The Voice Says I’m Almost Out Of Minutes

#65. “No, we’re not getting a puppy for Christmas. Stop. Asking.”

Dean x Reader

“No, we’re not getting a puppy for Christmas. Stop. Asking. The answer’s always gonna be no.”

Dean sits down at the kitchen table, the mug of coffee warm in his hand, and casts a final glare at his brother, making sure he understood once and for all there’s not gonna be a puppy wandering the halls of the bunker any time soon. Sam has always hinted at the idea of a dog, but lately he just won’t drop it. And Dean just knows that if Jack gets wind of this, or you do, he’s going to be overpowered.

Sam knows it, too. He can barely hide his victorious smile when you step into the kitchen a minute later. Dean can see it, can read the plan on his face, but he’s too late. Sam is already opening his mouth. “Hey. We were just talking about getting a dog. What do you think?”

You freeze by the coffee pot and turn around, eye them both for a grand total of two seconds before scoffing. “Yeah, right.”

“Jack is already on board. Are you?” Sam adds quickly.

“Wha - Really?” Your gaze moves from Sam to Dean. “And you agreed to this?”

Dean is about to nip it in the bud, listing five reasons why that’ll never happen, when he notices the not-so-hidden hope in your eyes, the hint of a smile grazing your lips. Damn it. “Yeah,” he says. Damn. It. “Yes, I did.”

“Seriously?” You look at him, eyes wide. Sam looks at him, eyes even wider.

“Yeah,” Dean continues and clears his throat, pointedly avoiding his brother’s eyes. “We could, uh, stop by the shelter this morning. Sounds good?”

“Yes. Hell yes,” you grin, filling your mug and making a beeline for the door. “I’m gonna go change. Don’t leave without me.”

Dean nods. Then he goes back to his coffee, focusing his gaze on the table. Sam is still staring at him, too surprised to say anything right away, and Dean is dumbly hoping that avoiding eye contact will save him from further explanations.

In his dreams.

“I, just—The shelter this morning? Just like that?”

“What - Isn’t that what you wanted? There you go. Merry Christmas.”

“Dean. I mean–“

“I’m not heartless, Sam, okay? That right there–“ he points at the door you just used “-first time she’s smiled all month. If it takes a dog or a friggin’ giraffe to get her mind off that hunt, I don’t give a damn. Whatever she needs, she gets.”

“No, that’s - I agree with you there,” Sam says, hands raised in front of him. “It’s just–when it comes to her, you’re a little, uhm… hyper-focused. I’m not even sure you’re aware of it.”

Dean stares at his mug, mentally thanking his brother for using that term instead of others. It makes it easier to open up. “I’m aware of it,” he says, matter-of-fact. Then, before Sam can add something else, he looks up at him. “I’ll, uh - I’ll tell her. When I’m ready. When she is.”

As soon as Sam nods in understanding, Dean clears his throat and stands up, the openness of a second ago already gone. “All right. Are we gonna go get this dog or what?”—

#23 “Did you even sleep last night?” “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

Dean x Reader 

The bunker’s door whines shut and you make your way down the stairs and towards the library. Certain of its emptiness, considering the early hour, you nearly jump out of your skin when you find Dean sitting there, surrounded by empty mugs and an empty pot of coffee. He rubs his bloodshot eyes and looks down at his watch, then at you. His expression is tired but otherwise unreadable.

“Hey.” You walk closer and cup his cheek, stroke it tenderly. “What happened to you? Did you even sleep last night?”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” he says. “Where have you been? It’s 5 in the morning.”

“Oh, you know… out.”

“Out?” he repeats. “Out where?”

Just then the bunker’s door whines again. Dean frowns at you before turning his eyes towards the stairs, towards whatever hunter is showing up so early in the morning. When he sees Paul and whatever he’s carrying, his face falls, and he looks back at you, half broken-hearted.

“What?”

He shakes his head, lips pursed. “Nothing.”

Paul is heading towards the hallway, but stops next to the table and leaves your jacket there. He says something about the best night of his life, something else about needing to sleep for the next 24 hours. You don’t pay attention, barely noticing when he walks away. Your eyes aren’t straying away from Dean’s, from their movement to the jacket and back to you, from the disappointment living in them. Before you have the chance to say anything, he starts.

“You and Paul? I mean, is that even a good idea? Who’s to say something won’t happen when people from different universes interact. Really interact.”

So many things you want to ask. What? Why? Huh? In the end, you go for the last question to surface in your confused brain. “Really interact?”

“Yeah. You know, adult naptime. The horizontal mambo. For all we know, you two knock boots and the next day we’re all dead. I could be dying right now.”

“Wow,” you say, trying not to laugh. “That seems like a bit of a stretch.” There would be a lot to say about his mom and alternate-Bobby “really interacting” without anyone dropping dead the next day, but you don’t say a word about it. Dean is deadly serious, though, and he keeps on speaking.

“I mean, what do we even know about this guy? He could be all kinds of messed up.”

“What? You said he was okay two days ago. Now he’s suddenly the enemy?”

“You know what? I don’t even care,” Dean says, caring deeply. “We never said we were exclusive or anything,  so… you’re free to do whatever.”

“Oh, I am?” you ask, sarcastic. “Well, I do wish I had known that yesterday. I would have gone out with Paul instead of falling asleep on my best friend’s couch after spending hours talking about how amazing you are. My mistake.”

“Your friend – Wait, what? Your jacket, why the hell did he have it?”

“The hunt? Two days ago?” you remind him. “I must have left it in his car.”

“Oh,” he says, as every piece of information clicks in his head. Apparently, that takes time in a sleep-deprived brain. “Wait, so I’ve been sitting here all night for no reason?”

“I’m sorry, I should have called.”

“It’s fine, kid,” he says, placing his palms on the table and standing up. “After the horror show going on in my head, you falling asleep on your friend’s couch ain’t the worst thing, by far. Trust me. Now, c'mon, I need a nap.”

Together, you walk through the hallway, only stopping when something you forgot to address comes back into your thoughts, strong and crucial. “Hey, D? We are exclusive, by the way. So you’re not free to do whatever. I won’t wait up all night for you. I’ll just kick your ass.”

22. “How long do we have?” 23. “Do you think we’re bad people?”

Dean x Reader - AU

It’s just about five in the afternoon when Dean walks in through the back door. He can hear his kids laughing in the living room and the familiar song from a Disney movie in the background. Singing passionately along under his breath, he makes a beeline for the fridge, hoping for a cold beer, maybe some pie.

That’s when he sees you, sitting on the floor behind the kitchen island, candy wrappers spread around your crossed legs.

“The hell?”

“Let me have this,” you say with a sigh, unwrapping yet another candy. “Please, just let me have this.”

He doesn’t know whether to be amused or concerned, and his face doesn’t either, so the two different expressions alternate each other, until he asks, “What happened?”

“Your brother got called into work, so he brought the kids over. And here I was, thinking that dealing with two kids was hard. Boy, was I wrong.”

He settles on amused and grabs a beer from the fridge, opens it with his wedding ring. Then he sits down next to you. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re hiding.”

“What was I supposed to do? There are five kids in there. If they find out, there’s not gonna be anything left for me. And I need this, D. I really do.”

“Hey, when you’re right, you’re right,” he says and leans forward to kiss you. His hand cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your skin, as he smiles against your lips. “Hmm, hi.”

You smile back at him. “Hi, baby.”

He pecks your lips one more time before looking down at the candy bars. “Hand me a couple of those. Or a dozen. You clearly need some help here.”

“Oh, I don’t. But you’re really cute, so…” You push the small bowl of assorted candies towards him. He grabs a Snickers bar and you speak again. “How long do we have?”

“How would I know?”

Your face says ‘P-lease, who are we tryna kid here?’ 

“You know that movie by heart,” you say. “You were just singing along with it. So? How long till the end?”

He scoffs and shakes his head, trying to play it cool. Then he looks at you, realizes he’s not gonna win this, and his expression changes to one of resignation. “No more than 5 minutes.”

And so the best 5 minutes of your day begin, and end, way too quickly. Soon enough, you’re hiding all the evidence and, as you do, your son walks into the kitchen. He’s about to ask for some apple juice, like every other afternoon, but stops in his tracks and looks at you both, squinting his eyes.

“Hey, buddy,” Dean says, hiding his hand behind his back, a yellow candy wrapper in his fist. “What’s up?”

“What were you eating?”

“Nothing, just having a beer.”

“But I saw you chewing.”

Dean’s at a loss and he looks at you. What a newbie. You, on the other hand, are an expert at this. Not for nothing, but Dean still thinks Sam’s kids ate his pie last week. You might be going to hell for that. And if not for that, then for what comes out of your mouth next. For sure.

“We just had some of that pineapple casserole that uncle Sammy brought us. You want some?”

Your son looks absolutely disgusted. “I hate pineapple.”

‘Exactly’, you think, trying not to smile.

When he leaves the kitchen, apple juice in hand, Dean looks at you. “Do you think we’re bad people?”

It was later than usual when you stepped foot in your apartment; the streetlights were just starting to lighten the road, relieving the sun of its duty, and many windows in the neighborhood already appeared yellow from afar.

Pushing the front door shut and leaving your bag on the couch, you checked the clock, sighing in relief at the realization that it was late, yes, but you were still in time. 

You quickly headed to the kitchen and towards the back door, to the small patio you shared with your neighbor. He was sitting there when you walked outside, a beer in hand and one sitting on the small table next to him, waiting. 

“Hey,” he said, lips turning upward when his green eyes landed on you. “I was starting to think you were gonna bail on me today.”

“C’mon, when have I ever done that?” 

“Once or twice,” he said as you occupied the empty chair. 

“Hey,” your tone was reprimanding, “not by choice.” 

He smiled at that, almost to himself. “That’s good to know.” Then, setting down his beer, he grabbed the other one, uncapped it with the aid of his ring and handed it to you. 

Thanking him, you brought the bottle to your lips and took a sip; you could feel his eyes on you the entire time. “Man,” you said then, “I’ve been waiting for this moment all day long.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you replied, turning a little in your chair, enough to face him, “And I have so many things to tell you.”

“Oh, I know. Heard you went on another date last night,” Dean said with nonchalance. “How’d that go?” He brought the bottle to his lips and let his eyes wander away from yours as he waited for an answer. 

Years had gone by like this, sitting outside with him after work, talking about everything and nothing, the important things and the nonsensical ones. Work, food, dates, existential questions, dumb puns… no topic had been left unexplored. 

“Oh, it went well,” you replied, and his gaze was back on you, eyebrows raised in question. So you continued. “Yeah, he was really nice, you know? And funny. I think I spent half the date laughing. It was kinda perfect.”

Dean cleared his throat and cast down his eyes, directing them to the arm of the chair. “So are you gonna see him again?” Eyes back on you. “You know, for a third date?”

“Well, if he asks me to, yeah. No doubt.”

“Hmm. I know for a fact that he already did,” he stated, earning a frown from you. A look of realization crossed his face then and, with that, relief. “You got your phone on silent again, don’t you?”

Your eyes widened. “Crap. You texted me? I’m so sorry.” The phone was fast in your hands and Dean’s message stood out from a few unread ones, delivered over three hours ago. “Crap,” you repeated as soon as you read it. 

Dean chuckled. “That’s not the answer I was hoping for. Guess I just gotta move on and ask another neighbor out,” he said with a small shrug. “You know, Mrs. T has a crush on me. I mean, there’s a bit of an age difference there but, hey, I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, well, Mrs. T can date you over my cold, dead body,” you announced, bringing yet another smile to his face. His hand clasped yours then and slightly tugged on it.

“C’mere.”

Quick to your feet, you crossed the short distance and sat on his lap, letting his arms enclose you in their comfort and safety. Your noses brushed first, a tender introduction to the perfect kiss that followed. And you realized that coming home, per se, wasn’t what you had waited for all day; but, that kiss… that kiss was.  

[Tags under cut]

Dean x Reader (Best Friends to Lovers AU)

Summary: Something doesn’t feel right when your dad, Bobby, and best friend, Dean, invite your new boyfriend on a hunting trip. Convinced that their plan is to scare him off, you decide to tag along. Is it a good idea, though?

“Dean, what the hell?”

“What the hell what?” He asked, unfazed at seeing you barge into his apartment; he kept packing his duffel bag unbothered, not sparing one glance in your direction. You knew he was just playing it cool.

“You and my dad – what are you two planning?”

The corners of his mouth bent down as he shrugged. “Nothing. Bobby wants to go hunting, so we’re going.”

“What about Chet?”

And he had the audacity to feign innocence at that. “What about him?”

“You invited him. Why would you do that?”

“I thought he wanted to come, and he does. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” You scoffed. “You, my dad, and rifles, and that’s all? Right. You’re not at all trying to scare him off like you did with George.”

Dean stopped packing and turned to face your entirely. “All right. George was a douchebag. I know it, you know it, everyone knows it. The way I see it, we did you a solid.”

Dean x Reader

A/N: This fic was written for Lou’s Musical Madness Challenge. My song was Someone Great by LCD Soundsystem. Thank you to @there-must-be-a-lock for hosting this challenge, introducing me to this wonderful song, and for being the best beta reader one could hope for.

Warnings: Angst. Someone is dead. It’s not my fault. The song made me do it. I am innocent, and you have been warned. 

Dean x Reader

Summary:  A bar, two strangers, the beginning of something new…

Warnings:  Mention of suicide, angst.

Theme Song: The Night We Met - Cover by The Running Mates

Word Count: 1200+

The ice cubes were melting into your empty glass, the second of the night; a dull sight to many, but boredom was the last thing on your mind. So you kept staring at their inevitable doom, happening right there within your hand. A song was playing in the background, but you could barely hear it, too focused on the past, on a memory that kept replaying itself. A sweater in your hand - a smile - a door closing.

“Tough night?”

His voice came from nowhere, pausing the past, but you didn’t move, not even glanced his way.

After some time, you replied. “Yeah…”

“I’ve had a few of those,” he said. And then, “It gets better.”

Sure!💖💖

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#72 “Did you just… wait, you love me?”

Pairing: Dean x reader 

Word Count: 409

Warnings: injured reader, fluff 

A/N: Enjoy :) 

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Summary: The reader usually shares a bed with Dean when they stop at a motel for the night. But when Sam goes home with a girl from the bar, she decides to take his bed for herself much to Dean’s dismay.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Motel room @supernatural-jackles​​

Word Count: 809 

Warnings: nightmares, brief implied smut, cuddling, fluff

A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles​​’ Tell Me a Story bingo.

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Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,993 

Warnings: None 

And the winner is….Dean is your best friend and he becomes your boyfriend! I hope you all like it :)