Jensen Ackles fan since My Bloody Valentine. I ❤️ J2! Dean Winchester and Soldier Boy! 💚I write fan fics in my spare time. I'm a new SPN girl. I need more Dean and Sam girls to communicate with please 🩷
Just some writing; the great Soldier Boy is being territorial of the Winchesters 🤭
~His Girl~
"Good morning, Kay," he whispered softly into her hair.
(Blank) heard her boyfriend call her Kay as she raised a brow, she didn't mind she just hasn't heard Ben call her that before. She looked at him with her soft green eyes and then smiled, "Mm, morning Ben." She murmured, looking up at his matching eyes that were always darker.
What? You think only those two idiot brothers of yours get to call you 'Kay'?" Ben rasped teasingly, a soft, fond smirk tugging at his lips. "You're my Kay now, pretty girl. Though '(Blank)' still sounds real sweet when you're screaming it."
She looked at him and smiled. No babe it's fine you can call me Kay. I just never heard you say that to me before, and you're right I am your Kay now, your girl."
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Summary: After finally confessing their feelings, Y/N decides Dean deserves honesty. She gives him a list of reasons not to be with her.
Warnings: Discussion of insecurity, references to emotional neglect, for once Dean Winchester getting pushed away.
A/N: Pls don't overthink the sea and the apartment, this is part of a bigger fic that keeps running in my head at all times. In that fic, Dean and reader live in an apartment by the sea. So yeah. There's no more context. This is a comfort fic probably for my own self but many others who've gone through emotional neglect to the point they have started questioning if they're even lovable. Because you are.
Main Masterlist
The sea outside the apartment was restless that night.
Dean leaned against the kitchen counter, arms folded loosely.
Y/N stood near the dining table, pacing in slow circles like she did whenever she thought and talked at the same time.
They had already crossed the point of confession days ago. Angry words in a fight that ended up spilling their feelings. The word was out. The truth had been laid out between them. They were in love with each other. Okay. Nice. But.
But instead of moving forward, Y/N had started doing something else entirely.
She was building a case.
Against herself.
Dean had seen it coming. But he hadn’t stopped her yet. He was waiting to see where she was going.
Y/N stopped pacing and looked at him, arms folded.
“You considered you could maybe do better?"
Dean didn’t even blink.
“No.”
She rolled her eyes like he was being deliberately difficult, "I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
She exhaled sharply and ran a hand through her hair, “You’re not listening.”
“Oh I’m listening,” he said calmly, “That’s the problem.”
She stared at him for a moment before turning away again, walking toward the balcony.
When she spoke again her voice was steadier, more analytical, "I have patterns.”
Dean pushed off the counter slightly, trying not to interrupt but failing, "Humor me."
“I get attached fast,” she continued. “I ask questions. I want to know what someone’s thinking, what they’re doing, how their day went.”
She glanced back at him, “You already noticed that one.”
Dean shrugged, “Yeah.”
She pointed at him immediately, “Exactly.”
“That’s not a crime.”
“To you maybe.”
“To anyone normal.”
She shook her head, "You're not normal. That’s not how people see it.”
Her tone shifted slightly.
Less argumentative.
More matter-of-fact.
“I need communication.”
Dean’s eyebrows lifted slightly, “What a monster.”
“Dean.”
“I’m serious,” she said. “I like hearing from the person I’m with. A text. A call. Something. Not once a week.”
Dean’s expression didn’t change, his tone remained mocking. He was upset that this was the conversation they were having after he laid bare his heart to her, “Hey, so, that’s called a relationship.”
She ignored the comment and kept going.
“I like reassurance sometimes.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I ask questions.”
“You’ve mentioned.”
“And apparently,” she added dryly, “that counts as being desperate and unbearable.”
Dean’s jaw tightened slightly. Whoever put that thought in her head would not see the next sunrise if he ever got his hands on him.
He didn’t say anything.
She kept pacing.
“And I like… stupid things.”
Dean tilted his head.
“Such as?”
She gestured vaguely with one hand, “Dates.”
He blinked, “Wow.”
“Flowers.”
Dean rubbed his mouth with his hand, “Scandalous.”
She glared at him.
“You’re being annoying.”
“i’m being realistic.”
“Dean, listen to me.”
Her voice wasn’t angry anymore but it was firm, there was resignation in it, “I like being courted.”
The word hung in the air for a second.
“And that’s childish,” she added quietly.
Dean’s expression shifted slightly to a softer one. But she kept talking before he could say anything.
“I like enthusiasm,” she continued, “I like someone being excited to see me.”
She shrugged one shoulder, “And if they’re not, I notice.”
Dean finally spoke, softly this time, “Yeah. Most people would.”
She ignored that too, “And if someone disappears for days, I ask where they were.”
“That’s called concern.”
“And that gets labeled clingy.”
For the first time she stopped pacing.
She leaned back against the table, arms folded again.
“So,” she said like she's just finished a presentation and is professionally concluding, “you see the issue.”
Dean looked at her for a long moment. She was talking about her feelings like they were corporate bullet points. What even made her so dissociated? Then he pushed himself fully upright and walked toward the table.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
He took her hand in his. His voice was quiet, “You done?”
“For now.”
He nodded once.
“Good.”
Then he moved again, leaned his hands on the table across from her, “Because that was the most ridiculous list of crimes I’ve ever heard.”
Y/N opened her mouth to argue.
He cut her off immediately, his forehead creasing like it usually does when he raises his eyebrows to make a point.
“You want communication,” He held up a finger.
“That’s normal.”
Another finger, “You want reassurance.”
Another.
“You want someone to actually show up and act like they like you.”
Another.
“You want dates.”
Another.
“You want flowers.”
He leaned closer slightly, "Kid, that’s not high maintenance. That’s basic.”
She scoffed, “That’s not how people see it.”
Dean’s voice went flat, “No. You had one guy tell you that.”
She stiffened slightly.
He didn’t soften, “That doesn’t make it reality. He was a douche, I'm not.”
Y/N shook her head, “You don’t get it.”
“Oh I get it.” He straightened up again, “You’re trying to convince me you’re difficult.”
She crossed her arms, “I am difficult.”
Dean snorted quietly.
“You argue with me for fun.”
“That one's not a flaw.”
“No,” he agreed. “That part I actually like.”
Her expression faltered for half a second.
Dean noticed. He always noticed.
“You know what I heard just now?” he continued.
“A woman saying she wants someone to treat her like she matters. And believing that's too much to ask for.”
She looked away, “That’s not what people had heard before.”
Dean’s voice hardened, “Then those people were idiots.”
She laughed under her breath, “You don’t know what it’s like.”
He went still for a moment.
Then said with an amused expression. The kind he makes when he's trying to water down a hard blow, “Actually I do.”
That made her look up, realizing the ridiculousness of her statement.
“You think I don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re asking for too much just because you want someone to give a damn?" He chuckled.
The words landed harder than she expected, “I didn't mean-”
Dean shrugged one shoulder, “But here’s the thing.”
He leaned back against the table now, mirroring her posture.
“You’re not warning me about you.”
Her brows furrowed slightly.
“You’re repeating what someone else told you.”
The room went quiet.
Y/N stared at the floor for a second before muttering, “You deserve someone easier.”
Dean’s head tilted slightly, “Why?”
“Because people like me get exhausting.”
He studied her face.
Then said calmly, “That’s funny.”
She frowned.
“What is?”
“Because from where I’m standing,” he said quietly, “you’re the least exhausting person I know. You're not easy, and thank God for that. You deserve real effort."
She looked up at him again.
Confused. How could he see her like that?
He shrugged again.
“You know what actually sounds exhausting?”
“What?”
“Someone who thinks asking for the bare minimum is a character flaw.”
Silence fell between them again.
The ocean outside kept moving.
Y/N finally shook her head slightly, pushing away from the table.
“You have a way with words.”
Dean smirked faintly.
“But I just can't unlearn all of it just like that, Dean."
"I have time."
"It's not that easy."
"I am also a patient man."
She started walking toward the hallway, not wanting to argue and lose again.
Dean watched her go. Then added casually behind her, “By the way.”
She stopped but didn’t turn around, “Yeah?”
“Next time you make a list like that,” he said lightly, “maybe include the part where you’re loyal, stubborn, funny, and the only person I know who can argue with me for forty minutes straight without repeating herself.”
A small pause.
Then he added, “Try harder next time. This wasn't enough to make me stop loving you.”
Y/N didn’t answer.
But the corner of her mouth twitched before she disappeared down the hallway.
Ladies help me out here. When did Dean wear a henley, I've always seen him in flannels but am I missing something?? Or perhaps I haven't been paying attention lol. His eyes & lips will throw you off like goddamn.
Btw, this isn't a contest. Dean Winchester wins all the way. 🩷
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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