Okay, This is my first one shot. I read all of your lovely fics, but I was inspired to write my own. After being woken up last night during a really bad thunderstorm, I sat right up,and started writing this down. Let me know what you think, good or bad.
Your eyes snapped open wide. Something caused you to wake up in alarm, but it wasn’t yet apparent what. You sat up and blinked your (y/e/c) eyes a few times to clear the foggy sleep. You scanned the room for the cause for alarm. The next thing you knew, the silence was ripped apart by a rumbling boom overhead. Your heart instantly sped up. That was why you were awake. The fierce rain during the day had turned into a thunderstorm at night. You were terrified of storms, and that was saying something. You had been through enough in your life that not much scared you.
You were thankful that the bunker you lived in with the Winchesters had no windows. If you could see lightning, that would make things so much worse. Your breathing started to speed up. You tried to calm yourself down. A panic attack is not what you needed right now. Your breathing started to return back to normal, but you still felt uneasy. Another clap of thunder shattered your attempt to settle down. This was bad. You started to shake.
“Get yourself together (y/n)!” You said out loud to yourself. While taking in deep breaths, you began to think of all the things that normally calm you down. You weren’t expecting the first thing that came to your mind. Dean. You were close with both brothers, but the more you thought about it, the more you realized that the older brother and yourself had a stronger bond. He was the one you went to when you needed reassurance, when you needed to laugh, when you just needed to be yourself. Sam was a great friend, but he didn’t hold your heart like Dean did. Hold your heart? Why did you just think that? What did that mean? You couldn’t care about Dean like that, could you? You began to think back at more interactions you had with him. The way his smile made your heart skip. The way you could get lost in those beautiful green eyes. The way you couldn’t help but gravitate towards him whenever you were together. Maybe you did care more about him than you realized.
Thinking about Dean was definitely helping to soothe you, until another resounding boom ripped through the bunker. You couldn’t be alone anymore. You jumped out of bed, and headed towards the one place you knew you needed to be.
You made your way to his door, thankful that he kept it open a crack. You didn’t want to wake him by turning the knob. You were just going to sit in his room. Be near him. That would help, you told yourself. You slowly pushed the door open, and stepped in, closing the door to where it was before. You were immediately engulfed by his smell. The smell you had grown to love. Leather, whiskey, and gunpowder. Very Dean. You stood just inside the door, waiting for your eyes to adjust. Just as you began to make out the shadow of Dean’s sleeping form on the bed, another boom crashed above you. You jumped and let out a little squeak of surprise, which you were slightly embarrassed about. You made your way quickly to the bed, but stopped yourself short of waking him up. He couldn’t see you a mess like this, over something as silly as a thunderstorm. You decided to just be near him, so you sat on the floor, with your back leaning against his night table.
Listening to Dean take deep, sleep infused breaths helped you steady yours. You closed your eyes, leaning your head against the hard surface behind you. You couldn’t actually fall asleep this way, could you? Your answer came with another resounding crash above your head. This time, the yelp of surprise was louder than you wanted it to be. You heard his hand shift under his pillow. You stood up right as the barrel of his shotgun was aimed at your stomach.
“Dean, it’s me!” you exclaimed, holding your arms in the hair in surrender.
“(Y/n)? What are you doing in here?” he asked as he switched on the bedside light. It took a second for both of you to adjust to the intrusion of light. As if on cue, he was answered by your look of terror when you jumped as another rumble of thunder boomed. Understanding crossed his face, with a slight touch of amusement. “The storm? You’re afraid of thunderstorms?” he chuckled.
“Don’t laugh at me. The night that ghoul came and killed my family, the night you and Sam came and saved me, it was a thunderstorm. Don’t you remember? They bring such bad things. I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to be alone.” Your head hung down in embarrassment as you voiced your fears. You couldn’t lift your eyes to look at him, he couldn’t see the tears that are formed in them. You had to be strong.
“Oh, I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” You quickly wiped your tears away, and looked up at Dean. He shifted over, and lifted the covers up, granting your permission.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” The question came out more timid than you planned. It was answered by his soft smile.
“Of course not. Get in here.” You climbed into the still warm bed, being careful to face away from him. You knew how you felt, but you didn’t know how he did. You weren’t going to force your feelings if they were unrequited. The next clap of thunder, which was the loudest by far however, had you turning around to bury your face in his chest. You heard him chuckle as he wrapped his arms around you, and you finally felt safe.
“Look at you, big bad ass hunter chick, afraid of a storm. It’s, refreshing.” He said, and rested his chin on top of your head. “I like that I can take care of you.” he continued, much quieter. You almost didn’t catch that. Were you mean to? You looked up, and saw that his eyes were trained on you, studying every inch of your face.
“Dean…” you began, but were cut off by the sensation of his lips on yours. They were soft and sweet. The kiss was over too soon.
“I’m sorry (y/n). I didn’t mean…I have just wanted to do that for so long now. I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.” Dean stuttered. You just smiled your sweetest smile at him, and stopped his babble with your lips, pulling him into another swift, chaste kiss.
“Me too.” you replied, both of you smiling against each others lips. The next kiss, however, wasn’t as chaste. It was filled with all the passion you both were discovering you had for each other. It felt so right, so safe. And when the next boom of thunder crashed overhead, you didn’t hear a thing.