Multifandom Oneshots (II)

Dean Winchester x Reader

You walk into the principal's office your junior year. You're to show a new student around and it's the last thing you want to do.
The boy is already in the office when you walk in. At least he's cute.
"Mr. Winchester, this is Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, this is Dean Winchester."
You smile and hold out your hand. "Hi, Dean. It's nice to meet you."
"Yeah. You too." He shakes your hand, and his sleeve falls a bit down on his arm, revealing dark bruises.
He follows you around the school, listening in broody silence as you speak.
"Any questions?"
"Are you seeing anybody?" He asks.
"Any questions relating to the school?"
"Nope."
"Why do I feel like the principal will be seeing more of you than I will?" You smile.
He shrugs with a smug grin.
"Do you have A Lunch?"
He looks down at his schedule and gives an affirmative nod.
"Do you want to go eat? I can introduce you to people, but they probably won't be people you'll associate much with."
"Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Associate with them."
"I do."
"Then maybe I will too."
"Well, I guess we'll see."
"I feel like you're a total asshole." You try not to smile.
"I feel like you're a total goody-goody." He smirks.
"I don't deny it. Let's go eat."
"Can I get your number? I mean, in case I have any questions." He asks as he follows you to the lunch room.
"We'll see."

Dean's gone in less than a month, but he calls you every night. Sometimes you talk for hours, sometimes for minutes, and sometimes just for a couple of seconds, but either way, you talk every night.
Or at least you did for about a year. It stopped suddenly. He'd never offered you any explanation for anything before, and he didn't start with ending the phone calls.
You'd been upset, but eventually you just stopped caring.
Or at least you thought you'd stopped caring, but then you saw him again.
You're visiting you grandmother who lives out of state when that happens.
"No, Grandma, let's not go there—" You begin, but your grandmother has already gone into the restaurant.
"Y/N, isn't that that boy you dated?" Your grandmother asks after you'd been sitting down for a while. She points at Dean, and you wince inwardly.
"Yes ma'am." You say, trying not to sound like you're wincing.
"Go say hi."
"No, that's really not—"
"Go say hi." She repeats, so you stand.
Dean had eaten plenty of dinners with your family, but he'd never introduced you to his. You knew he had a little brother named Sammy, and a dad who was never around. You assume the older man with him is his father, and the younger is his brother.
"Dean?" You ask as you approach.
He looks up at you. "Y/N?" He asks, sounding doubtful.
"Yeah." You put a smile on your face.
"Well, shit. Look what the cat dragged in." He smiles and stands to hug you. "Wow. You look amazing."
"Dean, what have I told you?" The older man with him asks.
Dean jerks away from you. "Yes sir. Um, Y/N, this is my dad and my brother Sammy."
You smile at Sam. "Hey, it's nice to finally meet you." You turn to his father with the smile still on your face, but this time less sincere. "Hi." You turn back to Dean, your smile still there and still insincere because you hate Dean Winchester. "Well, I just wanted to say hi, but I won't bother you anymore."
Dean calls your name as you walk away, but you ignore it. He doesn't want to talk to you, you don't want to talk to him.
Dean Fucking Winchester.
You tell your grandmother you have to pee, but really you just want to go to the bathroom because you're on the verge of tears.
When you finally come out of the bathroom, Dean's waiting outside.
"Oh." You say. "Hey."
"Y/N, I want to explain—"
"No, there's nothing to explain." You shrug.
"I love you." He says quickly, surprising you into making eye contact. "I'm sorry I disappeared. My dad heard me talking to you and he got mad. He thought I was making myself too vulnerable. You know how he's always said never to get attached—"
"Making yourself too vulnerable? What does that—"
"He was right. I was. I was way too vulnerable with you, and I was putting you in danger and—"
"In danger? Of what, exactly?" You cross your arms.
"Of me! Kiss me?"
"No!"
"I'm sorry. Please forgive me."
"Why are you so desperate to please him, Dean?" You sigh. "He's an asshole. He abuses you. He—"
"I wouldn't call it abuse—"
"Then let me see your—"
"No."
You kiss him. "I love you too."
He leans his forehead on yours. "Thank you. For everything."
"Thank you."
"I'll call you."
"You better."