Supernatural One Shots

Whiskey

Dean x Reader

Warning: drinking, some cursing

Trying hard to hold back your giggling you quietly opened the bunker door, aside from the one lamp sitting on the long table in the library everything else was covered by darkness. Taking a moment to control your breathing and calm down you began walking down the stairs, cringing every time the metal groaned under your foot. Finally making it to the bottom you mentally high fived yourself.

Even in your current state you could never forget the layout of your home for the past two years, you couldn't help but smile at your ninja like skills in avoiding all the shelves and tables between you and the kitchen. All you wanted to do right now was go to bed and sleep off the alcohol you consumed, stopping in the kitchen you felt around for a clean glass beside the sink. Filling it up under the tap you took a few swallows before trying to set it back on the counter.

Unfortunately you missed and the glass fell to the floor, shattering.

"Oh s**t!"

Kneeling down your fuzzy mind never even registered the bad idea of picking up the glass with your bare hands, as you began picking up the pieces and trying to sweep it all into a small pile the lights suddenly turned on in the kitchen. Blinking fast you squinted at the sudden brightness.

"Y/N?"

Finally your eyes seemed to adjust enough to make out a man standing in the doorway, pistol in hand.

"Don't shoot! I've caught the culprit," at this you just giggled. "Stupid glass jumped off the counter."

Dean walked forward and knelt in front of you, "Where have you been?" You went back to sweeping up the glass shards, ignoring the sting in your palms. Reaching forward he grabbed your wrists, "What the hell! Damnit Y/N are you... are you drunk?"

Looking up you gave him a big smile, "Maybe." At the look on his face you burst out in loud laughter. Dean shook his head and pushed your hands away, "Sit still, I'll clean this up." Saluting him you sat back against the cabinet, "Aye aye captain."

Grabbing a rag he cleaned up the water as well as all the glass, bending over he grabbed under your arms and hauled you to your feet.

"Whoa, the views great from up here!"

Rolling his eyes Dean led you to your bedroom, once inside he set you on the edge of the bed and told you to stay there. Coming back a few minutes later he set out the first aid supplies on the beside table and sat beside you. Gently taking your hands in his he examined the damage.

"Christ Y/N what the hell were you thinking, you never drink, what the hell happened?"

Focusing on your hands he only glanced up long enough to meet your unfocused eyes for a moment before gently cleaning your hands.

"Owwwww, don't do that!" You tried to pull away but his grip on you only tightened.

"Sweetheart I have to get the glass out and clean the cuts, I'm gonna make it all better okay?"

Tears sprang to your eyes, "You promise?"

Dean faltered slightly at your tone, in all the time he had known you there was never a moment you let him see you so vulnerable. Usually you were one of the toughest people he knew, softening slightly at the situation he nodded, "Yeah sweetheart, I promise."

Sniffing you nodded, opening your hand even more and wincing at the feeling of him pulling out the glass and pouring alcohol over the cuts.

When he finished the first hand Dean wrapped it and began working on the next, "You wanna tell me what happened tonight?"

Huffing, your shoulders fell, "I don't k-know Sam, I just couldn't take it anymore."

Sam?

Deciding to play along he nodded, "What couldn't you take anymore?"

"Dean"

At this he stopped, looking up at you, your focus was on the wall behind him, both eyes still slightly watering and unfocused. Hiccupping you shook your head. "I don't get it Sam, how come I'm not good enough?"

Dean only grew more confused, pulling out the last glass shard he reached over to grab the alcohol, "What do you mean?"

Looking down at your hand you frowned, "How come he prefers every woman in every town we go to over me? I mean," Here you hiccupped again. "I think I'm cool, I kill bad things and l-love him very much. But he doesn't even give me a second look. Maybe there's something wrong with me, is there something wrong with me S-Sam?"

Dean was stunned, he never realized you felt that way about him. Looking back he felt like he should have seen it, you'd both always been close. Forehead kisses, shared beds in motels, lingering hugs and touches. Truth be told he'd always had feelings for you but never thought you felt the same.

Finishing wrapping your hand he gently lifted it and kissed your palm, "No sweetheart, there's nothing wrong with you."

Sniffing again you suddenly laughed, "Man I get why you guys drink now, I feel great! Did you know the guy at the bar said I almost finished a whole bottle of whiskey! That's gotta be a record or something right?"

Dean shook his head, "Come on, lets get you into bed."

Giggling you shook your head, "Nu uh Sammy, I'm a lady you gotta buy me dinner first."

Grinning slightly Dean nodded, "Don't worry sweetheart, I'll be a gentleman."

Helping you to stand he then wrapped one arm around your waist while he went to work unbuttoning your coat. While he did that you leaned forward, resting your head in the crook of his neck. "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell Dean I like him, I don't wanna lose him," you mumbled into his neck.

Feeling hurt at your statement he opened his mouth to speak when he realized you'd fallen asleep. Slipping off your coat he gently laid you on the bed, taking off your shoes he then tucked you in and kissed your forehead. Turning off the lights he walked towards the door, with one last glance at you he closed it behind him, leaving you to sleep.

The next morning you woke up feeling as though something was wrong, two minutes later you realized what, jumping up from the bed and barely making it to the bathroom in time to throw up everything in your stomach. After finishing up you flushed the toilet and wiped off your mouth, sitting there with your arm slung across the bowl and your head resting on it. You felt dizzy and dehydrated, what the hell happened, am I dying?

Hearing footsteps you decided to ignore it and focus on not puking again. Suddenly you felt a warm hand brush the hair from your face.

"You okay sweetheart?"

Cracking open one eye you looked up and saw Dean standing there, obviously trying to fight off a smirk while also looking worried.

Sitting up you covered your face with both hands, "I'm pretty sure I'm dying, all those years hunting and this is how I go. What the hell happened last night?"

Dean helped you to stand so you could brush your teeth. While you did he leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms. "Well apparently you decided last night was a great time to get hammered."

Looking up at his reflection as you reached for your toothbrush your face twisted in confusion, "What are you talking about I don't...." You stopped. Bits and pieces finally came back to you, after hearing Dean tell Sam he was gonna go out last night and find some fun you had gotten upset. Not knowing what else to do you remembered deciding to drink away the pain, drunk people always seemed happy so why not?

"f**k"

Dean nodded, "Yeah, even said when you got back you drank almost a whole bottle of whiskey. Didn't know ya had it in ya sweetheart."

Frowning at him through the mirror you finally noticed your hands, "What the hell happened to my hands?"

Dean straightened up and walked forward, taking one in his gently he began unwrapping it to check the cuts, "You broke a glass and tried to clean it up with your bare hands."

Groaning you shook your head, instantly giving yourself another wave of nausea. Putting both hands on the counter and closing your eyes you took two deep breaths to try and steady yourself. Dean felt sorry for you and began rubbing soothing circles onto your back.

Finally opening your eyes you leaned forward to brush your teeth, careful of the cuts on your hands. After finishing up you decided right now all you wanted was your bed and a dark room. "I'm gonna go lay down, thanks Dean."

Walking past him you headed straight back to your room and dove under the covers. Pulling them over your head you tried to focus on the small light shining through under your door through a small space by your face. Just as you were about to fall back asleep you heard your door open and footsteps come closer.

"Y/N, come on I've got something to make you feel better."

Pulling down the blanket only far enough to see Deans face you groaned at the bright light from the hallway, "Noooo, too bright." Dean chuckled and walked back over to close the door. Coming back he sat beside you on the bed and pulled the blanket down a little further, "Here take these and drink this whole bottle of water. Trust me you'll feel better."

Sitting up slowly you did as told, "Thanks Dean, sorry you have to see this. I'm never drinking again."

Smiling Dean set one hand on the other side of your body and leaned towards you, "From what I recall you said last night that drinking was fun and you felt great!"

Laughing softly you shook your head gently, "Nope, never again this sucks, I don't even see the point of...."

Once again you stopped, a memory from last night resurfacing. Sam bandaged me up, Sam put me to bed, Sam talked to me about Dean, right? Unless.... your eyes widened in realization. Even though you were drunk a clear picture of Dean cleaning your hands came to mind.

Dean saw the look on your face and leaned forward, worry in his eyes, "What's wrong?"

Swallowing the lump in your throat you began fiddling with the water bottle, avoiding meeting Deans eyes, "Um, I sort of remember something from last night. So, did you, I mean, did Sam help me last night?"

His eyes widened in realization, "Ah, um no that was me. Sam slept through your drunken entrance last night."

Tears stung the back of your eyes as you continued to look down, that means he knows. Dean knows how I feel and now he's probably thinking of ways to let me down easy. Clearing your throat so you wouldn't sound pitiful you set the bottle on your night stand, "Um, I think I'm gonna go back to sleep, thanks for the medicine and water." Shuffling back down underneath the blanket you turned your back to Dean and buried your face into the pillows, hoping he would just leave and let you wallow in your post drunken shame.

Feeling his weight lift from the bed you expected to hear his footsteps heading towards the door, what you didn't expect was the feeling of the blanket being lifted and Dean crawling in behind you. Putting his arm around you and pulling you back into his body he then tangled his legs with yours and buried his face into the crook of your neck. Too shocked to move you simply laid there, waiting for what happened next.

"Y/N don't worry about last night. I'm kind of glad it happened, at least now I know I'm not the only one feeling this way."

Once again receiving a huge shock in just under two minutes you blinked twice before slowly turning around in his arms. Facing him the low light from under the door gave you just enough to make out the bright green eyes staring back at you. "What do you mean?"

Dean tightened his grip on you and pulled you towards his chest, "I mean I feel the same way, I have for awhile I just didn't want to risk scarring you off." Smiling you brought up one hand to rest on his neck and trace his jaw with your thumb, "So what does that mean for us?"

Giving you a big smile Dean moved his head closer to yours, when your noses were rubbing against each other he stopped, "Its means we can do this whenever we want." With that he connected his lips to yours, out of all the times you'd imagined this happening, nothing compared to how amazing it actually felt.

And all thanks to that bottle of whiskey.

A/N: What do y'all think? Good? Bad?