Dean had been hit by a truth telling spell. He had been spewing his deepest darkest secrets without a care in the world. There was one thing you wanted to know, and as much as you knew it was taking advantage of the situation, you had to know what Dean Winchester thought of you.
You looked at him as he fiddled with his gun, taking it apart and putting it back together again to keep himself from talking.
“Dean?” you questioned, touching his thigh gently. “I’ve got a question.”
He looked up at you expectantly. “Shoot, princess. I’m a straight shooter today, so it’s your lucky day,” he smiled.
“What do you really think of me? Like why did you let me come with you and Sam? You have no ties to me. I’m not blood. Why me?” you sighed finally.
Dean narrowed his eyes at you before he opened his mouth.
“I love you,” he stated simply. He looked at you like it was the most obvious answer.
“What?” you breathed, staring at his dark green eyes.
“You’re awkward and weird, and I fucking love it. You exude a confidence that is sexy as hell because you don’t give two fucks about what anyone thinks about you. You like what you like whether I tease you about it or not. You stand your ground and that is a huge turn on. You don’t let me being an ass sway you from being you. And I love you and all your quirks. Shit, I love every damn thing about you,” Dean breathed out, staring into your eyes.
You stared at him, but before you could respond, Sam came through the hotel room door.
“Is it done?” you asked. “Is the witch dead?”
Sam nodded. He looked exhausted. “Yeah, about thirty minutes ago. I’m gonna hit the shower. Dean you alright?” Sam asked Dean.
Dean nodded as your eyes met his, a look of confusion spreading across your face. “I’m way good, dude.”
Sam nodded curtly and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
“Thirty minutes ago?” you breathed out.
“Yeah. I felt it,” he laughed softly, looking into your eyes.
“And everything you just said,” you barely whispered.
“The absolute fucking truth. I’m tired of pretending like it isn’t, sweetheart. That truth spell made me realize that I couldn’t keep it from you anymore. I’ve loved you from the minute you ganked that vamp,” he chuckled at the memory.
“I distinctly remember you telling it to ‘suck on that’ right after you separated its head from its body,” Dean smiled. “I knew right then you weren’t like other hunters. You’re different, and I love it,” Dean swallowed. “I love you,” he reiterated.
You stared at him, desperately trying to blink away the tears. Your weird awkwardness had always kept you in the friend zone with most guys. Most weren’t able to believe that a girl like you existed, a girl who loved video games, writing, rock music, and loved any movie that was quotable, so they always kept you at an arms length.
You thought Dean had been another guy to stick you in the friend zone, never getting any other indication from him, until now.
“You don’t believe me,” he mumbled, stepping closer to you.
“It’s not that,” you started but before you could finish, Dean’s hand landed on your neck and pulled your lips to his. He pressed his lips firmly against yours as his arm snaked around your back and pressed you into him, like he wanted the two of you to become one.
You wrapped your arms around this shoulders melted and into him. His lips and roaming hands confirmed everything his mouth had just confessed.
Dean Winchester loved you and all of you. How did a girl like you get so damn lucky?