“Y/N! Come on! Let’s go!”
“Coming!” you called out. Your fingers continued to twist your hair into a braid, knotted at the back of your skull. This project was something you did daily, but it was beginning to take longer and longer (not surprising, seeing as how your hair now reached your lower back when let down). You put the last pin in place and ran out towards the kitchen.
“About time,” Dean said. “Y’know, I never pegged you as one of those girls who took forever to get ready.”
“Shut up,” you muttered.
“What took you so long, anyway? It’s not like you wear a shit ton of makeup.”
“You’re making us later by talking.”
The hunt had gone as well as could be hoped for. But during the midst of the sprint through the woods, your hair had come undone, trailing behind you. It was almost snatched by the creature but you quickly dodged left, twisting your hair up with the spare hair tie you always kept on your wrist.
Back at the bunker, you began the long process of brushing out your hair, removing a number of twigs and leaves, combing out massive tangles. You had to do this before showering, otherwise, your hair would never untangle.
“Hey,” Dean said, appearing behind you.
You jumped, startled, turning to find him looking at your hair with wonder and surprise.
“Holy crap,” he said, stepping forward. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your long hair.”
You rolled your eyes slightly. “Well, there’s something to be said for you getting the right princess.”
“Can I… touch it?”
“It’s not going to bite,” you said with a small laugh.
Dean combed his fingers through your locks. “I never knew your hair was so long. You always have it pulled up. Which, don’t get me wrong, is pretty, but this…”
“Please,” you said, picking up a few strands opposite of Dean’s fingers. “My hair is such a mess. Split-end city. I just… haven’t had time to get it cut.”
Dean was quiet for a moment. “I could cut it for you. If you wanted.”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s a shame to cut this off, but… I guess long hair and hunting don’t really mix.”
“Try telling that to your brother.”
“He’s next on my list.”
You smiled as you reached into your desk drawer, pulling a pair of scissors out. “Just… be careful, okay?”
Dean gave you a quick peck on the cheek. “Promise.” He ran his fingers through your hair. “How short are you wanting?”
“I don’t care. Just… try to make it even.”
Dean fingered your locks for a few more seconds before gently taking a section. He slid the blades into your hair; you closed your eyes, bracing for impact.
The slice of the scissors echoed around your bedroom; your head felt immediately lighter (and holy shit, how short had he cut that?!).
“Fine,” you said, trying to regulate your breathing.
Dean worked as quickly as possible, snipping through your long hair, tossing locks into the trash. Finally, he smoothed his hands through your hair.
“I think that’s pretty even,” he said.
You braced yourself, turning to look in your mirror. Your hair was now chin length, a little shorter than Sam’s. You knew there were probably problem spots here and there, but overall, it didn’t look too bad.
“Damn,” Dean said with a smile. “If I thought your long hair was pretty, this is…”
You couldn’t help but smile. “You also said my pulled back look was pretty.”
“Sweetheart, you could shave your head and tattoo scales all over it and you’d still be pretty.”
You turned and stood, giving him a small kiss. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Dean slipped one hand into yours, the other still holding onto the scissors. “Now, let’s go see if we can find Sammy.”