#these were all originally on the same canvas but I suck at layouts so i moved them all to their own

[kyber-kisses]

Southern Nights

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: cursing, angst, sad!boi dean hours, very slight canon divergence.

Summary: When the British men of letters start killing American hunters, Dean panics for the readers safety.

A/n: had this idea tumbling around in my head for awhile and finally decided to write it. Hope y’all enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated! (I also based this off of Flower Power by Greta Van Fleet so go and give it a listen!)

Things had not being going smoothly to say the least. Not smoothly at all.

Taking a deep breath Dean rested his body weight against the drivers side door of Baby, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he waited for Sam to finish up his phone calls. Thirty minutes ago they had walked out of the morgue from seeing Eileen's body and now apparently their mother was missing.

“Are you done yet?” Dean sighed, holding up his wrist to check his watch impatiently. The only answer he got from Sam was a finger being held up, telling him to give him another minute.

Another groan and Dean was letting his head fall back against the roof of the car. A minute later he heard Sam saying his goodbyes followed by a click and he was lifting his head up again.

“Well?”

“So, yeah- I’ve finished calling around about all the hunters who’ve died in the past few weeks. And um-“

“And um what?”

“They’ve all had years of experience. If this really is the British men of letters, I think their trying to wipe out American hunters.” Sam explained, watching Deans face for a reaction. The older Winchester pinched the bridge of his nose,eyes squeezed shut, no doubt frustrated with the whole situation.

“Oh well that’s just fan-freakin-tastic.”

Another few seconds past and then Deans eyes snapped back open, Jade irises now wide as he pushed himself away from the car.

“Shit, Y/N.”

Immediately understanding where Deans mind was going, Sam was already rounding the side of the vehicle to get to the passenger door. “When was the last time you talked to her?”

“I don’t know, four weeks ago- maybe five?” Dean spoke quickly, yanking open his own door and quickly sliding in, keys already in the ignition. “Try calling her. We need to make sure she’s alright.”

Tapping furiously at his screen, Sam nodded as he pressed the device to his ear. “Already on it.”

Dean was back on the road and driving before he even had a destination, his eyes darting between the asphalt and Sam as he waited for an answer.

“Anything?”

Shaking his head, Sam pulled the phone a away from his ear, flinching when Dean let out a string of curses. “Damn it, here-“ taking a hand off the wheel he fished his own phone out, tossing it across the seat towards his brother. “Try mine.”

The hunter waited in agonizing silence for another minute or so before Sam shook his head once more. “Nothing again.”

It took everything in Dean not to hit his head against the steering wheel in frustration in that moment. He needed to know that you were safe. That you were still alive and well. “Fuck- okay. Um, try calling Jody. She might know where she is.”

You and Dean were complicated to say the least. The two of you had crossed paths and become friends a lifetime ago and nothing had ever been the same since. It was easy to see by anyone that You and Dean had feelings for each other, but even after years of friendship neither of you had ever truly acted on it. Sure there were the knowing glances and smiles, and the occasional instance where the two of you found your fingers tangled together, but that was it. No more. No less. Probably because internally you both knew that this life wasn’t made for romance.

But that didn’t stop Dean from loving you. Not at all.

Dean focused his eyes back on the paint strips in the center of the road, trying to ease himself. It wasn't unusual for you to go radio silent for weeks on end. You had a busy schedule, never quite standing still enough to catch a breath before rushing off on another case, but with everything happening, Dean was worried.

Dean considered you to be a wild, energetic type. You were the type that loved diving head first into anything you found interesting. Sometimes you decided to learn a new language just for the hell of it or pick up a random hobby like archery. There was something about moving that you had always loved. You were drawn towards instability the way magma's drawn through cracks in the earth. Even when you were younger, you had had a quality that sucked people in, made people flock to you as if you were some emissary from the land of glamour. (Dean knew that truth though, you like most hunters came from a shrinky dink town in the middle of nowhere USA. . . The farthest thing from glamour.) Dean remembered when they had first found the bunker and offered you to stay with them. You had hissed a little through your teeth, before politely declining. Sure, you stopped in every once in awhile and stayed a week or two but never longer.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watched as Sam talked softly to Jody on the phone, his brother letting out light hums and nods as he jotted some stuff down on the back of an old fast food napkin. A moment later he was thanking the sheriff and hanging up.

“She got anything?”

“Kind of. She says she hasn’t heard from her in a few weeks either, but last time she checked Y/N was hunkered down in some place outside of Fairhope, Alabama. She had been working a rugaru case but that was the last she heard of her.” Sam explained with a light shrug.

“Okay, alright.” Dean nodded, glancing back over at his brother. “What do you have written down?”

“An address. Jody said if we go looking for her to start here. She thinks this is where she was staying.”

Leaning slightly over, he read the messy scribbles on the napkin before nodding and looking at the clock. “Alright, if I gun I think I can get us there by evening tomorrow.”

His brother gave him a solid nod before plugging the coordinates into his phones GPS, and giving him the first set of directions. The only thoughts running the older Winchesters head being please be alive. You need to be alive. Because if the British men of letters found you and did something to you, he would never forgive himself.

*. *. *. *. *. *. *.

Dean managed to hit it spot on because a day and a half later he and Sam were quickly lurching to a stop at the end of an old dirt driveway as dusk began to settle. The sky turning to a deep shade of blue as the sun went down, taking the dusty pinks and oranges of the sunset with it. The first fireflies could be seen through the trees, and Just beyond the house, the grass sloped down to the calm waters of the Mobile bay.

The tires crunched loudly against the gravel before Dean slammed the breaks and threw the impala into park, practically vaulting out of the vehicle at the sight of your car.

“Y/N!”

For the past several hours fear had begun its agonizing and chilling climb up Deans spine and now that he was finally at the end of the GPS route he was terrified of what he might find.

No answer.

Dean was frantic as he and Sam bolted up the steps of the massive front porch, throwing open the old screen door probably with enough force that it should have been pulled from its hinges. “Y/N, Dammit!”

luckily the open layout of the house was easy to navigate and Dean quickly found no signs of forced entry or a struggle. All your stuff was still here though, he recognized your backpack and laptop along with one of your canvas jackets.

That’s when he saw the flicker of firelight just beyond the window, music seeping through a partially open one. Quickly pushing past Sam he kicked open the back door and rushed out.

unfortunately the sound scared the hell out of you and you were falling out of your hammock, hand flying to your chest as if to stave off a heart attack.

“What the fuck?!’

“Y/N!” Instant relief rushed over Dean at the sight of you unscathed before him, sitting startled in the grass, the firelight from the pit giving you a sort of glow. . . but that feeling was quickly ripped away and replaced by anger as he clenched his jaw and walked closer. “What the hell Y/N?! You ever heard of picking up a damn phone?!”

On top of being startled to death you now had to add confusion, your eyebrows raising as you pushed yourself off the ground and crossed your arms, watching as the elder brother stormed across the grass, Sam slowly following behind.

“Excuse me?”

“Both Sam and I have been trying to call you! The least you could do is call us back if you don’t pick up originally!”

Holding a hand up in defense you stared down the jade eyed hunter. As surprised as you were to see him, you were beyond confused at his rage. “Woah, calm the fuck down. What the hell crawled up your ass?”

“Do you have any idea what’s been going on these past few days?!”

You gave him one of your famous are you kidding me looks before moving down a step. “I’m sitting in a hammock and drinking, Dean. Does it look like I fuckin know?”

“I was afraid you were dead!”

“Well clearly-“ you gestured time yourself. “I am not, now you mind calming down and telling me what’s going on and how the hell you found me?”

Deans jaw clenched before he sharply inhaled through his nose, whipping around to look at his brother as if saying “can you believe this woman?” As much as he loved you, you could be infuriating at times.

“Only if you tell me why the hell your playing house in some small ass southern town!”

“Fine, fine.”you nodded, raising your hands in defeat. A moment passed before Dean let his shoulders fall and walked closer, only to sink down onto one of the wooden seats of the picinic table, Sam close behind. Leaning against the trunk of the tree besides you, you let an uncomfortable silence fall between you and Dean as he looked around at the surroundings, Sam unfortunately caught in the middle of it.

“Sorry, Y/N. I have no idea why he’s in such a mood.” Sam tried.

“It’s fine, Sam. It’s not like I haven’t dealt with an angry Dean before.” You gave him a small smile before reaching for your glass of peach whiskey.

“Really, Alabama? Alabama?” Looking back towards you, Dean gave you weird look as if judging your taste.

“What? I like the humidity. Plus, this place is quiet.” You shrugged. “Now please fill me in on why you felt the need to track me down and check in on me, because dudes, you’ve never once done that before.”

The two shared a look before Sam let out a sigh, crossing his hands as he rested his elbows on his knees. “It’s the British men of letters.”

“Oh fantastic, what do those tea sipping idiots want now?”

“It’s not what they want, it’s what they’re doing.”

Another wave of silence.

“Okayyy. You care to elaborate?”

“They’re killing off American hunters. Hunters with years of experience under their belt. They’ve already killed Eileen, and we think they might have mom.” Dean explained.

“Shit.” You paused, finding the proper words hard to find. “I’m sorry.” You shook your head, suddenly feeling extremely guilty for not keeping in touch. “And you thought-“

“They were gonna come for you next. Yeah.”

“I should have called you guys when my phone broke a few weeks ago just to inform you that you wouldn't be able to reach me that way anymore. I’m really sorry.”

Dean looked like he was on the verge of another fit but luckily Sam caught it and stepped in before anything could escalate. “It’s fine Y/N. What matters is that your safe.”

“I know, I know. I just- I feel bad. You guys are welcome to spend the night here instead of in some cheap motel room, and tomorrow If you want I can help you guys figure this shit out. Get coordinated. It’s the least I can do to make up for being a shitty friend and making you guys worry.”

“If you have enough room we’ll gladly take you up in that offer.” Sam smiled, rising from the bench before pulling you into a hug. “How’d you even come by this place?”

“One of my families old hunting safe houses.” You shrugged, pulling away. “And don’t worry about room. There’s a bedroom and a pullout sofa in the sun room to the back of the house. Perfect amount of space for two grown ass men.”

“Oh no, we’re not taking up your space like that. I can sleep on the floor.” Dean shook his head as he now stood in front of you, the anger and annoyance seemingly gone. (Dean never could stay angry at you for long.)

“Dee, it’s fine. Really. I usually fall asleep in the hammock anyways. I find it more relaxing than any memory foam mattress.”

“Seriously?”

“yeah, seriously.” You shrugged with a light grin. Dean let out a soft chuckle before the two of you fell into silence once more. This time finding it to be acomfort. You both watched as Sam walked back around the side of the house, no doubt heading back to the car for their bags.

“I’m sorry for getting angry earlier. I was jsut super worried-“

“I know, I get it. It’s not the first time you’ve done that.”

You observed as Dean looked down at his hands, the hunter clearly ashamed of his earlier actions. Somewhere in the grass crickets began chirping, a bullfrog adding into the sound every once in awhile. As you watched him you could see the bags under his eyes, the heavy slump of his shoulders. Your usually vibrant Dean wasn't shining like usual.

A deep sigh left your lungs as you found your hand moving to cup the side of his face, his head lifting just enough to see the sad smile on your lips. “You look tired Mo ghraidh.”

Dean let out a soft chuckle at the words (even if after years he had yet to figure out what they meant. Once again, you and your eagerness to learn random languages), his eyes crinkled as he returned the same smile, leaning into your touch. “Oh I am tired.”

“You've been busy.”

“that's a fucking understatement.”

“Well,” You sighed, lightly patting his cheek before leaning in to press a kiss to where your palm had been. “You can tell me all about if over breakfast tomorrow, and then you can get my rundown.”

“sounds like a deal.” He swallowed, almost losing his words as he took you in. The firelight dancing across your skin and making your eyes blaze to life. God, you were beautiful. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Dee.” Your smile slowly grew as you pulled him into a tight hug, feeling him bury his face in your neck. Hugs like this felt like home. It felt peaceful and calm. . .something you hadn't been in a very long time.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Dean woke slowly the next morning, the house eerily silent as he threw back the sheets. Either you and Sam were stealth artists in the morning or he’d slept like the dead. The sunlight made the hunter squint as he trudged tiredly towards the kitchen, his eyes not used to seeing sunlight in the mornings after getting so used to a dark bunker. Sam was seated at the kitchen counter, an empty bowl of cereal next to him as he spoke softly to someone on the phone, probably Jody or Donna.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” Sam slightly lifted the phone from his ear. “Y/N poured you coffee. It’s on the table.”

Mumbling a tired thanks, Dean used the heel of his hand to rub at his eyes, yawning as he moved passed Sam to wrap his hand around the mug you had left. It was only when he was sinking down into one of the vacant seats did he let his eyes search the room for you. It was easy to see that you weren’t there though. The only occupants in the house being him and his brother. Slowly sipping on the coffee in his hands he waited patiently for Sam to finish the call. When he hung up he finally allowed himself to speak.

“You seen Y/N this morning?”

“Yeah, I think she’s out back.” Sam grinned over the lip of his own mug as he watched Dean turn his head to look out the back windows. “Surprised the two of you weren’t snuggled up last night with each other.”

“Stop it.” Dean warned, turning again this time to glare at his brother.

“What? Isn’t that how it is?”

“No! And you know it. And don’t give me the whole but so many people can see it crap. You know this lifestyle aint built for romance . . .or whatever.” he muttered the last words before suddenly pushing himself up from his seat once again and heading towards the back door, coffee still in hand. Eager to leave the conversation behind.

in truth Dean wanted nothing more to be with you, Truly be with you. To hold you like you were meant to be held. To tell you he loved you. To drown you in kisses. But this life wasn't built for it. You both knew that, that was why you didn't make any bold moves towards each other. Arms length away meant safety and safety meant living.

In the morning light it was much easier to take in the surroundings, the steps to the back porch ended at the grass before the partially overgrown lawn went down to the waters edge, a weather worn dock leading out onto the blue waters. It took him a moment for his eyes to find you but when he does hes almost taken back. Your laying on the dock, one foot tangling over the water while the other was tucked up, your sunglasses perched on your nose as you hold an open book above you, clearly reading.

It’s a sight to say the least. You look calm. Content even. And that’s a very rare thing to see on you. For as long as Dean has known you, you have always been a person in motion, always busy with something, wether that be pacing the bunkers library nose deep in a lore book or swinging a machete at vamps. It’s a foreign sight to see you doing something that doesn’t involve monsters in any aspect. He pauses for a moment where the grass ends and the dock begins before stepping out onto it, the light creak making you look up from your book as he walked towards you.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Sam told me I would find you out here. You get up early?”

“I’m always up early. You know that.” You smiled, closing your book and dropping it onto your chest. “I’m surprised your up. You looked tired last night.”

“Yeah, well. My sleep schedules kinda fucked already.” Dean sighed, crossing his arms before deciding to sit down next to you.

“You look grumpy. What happened?”

“Sam happened. It’s nothing.”

Swinging your other leg back onto the dock you slowly sat up. “Doesn’t sound like nothing. You wanna talk about it?”

“Oh ho, no way.” He shook his head, leaning back on his palms and tilting his head up towards the sun. 

“Well alright, fine.” You shrugged, You knew when it was a good time to prod and when it wasn't. This was one of the latter.

“What are you doing out here anyways?”

“Reading, what does it look like?” you quipped, popping to your feet before bending down to pick up your book. “plus, I need the sun. Hunters tend to get pale when they only work in the dark.”

“maybe i should lay out her then.”

That got a laugh out of you.

“What?”

“Dude, you lay out here for an hour and its gonna look like you got bitch slapped by the sun. . .no offense.” You joked, holding out a hand to hoist him up.

“Nah, you're probably right.”

“I would pay good money to see that though.”

“You're such an asshole.”

“I know.” giving him a pat on the shoulder you began walking back towards the house, the hunter watching you closely as you retreated.

There was something different out you. The way you carried yourself and the way you spoke. Most people wouldn't catch on but he did. Something was off. He could practically feel it radiating off of you in waves, even if you were acting like everything was normal. You were acting uncommonly lighthearted.

“You said last night you were gonna tell me why you're all the way out here in some small town USA. Care to fill me in?” He suddenly spoke, following you off the dock.

There was silence for a moment, almost as if he caught you off guard. “I told you, it’s a family safe house. I was staying here while hunting the rugaru. Just needed a week to rest up before I headed out again.” You shrugged.

A week to rest up? When Sam has talked to Jody she had said you had been out here for almost five. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched you walk up the back steps. There was something else you weren’t telling him.

“You found a new case yet?”

“Oh uh. . . No. No I haven’t.” Shaking your head casually before holding the door open for Dean and stepping inside.

There was his second hint that something was up. You were the type of hunter that was always on their toes, looking for the next case before one was wrapped up. Dean didn’t know how you did it. Sure he could do some cases back to back, but he needed breaks every once and awhile.

“Rugaru case must have whipped your ass, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure did.” You mumble.

Dean opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off when you beat him to it. “Let’s get to work on figuring out how to handle these British bastards, okay?” You gave Dean one of your soft smiles, running a hand through his hair as you passed by and entered the kitchen.

Watching you go, Dean felt a new sense of worry grow in his chest. You weren’t acting like you. Something was eating at you, and the thought of you being in pain broke his heart.

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