh slightly. Gripping his t-shirt, you shut your eyes and relished in the comfort that was Dean Winchester. “Get some shut eye, Y/N. Tomorrow we can go to your favorite coffee shop in town for breakfast, okay?” You nodded slightly, a sigh of relief escaping your lips before resting your head against his warm chest. His words nearly bringing you to tears. Dean wasn’t one to go into town unless it was for a grocery run. This was your heaven. Dean never asked questions until he was sure you were well rested and emotionally ready enough to talk about whatever it was that bothered you. And maybe that was the thing you loved most about him. He understood you. Knew when you needed a hug and when you needed your space. He never pushed you for answers and was always there to be your best friend. And that was enough for now.