supernatural oneshots

nightmares - dean x reader

CONTENT: feminine descriptors, mixed POV, demonic possession, angst, hurt/comfort, post hell!dean, cuddling

word count: 935

✧──────✧

You toss and turn in bed, limbs tangling in the worn motel duvet. Images flash through your head, reminding you of pain and torture and being trapped in your own mind. It had been months since Sam drove the demon out of your body, but its fingerprints lingered in the corners of your mind, ready to creep out as soon as you closed your eyes to fall asleep.

The worst part of the nightmares is the intense feeling of anxiety and fear it induces in you. You feel like you're really back in that time, watching yourself commit atrocities you could never have dreamed of on your own.

You try to scream at the images to stop, but as in most dreams, your voice is gone. That's how it was during the possession. Your consciousness screamed for control, for mercy, but the demon's unrelenting cruelty pushed you deep into the recesses of your own mind.

You scream again, mouth hanging wide as you voicelessly plead for the horror to end.

✧──────✧

Dean sat up slowly, groggily trying to make out the neon red numbers on the digital clock on the nightstand above him. He was sleeping on the floor, as per usual when they could only afford a room with two beds. His self-sacrificing nature wouldn't let you sleep on the floor, and Sam had gotten injured on the last hunt, so it wasn't a question.

He heard a low groan from your bed, followed by a fabric-laden thrashing of limbs. In the dark, he could barely make out your body shuddering beneath the blankets, head tossing and chest rising and falling quickly with each belabored breath you took.

He knew the feeling. Hell, nightmares from his time downstairs still plagued him from time to time.

Dean stood and went to your side, bending over you to touch your shoulder. "Hey," he whispered, giving you a gentle shake. "Y/N. Wake up."

You didn't respond, so he shook you again, a little harder. "Y/N!" he hissed.

✧──────✧

You wake with a gasp, flying upright, heart hammering in your chest. Hands shoot out to hold you and you struggle against their grip.

"Hey, hey," you hear a familiar voice whisper. "It's me. You're okay."

You blink rapidly as a pair of eyes slowly becomes clear to you in the dark, meeting your terrified gaze. Dean.

You heave a relieved sigh and lean forward, dropping your head on his shoulder. He takes you into his arms easily, all pretense of not caring about you forgotten.

"Jesus Christ," you whisper into his shoulder.

Dean rubs your back comfortingly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Better than what I was seeing."

He doesn't press, but lets you relax into his body as your heart rate slowly returns to normal.

"God, Dean," you say quietly after a while. "Does it ever stop?"

"No," he replies ruefully, one hand now stroking your hair. "I wish I could say it did."

Tears prick at your eyes as memories come flooding into your mind again. "I can't forget the things I did," you manage. "I can't ever unsee-"

Dean takes you by the shoulders and holds you away from him. "That wasn't you, ya hear me? How many times do I have to tell you it wasn't your fault?"

"I know, but it was still me, Dean." The tears are threatening to escape now, but you hold them back. You will not cry in front of this man, who has gone through so much worse. "These hands killed people."

Dean sighs, pulling you back into him. "I know. It's hard to deal, but you gotta try."

You shudder, tears finally rolling down your face and dampening his shirt. "I'm not... strong like you."

"I know you can do it," he whispers, hand finding your hair again, tangling in the strands. "You're stronger than you think. I don't know a lot of people who were conscious for that long during a possession and can still form a coherent thought, much less continue to hunt down these sons of bitches like you do."

You sniffle, turning your head into his neck. Deep in your heart of hearts, you know he's right.

"I know it's hard," Dean continues. "But if anyone can beat this, it's you. You're one badass lady." He chuckles, trying to lighten your mood.

Your heart melts at this. "Thanks," you whisper, tears subsiding.

"Think you can go back to sleep?" he asks gently.

"Not really," you say glumly. You pull away and hesitate deeply before asking in a small voice, "Can you... stay? With me?" Your eyes refuse to meet his. He's going to tell you to suck it up, you know it.

"Yes."

Your eyes flit up to his, surprised and relieved. Dean looks at you warmly, gently, before getting up and raising the covers, nudging you to the side as he lays down next to you.

You face him, feeling his hand travel up your hip and stop on your waist. A surge of bravery and emotion hits you, and you lean forward, leaving a gentle kiss on his lips. When you back away, he looks surprised, and for a moment you fear you've just done something that will make your friendship irrevocably damaged.

But he just pulls you into him, kissing your forehead and resting his chin atop your head, pressing you into his large body comfortingly.

You feel relieved for the millionth time that night. No more words need to be said. You fall asleep like that, nestled in his arms, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent.