Supernatural Reader Inserts [Requests Closed]

Style (Reader!Fiancee x Dean Winchester)

This is based off of the song Style from Taylor Swift's new album, 1989. I had the idea in my head for a few months now and I finally got to writing it up. While I personally believe that Dean Winchester is fully capable of being in a loving monogamous relationship, I wanted to write a piece to reflect this song, as well as explore the concept of Dean transitioning from a womanising bachelor to a fiance who is still a hunter stuck in his old ways. Enjoy! 
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It was normal for him to disappear at days at a time, sometimes even weeks. Often you would not hear from him at all, but did that bother you? Not really, well..sometimes. Lately it had actually been bothering you a lot.

You knew he was a hunter on a very unreliable schedule, the job itself was described as being spontaneous. There was never really such a thing as taking a break. He couldn't help that he had to leave you on multiple occasions to deal with it...but you started to notice a pattern. Everytime he did stop by it was only for a night, only because he was in the area; and every morning of the next day he would leave you feeling more like a one night stand than his young fiancee. 

This time wasn't any different.

There he was once again after weeks of absence, standing before you with a duffle-bag on his shoulder and a smirk on his face. Dean Winchester had arrived as though he never left. You held the door open and stared at him, holding back a shiver induced by the autumn wind.

"Hey," he said. His voice was pleasant to your ears and your heart skipped a beat, it had been so long since you last heard him, last talked to him. He gave a suggestive nod towards your nightgown, "Are you going to let me in?" he asked, his tone was playful.

You took a step back and he entered your apartment. He let out a tired groan and dropped his bag to the floor, stretching his arms over his head.

"It's midnight," you said after you closed the door, rubbing your arms to warm yourself back up. Dean took note and saw the chance to wrap you in his arms. The familiar embrace and his scent brought back a rush of memories and any resentment you previously had started to fade. You leaned into him, grasping onto his shirt. "I missed you," you whispered.

He ran his fingers through your hair, glancing down at you, "I know, baby. I missed you, too."

Saying you felt safe in his arms was more than an understatement. Who else was more capable of protecting you than Dean Winchester himself? But you knew what this night would lead to and you knew you should just tell him to leave. It was no secret to you that he was not entirely faithful. He mignt not have answered your phone calls or replied to your text messages, but Sam did. And Sam was terrible at lying, you could read that boy like an open book.

You brought it up to Dean many times before. Never once did you let him know you were getting your information from Sam, and you articulated your concerns well enough in a manner that he would not suspect his little brother at all. The conversations never went anywhere because at the end of it all he would still say, "Well I can't stop thinking about you and I."

Logically speaking, his answer was less than satisfactory. If anything, it was extremely lazy and not well thought out. As if potential infidelity could be excused simply because he thought of you? Every time you would scoff, but every time you would stay. For some reason, his answer always somehow ended up being enough for you. 

Dean broke the hug after a few silent seconds and smiled, his green eyes sparkled with affection and yours softened with longing. "Let's go to bed," he said, reaching down to pick up his things. He started his way down the corridor and towards your bedroom, you trailed behind him.

"Did you eat yet?" you asked.

"Yeah, got something at a diner that was by the usual motel."

"I'm assuming Sam is there."

"Yeah."

You said nothing as Dean headed straight to your bathroom to change, leaving you feeling a little bit odd. He was talking less than usual, but then again so were you. You climbed into your bed and made yourself comfortable, turning the desk lamp on so Dean would not be in the dark when he returned.

It took him an awfully long time before you realised that he was showering. You laid there in bed, wondering about him. Had he just finished a job? Was there a job to be done in your area? Every time you asked him why he always stopped by without notice, he would simply say that it was because he missed you. But once again, just like always, his answer never truly satisfied you.

You always felt that he was withholding information. Many arguments started over that: the lack of information, the vague answers, the obvious change of subjects, amongst other issues like his excessive drinking habits. You rationalised that it was because of his occupation, it was dangerous for him to just tell you all of what he was doing. Being a hunter not only risked his life, but the lives of those around him.

You shook your head quickly as though to shake the thoughts out of your head. Stop thinking about it, (Y/N). Be glad and spend time with him. A part of you wished he didn't come so late, you had a day full of work and stress and you had wanted to get a good night's rest. Especially since you had an important meeting to attend first thing tomorrow....but you immediately convinced yourself that that was a selfish thought and you pushed it aside. Dean was finally here, you wanted to be happy. You had to be happy.

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By the time Dean emerged from the bathroom you had dosed off, only to be woken up by him getting into bed with you. He was not at all considerate with how much he was moving around and how much noise he was making, but you didn't complain. Once he was settled in under the covers, you turned to face him with a tired smile on your face.

"Are you really that sleepy?" he asked, facing you as well. You nodded and slid over, pulling his arm over your side. Dean obliged you with a hug and firmly pressed you against him. You relaxed into his arms and snuggled your face onto his chest, happy.

"How have you been?" You mumbled. You were sleepy, yes, but you wanted to talk to him. Who knows when would be the next time you get to see him again.

"Same old, same old," he said, he ran his fingers through your hair and started to play with it. "The job keeps me on my feet, but..." Dean went on to recount the small details of his life to you, how things were going between him and Sam, and other events that he felt you were allowed to know. As time passed, however, it became increasingly difficult for you to keep your eyes open. Dean playing with your hair did not help your attempts at staying awake, and before you knew it you were fast asleep again.

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The next morning you woke up to your alarm going off around nine thirty. You mentally groaned, feeling exhausted and wishing you could go back to sleep again. While your thoughts initially drifted towards the big day you had ahead of you, you then remembered that Dean was there. A part of you was afraid to turn over...was he actually still there or had he left?

I'll have to move eventually, you thought, trying to convince yourself to face your fears. I only have an hour before work, I need to get ready. To be honest, you already knew what to expect. Especially since you gradually started to feel the lack of warmth coming from behind you.

You weren't sure whether or not to let out a sigh of disappointment or give a shrug of indifference. Sometimes you asked yourself why you put yourself through this, why were you still with a person who had mixed priorities and questionable fidelity beliefs. Before him, you had only dated a couple of other men here and there--and none of them had the privilege of receiving this much patience from you. He was different, right? You know that you fell in love with him for a reason.

There's something good about him that attracted me to him, you thought to yourself. Whatever his flaws, I have faith in him. 

You sat up and glanced over at the empty side of your bed. His duffle-bag was gone from its corner in the room, and from what you could tell he had left quite a while ago. As usual, you weren't surprised, you weren't hurt. You already knew this would happen.

After all, it was Dean's style.

//End.