what would cas do if he saw this? i personally think he would explode all the lights in the room.

Rest

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean is your rock, but you’ve become his place of rest.

AN: Surprise! Just something short and sweet for Dean. 💜

Word Count: 600

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship; fluff, hurt/comfort, tinge of angst

On nights like these, the urge hits you the most.

You’re already in bed, wearing one of his old shirts and little else. You’re waiting for Dean, watching him finish brushing his teeth. He wraps it up by splashing some water on his face.

He stops for a moment, with his hands on the edges of the sink. He looks at his reflection and rubs a hand over the thick stubble on his face.

It’s halfway to beard territory. He needs a trim, he’s probably thinking.

(You don’t mind a little extra scruff.)

*Y/N and Daryl are rummaging in a house for supplies*

Daryl: Really? Jewellery?

Y/N, with a random flower clip in her hair: What? I can’t look pretty with the world gone to shit?

Daryl: *sighing and rolling his eyes*

Somebody might need to hear this: hey. That was a really scary thing you had to go through. What an awful feeling to be carrying around. So deep inside where no one can hurt you like that ever again. If no one else has ever told you this before then I'm glad you're here. I'm glad you made it. And I'm so fucking sorry you had to see it to begin with. You absolutely did not need to see that. Not ever.

Daryl: Who hurtcha?

Y/N, laughing: What? You want a list or something?

Daryl, loading his crossbow: Yeah. Yeah, I do.

Y/N, blinking: …

You’d briefly taken shelter from the chaos. Just enough to see that Daryl had a stream of blood running down the side of his face. You hurriedly opened your pack and rummaged for the small amount of first aid supplies you’d hastily tossed in. You could feel his blue eyes on you intensely. After a long, tense moment he broke the silence between you.

“Ya shouldn't—”

“Shush! Don’t even tell me what I should or shouldn’t be doing right now, Daryl. Don’t start!”

He gulped and wiped away some blood threatening to run into his eye. “I just—”

“No,” you said again, shaking your head, starting to tend to his wound. “Do I think you’ve probably made a mistake that’s landed us here? Yes! Do I know what’s actually going on right now? No! Do I care about that? Yes! But I’m here, helping you because I care about you more than anything else. But I better get a goddamn good explanation after we survive this. Got it?” You secured the butterfly bandages on his forehead.

He nodded, looking worried and a bit guilty. “I got it. ’M sorry,” he drawled.

“Save your sorry’s until after we’re safe,” you said, throwing your pack on again.

Though he felt immense guilt and worry having unintentionally dragged you into this, Daryl’s heart swelled at the fact that you’d chased after him, right into danger. You were the only one who had.

Prompt: “Do I know what’s actually going on right now? No! Do I care about that? Yes! But I’m here, helping you, because I care about you more than anything else. But I better get a goddamn good explanation after we survive this.”

If you're lamenting the fact that you used to be able to shoot through a 500-page novel in like a day when you were in middle school and now you can't, it's worth bearing in mind that a big part of that is because when you were in middle school, your reading comprehension sucked. Yes, mental health and the stresses of adult life can definitely be factors, but it's also the case that reading is typically more effortful as an adult because you've learned to Ponder The Implications. The material isn't just skimming over the surface of your brain anymore, and some of the spoons you used to spend on maximising your daily page count are now spent on actually thinking about what you're reading!

Reading as a kid: "I can tell that this is supposed to be an emotionally moving ending, but I genuinely cannot remember who two-thirds of these characters are."

Reading as an adult: *reads a paragraph* *pauses* *reads the same paragraph again* *flips back and re-reads the preceding page to make sure you didn't misunderstand something* *stares into space for ten minutes as the Implications sink in*

added to this: most of us have a whole lot more going on in our lives as adults than we did as kids, in the sense of having a constant background awareness of Tasks That Need To Be Done, which impacts your ability to immerse yourself in a book. so whereas your middle school self could effortlessly devote their whole brain to reading, your adult brain is equivalent to an overtaxed CPU attempting to juggle thirty open tabs across two browsers, an excel spreadsheet, bloatware, security popups, the trial version of adobe, and a song that won't stop playing because itunes froze

You extracted yourself from the boring conversation about substitutes for guacamole using dried beans with a forced smile and a muttered “excuse me”. Another cocktail party in the apocalypse… These Alexandrians were fucking clueless.

Daryl was standing in the corner with a beer in his hand looking supremely uncomfortable and unapproachable. You wandered over and leaned up against the wall next to him. “Well, this is… something…” you said.

“Mmm,” he hummed, watching you take a deep drink from your beer.

You glanced over at him again and smiled at the shine in his clean hair and the nice clothes he’d pulled on for the occasion of this stupid party. “You look really nice,” you said.

He ducked his head and twirled the glass bottle in his hands nervously. “Nah… just showered for once,” he growled.

“I get to decide if you look nice. And you do. Really,” you said, catching his blue eyes again.

“Thanks,” he murmured. “Ya look—well… way better than me,” he drawled, ducking his head again. You smiled at his apparent shyness. “Think I might just slip outta here soon, though. Not like anybody would notice…”

“Oh, no you don’t!” you said hurriedly. You slipped your arm through his and moved into him more closely. “If I have to suffer through this nonsense, then so do you,” you laughed.

He glanced over at you, surprised by your closeness and touch. He gulped. “If ya keep standin’ like this with me, people are gonna think—” he broke off, his face flushing.

“Think what?” you asked, smiling up at him, your eyes bright.

“Think we're—ya know…”

“Together?” you suggested softly.

He chewed on his bottom lip. “Mhm,” he hummed.

You cocked an eyebrow up at him. “Is that a problem for you? You don’t want to be seen with me?” you joked.

“What? No—I—”

“I’m kidding, Daryl. Let people think whatever they want. You’re mine,” you laughed. “At least for tonight.”

Daryl gulped nervously. “Alrigh’… I ain’t gonna argue with that…”

Prompt: “Oh no you don’t! If I have to suffer through this nonsense then so do you!”

(Y/N drops something)

Y/N: Oh, fuck me.

(Dean smirks)

Y/N: That wasn't an invitation.

(Dean sidles closer)

(Y/N picks up object)

Y/N: Dean (tries to warn Dean away)

(Dean gives his best flirty smile)

(Y/N rolls eyes and walks away)

(Dean pouts and slowly follows Y/N to the library)

(Y/N sits down ignoring Dean)

Reblogging because

SUPERNATURAL 2.22 • All Hell Breaks Loose: Part Two

Dean // SPN - 2x04, 4x02, 10x17

In which Jimmy Kimmel is me