Dean X Male Reader One Shots

Hushabye Baby

A shrill cry echoes through the house and Dean sits up in bed. He rubs his eyes and looks over to your side of the bed. You aren't there. He scratches his head. He could've sworn that you'd gotten up to get the baby. He throws off the covers and pads towards the nursery. The baby continues to cry and Dean coos at her as he walks into the room.

"You're ok. You're ok. Are you hungry?" He picks her up, cuddling her close. He hushes her, rocking slightly. He heads for the kitchen to make a fresh bottle. He still hasn't seen any sign of you which is odd and several alarm bells in his head start ringing. He turns lights on in the kitchen and begins to make a fresh bottle, juggling keeping the baby entertained and still keeping an ear out for you. He makes the bottle and heads out of the kitchen turning off the light with his elbow.

He settles into his and Claire's favorite rocking chair in the nursery. He gives her her bottle, staring at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling that you insisted on putting on. He rocks gently as she suckles gently on her bottle, her eyes slowly slipping shut. He sets the empty bottle on the end table and stands slowly. He gently sets Claire back in her crib, tucking her favorite blanket around her. He makes sure the baby monitor is on and slips out, turning on the mobile before he leaves. He shuts the door softly and goes on the hunt for you. His bare feet on the hardwood are the only sound beside the ticking of the clock. He looks in the living room, where the curtains are blowing softly in the summer breeze.

"Babe? Are you in here?" Dean stands in the middle of the foyer, scratching his head. Maybe he couldn't sleep and went for a walk. Something is still triggering his Spidey-Senses. He grabs the baby monitor out of your bedroom. He walks back to the living room and sits down on the couch He turns the volume on low on the tv and waits for you. He eventually falls asleep his arm pillowed under his head and a black and white western playing on the tv. The baby monitor goes off with Claire's cries some unknown amount of hours later. Dean hears something else other than Clarie's cries. You screaming. He sprints for the nursery and finds the door wide open. When he crosses the nursery doorway Claire's cries stop and she begins cooing. Dean tilts his head at this. Something is wrong here. He picks Claire up, noticing a drop of something dark on her forehead. She stares at the ceiling transfixed by something. He wipes it off, bringing it to his nose. The substance smells distinctly metallic. Her gaze is still glued to the ceiling so he looks up as well. His heart drops into his feet and gorge rises in his throat. There you are, eyes full of fear. Stuck to the ceiling, a large gash across your stomach drips blood into the crib.

"Dean," Your voice is faint barely a whisper. "Take her and run." Your body bursts into flames and Dean bolts from the nursery. Claire's cries ring in his eyes as he bursts from the front door and watches his house burn down along with his only love.

"Dean! Dean honey wake up! It's just a dream!" Dean wakes up in a cold sweat, reaching for the weapon underneath his pillow. He needs something, anything, to anchor him. To tell him that it was only a dream and that you are ok and so is the baby. You are standing on his side of the bed holding Claire a sickly worried look on your face. Dean sighs and lays back, his clothes sticking to him.

"It was just a dream," He whispers to himself reassuringly. "It was just a dream." You sit down in the bed, snuggling Claire close. "Can I-" He stops, a hard lump in his throat. "Can I hold her? Just-" You hand her over with a sympathetic look and your heart swells with love as you watch Dean cuddle the baby close. His eyes roam over her, the mental checklist in his head slowly being ticked off one by one.

"You ok hon?" He looks up from the baby and his face tells all. He won't ever be ok. He'll always have that fear. It will always be there lurking over his shoulder. You lay your head on his shoulder and you both gaze at Claire. She gurgles oblivious and adorable.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"I won't make you."