Over Our Heads
Title: Over Our Heads
Summary: When Sam leaves you and Dean alone in the bunker to have a movie night all by yourselves, feelings that have been under wraps for years begin to surface. Will it be the start of something new or will it turn into yet another moment you’ve had with the eldest Winchester?
Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester (mentioned)
Word count: 2482
Warnings: Language, the slightest bit of angst. Pure fluff.
Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @idreamofhazel ‘s and @impala-dreamer ‘s “Sammy Says” writing challenge. First of all, congratulations to both of you amazing human beings because you deserve it. Second of all, thank you so much for letting me participate, I loved writing this.
Also, I’d like to thank my amazing twin @ravengirl94 for putting up with my whining and for helping me figure out what I wanted to do with the ending here. Thank you so, so much, Emily, you’re the absolute best.
Now about this fic: My prompt was “You mind doing a little bit of thinking with your upstairs brain, Dean?” and is included in bold in the text below. (This is written both from the reader’s and Dean’s POV and includes a flashback in italics.)
Your fingers curled into your palm whilst you sat on Dean’s bed, head rested against the headboard, body just mere inches away from his as the world in the screen before you came to life.
It was one of those rare nights that you had nowhere to be and nothing to do. Miraculously enough, the world seemed to be doing just fine without you and the Winchesters brothers were more than happy to take advantage of all of that tranquility and stagnation while it lasted. Sam, for instance, had already hit the bar for the night -he had said something about needing to spend some time with himself but you were pretty sure that his sudden outing had something to do with that beautiful librarian that had been flirting with him all week- while, much to your surprise, the older Winchester had decided to spend a lazy night in with you, filled with cooking and silly jokes, wonderfully interesting conversations and laughter.
However, as fantastic as the evening had been, it was getting late and you were getting more and more tired.
Stifling a yawn, you turned to see Dean already staring at you, green eyes bright and wide in the dim light of the bedroom.
“What?” you asked.
He smiled that half-smile of his that always caused your heart to flutter unevenly.
“C’mere.” He whispered, arm draping over your shoulder to pull you to him.
You opened your mouth to object but the look on his face, vulnerable and intense, pierced through your very soul and you leaned against him, letting his warmth seep into your skin and his scent, so utterly and uniquely Dean, to overwhelm your senses, comfortably resting your head on the crook of his neck.