Dean X-Reader - Patchwork Hunter - Rainy Day

Terminology: (d/g) = dog’s name

    When you wake up, the morning light is dull and gray, muted by the heavy storm clouds that line the sky. Rain patters heavily on the glass panes of the window, but there’s no sound of thunder.

    Rolling over, you realize that Dean is no longer in bed with you. Instead, there are haphazardly straightened blankets where he used to be. The realization of his absence must be what woke you because there’s no alarm set on the clock, which reads 8:23 AM. The boys don’t have another hunt to go on just yet, so they were able to spend the night.

    You pull off the blankets and stand up, stretching your arms and legs before heading for the bathroom. One of Dean’s T-shirts served as your pajamas last night, and you don’t bother changing out of it. None of you have anywhere to go, so you decide to stay in your PJ’s for a while.

    Exiting the bathroom, you’re greeted by your German shepherd, (d/g), who wags his tail and butts his head against your leg. You reach down a hand and scratch him behind the ears.

    “Hey there buddy.” You greet the dog. “You know where Dean got to?”

    A faint noise begins to emanate from downstairs, and you think it’s a guitar. Curious, you straighten up and head for the door. (d/g) follows you as you walk down the stairs, trotting ahead of you and heading straight for the bay window by the front door. As you watch, he lies down next to a figure seated in a chair.

    It’s Dean. He’s facing the window, staring out at the rain as he holds a guitar in his lap, strumming a few chords lightly. You take a seat on the bottom step and rest your chin in your hands, listening quietly as he begins to sing softly.

If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea
I’ll sail the world
To find you
If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can’t see
I’ll be the light
To guide you

Find out what we’re made of
When we are called to help our friends in need

You can count on me
Like one two three
I’ll be there
And I know when I need it
I can count on you
Like four three two
You’ll be there
‘Cause that’s what friends are s’posed to do oh yeah

    You listen with a content feeling as he works his way through the rest of the song, never once missing a chord or forgetting a word. When he reaches the end, you speak up.

    “I see you found my old guitar.”

    He turns in the chair, surprised to see you sitting there.

    “I though you were in bed. You used to play?”

    You shrug. “A long time ago. Before I met you.

    “Think you remember how?”

    “No. It’s been too long. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sing like this before. Not seriously.”

    “Guilty pleasure I guess. Don’t tell Sam?”

    “I won’t” You flash him a small grin.

    He smiles too and turns back to the guitar, playing with the strings absentmindedly.

    “Say,” You stand and move over to sit next to his chair on the floor. “Do you know the song Carry On?”

    “By Fun?” He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah I think so.”

    “Play it for me?” You rest your head on his leg and stare out at the rain.

    A moment later, he starts to play the intro to the song, singing very lightly and emotionally when the first verse starts.

Well I woke up to the sound of silence the cars
Were cutting like knives in fist fights
And I found you with a bottle of wine
Your head in the curtains and heart like the Fourth of July

You swore and said we are not
We are not shining stars
This I know
I never said we are
Though I’ve never been through Hell like that
I’ve close enough windows to know you can never look back

    You join him as he reaches the chorus, both of your voices singing in harmony, and still remaining soft.

If you’re lost and alone
Or you’re sinking like a stone
Carry on
May your past be the sound
Of your feet upon the ground
Carry on

    As the song ends, Dean lets out a small chuckle.

    “So you like Fun, huh?”

    You shrug. “They’ve got some good songs.”

    “Well, if it’s fun you like, I think I can show you a good time upstairs.” He winks when you tilt your head back.

    “You are disgusting, Dean Winchester.”

    Leaning down, he whispers in your ear. “That’s not what you said last night.”

    “Oh God, Dean! Ew!” You get to your feet and whack him lightly on the ear.

    He smiles again, setting the guitar in front of the chair and standing up. Coming up behind you, he wraps his hands around your waist, sliding them up under the T-shirt and running his fingers across your skin. You gasp at the contact and try to pull away, but he holds you close, planting teasing butterfly kisses on your neck. This action elicits a small squeak from you.

    “Keep it down (y/n),” He admonishes playfully. “You know Sam doesn’t like to hear us.”

    “Dean! Stop it!” You twist in his hold, unable to stifle every giggle. He antagonizes you by tickling your sensitive lower ribcage.

    (d/g) watches from his spot on the floor, looking completely unconcerned as you end up on the couch. You try to push Dean away from you with your feet, but he pins down your limbs and puts his body on top of yours, laying down and resting his head on your collarbone.

    Just then, both of you hear footsteps coming down the stairs. You crane your neck to see Sam, fully dressed and looking quite awake. When he sees the position you and his brother are in, he stops his descent and raises his eyebrows.

    “Guys, again?”