#but then this guy casually murders someone who made the mistake of stirring trouble on their mountain

[anonymousfiction-blog]

It’s all the little things.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Self esteem issues, swearing, lots and lots of fluff!, Dean being adorable

summary: this is a fic based off of little things by one direction, following Deans journey on how he comes to realise how much y/n means to him.

Your hand fits in mine like it's made just for me, But bear this in mind it was meant to be, And I'm joining up the dots with the freckles on your cheeks, And it all makes sense to me.

Dean's large hand slipped into yours as he reached down to gently lift you off of the dirty ground. You smiled thankfully as you reached for his hand, groaning slightly in pain when he pulled you to stand to your full height. Dean couldn't help but notice how he loved the way your hand felt in his, and the way that your tiny hands fit into his perfectly. A rare feeling slowly crept up inside him as he looked down at you, noticing that you had dirt staining your cheek from your hunt. With a small chuckle Dean brought his free hand up towards your face, refusing to let go of your hand that has occupied his other one, as he gently ran the pad of his thumb across your cheek and over your tiny freckles that you had gained from being in the sun.  You felt your cheeks heat up at the sudden action, you didn't know it but Dean was falling for you slowly but surely and this was just the beginning. You couldn't help but look down to your intertwined hands, biting down on your lip and looking up at Dean through your thick eye lashes. "You can let go now, I'm Okay really." You mumble, causing Dean to cough awkwardly and gently pull his hand away, now running it along his dark washed jeans in nervousness. You giggled and nudged your shoulder against his side motioning for him to follow you to the impala so you could go back to the motel. As you walked away Dean stood back and watched you walk towards the impala, a small smile on his face as he started realizing just how important you were to him.

I know you've never loved the crinkle by your eyes when you smile. You've never loved your stomach or your thighs, The dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine But i'll love them endlessly.

You had locked yourself in your room, you couldn't hold in your emotions any more. While you were at the Bar with Sam and Dean celebrating finishing yet another hunt some drunkard sauntered his way over to you and began criticizing you and the way you look. From your stomach, to your thighs which were toned and muscly. You know deep down that you shouldn't of listened to anything that the man said but he had hit a nerve, you really didn't feel comfortable in your own skin but you did accept it until tonight. Now you stood in front of the small mirror wearing shorts and a sports bra. You bit down on your lip as you focused on everything that you thought were flaws, leaning forward to look at yourself closely to focus on your face, grimacing when you seen things that you didn't like. Little did you know that Dean had slowly opened the door, sticking his head in to see if you were okay when he noticed you standing in front of the mirror looking so beautiful. He couldn't help but watch you and take in your body that he thought was perfect in every way, from your beautiful curves to your toned thighs that you had gained from hunting, to the small dimples that poked out from bottom on your shorts on your back.You sighed as you ran a hand down your stomach attempting to make it just that tiny bit flatter, shaking your head slightly when you realized that you couldn't change it over night like you wished. You felt tears brim in your eyes as you looked at yourself full on, you felt horrible with your self and you didn't know how you could fix it.

At the sight of your tears, Dean slowly made his way into your room, closing the door lightly. He let his large arms wrap around your waist pulling you to him as he leaned his head on top of yours looking at you in the mirror and smiling lovingly at you; although at the time you didn't know this. "Dean, don't look at me please." You mumbled, wrapping your arms around your waist attempting to hide yourself from your best friend. Dean's large hands gripped your wrists and gently pried your arms away from your waist, leaning his head down towards your ear. "You have nothing to be ashamed of (y/n), You're beautiful." Dean's warm breath tickled your neck as you looked into his sincere green eyes through the reflection of the mirror. Dean couldn't help but stare at you, being completely entranced by your beauty and the way your hair fell in perfect tendrils that framed your face. Even in your upset state, Dean couldn't help but think that he should of notice all this sooner, but he was going to make it up to you.

You can't go to bed without a cup of tea, And maybe that's the reason you talk in your sleep, And all those conversations are the secrets that I keep, Though it makes no sense to me.

Dean knew the only thing to help you relax and fall asleep was a glass of whiskey. By the end of drinking the small glass you found your eyes dropping before you were completely asleep on Dean's lap in Bobby's lounge room. Dean never had the heart to move you to your bedroom that Bobby let you have while you were staying, so he sat with you and gently ran his fingers through your (h/c) hair, relishing this little time he got with you. He wished you knew how much he cared. You would sometimes stir in your sleep, cuddling Dean's waist more tighter as you grumbled. "Dean d-don't eat that, it's mine." You mumbled into Dean's waist, He couldn't help but smile down at you. "Why? It's yummy." He would reply waiting for you to reply. "Because it's mine. I bought it." You whined in your sleep, you slightly frowned. Dean chuckled, moving a few stray strands out of your face. "Okay sweet heart, you can eat it." Dean whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek softly. "You already ate it some it, you jerk. But thanks." You gently smiled at being able to eat the food in your dream. Dean would never tell you that you had these conversations pretty much every night, he loved the way you spoke to him in your sleep. Majority of the night, your dreams would consist of Dean making him smile brightly, glad that you were on his mind like you were on his mind. 

I know you've never loved the sound of your voice on tape, You never liked to know how much you weigh, You still have to squeeze into your jeans, But you're perfect to me.

You finally had a day off from hunting and you and the boys were loving it. You had drove out to a small lake that no one went to and spent the day swimming. As you and Sam were laughing with each other Dean couldn't help but film you, catching Sam throwing you into the lake before jumping and landing on top of you. "I will actually kill you Sam, and you'll stay dead!" You yelled as you surfaced the water, pushing away your sopping wet hair. Dean laughed loudly as Sam tried to swim away from you but failing as you gripped onto his ankle and yanked him back towards you and pulling him into a choke hold. Dean watched as you and Sam both grinned from ear to ear, real smiles not forced ones that he usually seen on the both of you, and it made him happy. It made him happy to see you happy. "Hey lovebirds we should probably head back?" You and Sam both separated immediately, fake disgusted looks on your faces as you both fake gagged before laughing and slowly making your way out of the lake.  Your eyes caught Dean's and you smiled shyly at him as you pushed Sam back into the lake, now running to Dean. 

"I got a video of you guys down at the lake, it's pretty funny." Dean announced as you all sat on the hood of the impala wrapped up in towels. "Lemme see." Sam mumbled, taking Dean's phone from his hand and leaning over towards you so you could see the screen. You voice filtered through the speaker and you cringed. "I sound like a man!" You opened your mouth and pointed your index finger towards it. "It's because you are one." Sam replied back, nudging your shoulder and laughing. "Yeah yeah, what ever Sammy. I like that name, it's beautiful and cute... for a girl." Sam's smug smile fell from his face as you and Dean burst out into laughter. Before you knew it Sam pushed you off the hood of the impala. You grumbled as you rubbed your back, a slight pout visible. Dean found you behind a tree trying to squeeze into your denim shorts while you still had your swimming gear on, he watched curiously as you jumped around and yanked at the belt loops to try and get the fabric passed your butt. He smiled as you started to swear under your breath, attempting again to pull up your shorts, but once again getting the fabric stuck around your butt. Dean loved that you had trouble fitting in your shorts or any form of pants. "SON OF A BITCH!" Your voice rang out towards Dean, two loud billowing laughs could be heard soon after as Dean walked over to see if you were 'okay'. "Having wardrobe trouble sweet heart?" Dean casually leaned against the tree as you looked at him, your shorts stuck around your thighs. "You think?" You hissed, lifting your hands up from your sides to let them fall back once again. "Alright, alright, Calm down. I'll help you.." You furrowed your eyes brows as you looked at your best friend. "Look I know, I am usually the one taking them off-" Dean didn't get to finish his sentence because you slapped him on his arm before attempting to pull your shorts up again and succeeding.

You'll never love yourself half as much as I love you, And you'll never treat yourself right darlin but i want you to, If I let you know I'm here for you, Maybe you'll love yourself like I love you.

You screamed bloody murder as you slammed the door to Bobby's house. You had just gone out on a date with someone you met on a job and it was the worst mistake of your life. He was nothing but a slob who only wanted to get into your pants. Tears pricked at your eyes as you paced the small kitchen, wondering what was wrong with you. Why did you always go for the douche bags, the ones who never made you feel important or loved. At the sound of your entrance three men flooded the kitchen staring at you with wide concerned eyes. "You okay (y/n)? You gave us quite the fright." Bobby's voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you stopped pacing looking towards the three most important men in your life. "Yeah, Yeah, Sorry guys. You can go back to bed." You forced a smile on your face as you waved your hands in the air dismissively before you turned around to face the counter a soft sigh leaving your lips. Sam had nudged Dean's shoulder as you turned around gesturing for him to talk to you, Dean complied and made his way towards you pulling him into his large frame.

"Shh darling, shh It's okay." Dean's hands were rubbing soothing circles into your back attempting to stop your tears. He hated seeing you this way, it broke his heart knowing that he hasn't done everything to protect you. It was then that he realized that he was in love with you, memories of you flooding into his mind. Every single thing about you that he loved coming into focus. Your laughter rung through his head filled with your flushed cheeks and slightly messy hair, to your little quirks. To the moment he had held you in your room when you were self conscious, letting you cry into his chest as you fell asleep. To your little conversations you had while you were sleeping. Everything, he loved everything about you, and it took him this long to finally put the pieces together. "What's wrong with me Dean!? Why do I always feel like this!" Your voice cracked as you tried to calm down your breathing and slow your tears, you had your head in your hands as you shook your head from side to side. Dean let his fingers curl around your hands, pulling them away from your face before leaning his hands on both sides of the face he had come to love, guiding you to look at him. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You're perfect (y/n), and I'm not just saying that to comfort you, I say it because I truly believe it. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes and see how beautiful you are to me, inside and out. I wish you knew how much I love your laugh, and how much I love everything that you don't like about yourself. He is the biggest dickhead for hurting you, and I will kick his ass when I see him, but (y/n) there is someone out there who is willing to be your everything, to love every single thing about you. You just haven't been looking in the right places sweet heart." Dean brushed some loose strands from your face with one hand and gently glided his thumb across your cheek, catching your stray tears as his forest green eyes looking into yours with so much adoration and care. You titled your head to the side as you took in his words.

"What are you saying Dean? "I'm saying, I literally cherish the ground you walk on (y/n). I want you to love yourself as much as I love you. I want you to realize just how important you are to me. It took me a damn long time to figure all this crap out, and I wish I had done it sooner but better late then never. It's you (y/n), You're the girl I've been waiting for to sweep me off my feet, make me feel something, and you make me feel so many things at once. I can't explain it. I want to be yours, to be there for you. I want you to know how beautiful you are, you're my angel. I just- I just want to be with you, so you can know what it is like for someone to love you properly." Dean's green eyes had slightly become glassy as he held your hands tightly within his own, looking at you for a reaction. A small smile slowly grew on your lips as you looked at Dean, a light shade of pink staining his cheeks as he looked down at you. "So are you asking me out Winchester?" You laugh gently, you watch as Dean's face lights up smiling brightly, causing his eyes to crinkle. "Yeah, And I can promise you it will be your last because I am going to spend the rest of my life making you happy." You bit down on your lip as you slowly leaned in towards Dean, gently placing your lips against his, that familiar spark you felt whenever you and Dean touched one another flooded through your body. Dean was glad he slipped up and let you know about his feelings.

And I've just let these little things slip out of my mouth, Because it's you, it's you that they add up to.

[reddhoodie]

It’s My Party (i’ll cry if i want to)

Batfam Week Day #4: Wayne Gala! Everyone’s posting such cute stuff and here I am with the very gentle angst.

Tagging:

@speedypan @laundrymoney @xxxxsweetie-piexxxx

(let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this week!)

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    In another life, Bruce Wayne might have been an actor. He certainly had the talent for it. If not for that he would never have been able to smile and make small talk with his guests tonight. His skill served him well every time someone shook his hand and asked cheerfully where his oldest was.

    Bruce smiled winningly, and told them one by one that 'dick isn't feeling well tonight, he sends his regards'. They moved on to other topics, and he pretended, perfectly, that his oldest son wasn't down far below the house in the batcave, still unconscious, still barely stable. He didn't let anyone see the way he kept checking his phone in his suit jacket, waiting for a text that he was awake, or at least doing better.

    Jason was down there with him, since he was rarely missed at Wayne galas. He would let them know if anything changed about Dick's condition. Bruce trusted him. But it was a familiarly awful feeling, being away from one of his kids while they were hurt.

    In a rare moment of quiet, when he didn't have investors or politicians or local celebrities gathered around, he grabbed a drink from a table of refreshments and gulped it down more quickly than was likely advisable. It didn't matter, it wasn't as if seeing a rich man drinking like a fish at a party would set off alarm bells in anyone's mind.

    However, it was a slight crack in his veneer, and one person at the party noticed.

    He had hardly put the empty glass down on a passing waiter's tray when he became aware of a small someone right at his side.

    Cass didn't have to say anything when he turned to acknowledge her. She just raised her eyebrows, arms crossed.

    “Having a good time, Cass?” He asked casually in his upbeat 'gala' voice, like he didn't know she was checking in on him.

    “You okay?” She asked. Her voice was soft, but he never had trouble hearing her.

    “Of course.”

    She stared at him hard for a few long seconds, but didn't press the issue. She tugged his jacket out so she could grab his phone from the inside pocket, and checked it quickly for messages before switching to the camera app.

    He obeyed her little tug on his shirt to get him to lean down a little to her level, and smiled for the selfie she snapped of the two of them.

    Quickly she sent the photo to Stephanie, who had been too busy with her classes to come, and then tucked his phone back in his pocket.

    “Post that later.” She advised, referring to the social media accounts he normally passed off to one of his kids to maintain under his name. It had been a while since 'Bruce Wayne' had posted anything and it might look suspicious if he didn't have a few photos from tonight. He'd totally forgotten about it, to be quite honest.

    “Jason is there, it's okay.” She added with a gentle smile, looping her arm around his and sticking close.

    He let out a breath and let her lean against him. And just like that their moment was over, as a group of socialites hurried over in a flurry of cheery laughter and flutes of champagne.

    - - -

    Jason shifted in his chair for what must have been the thousandth time in the past half hour. He gave up on his book, setting it on the ground beside the chair with a sigh.

    In front of him, Dick was laid out on one of the plain little beds in the medical area of the cave. He was still too pale, his breath still just a little too fast and shallow. Bruises stood out harshly on his too-pale skin while he slept fitfully, occasionally letting out little murmurs or whimpers.

    Upstairs the annual Wayne Gala to benefit Gotham's hospitals and clinics was in full swing. The irony didn't escape him, and he hated it a little.

    His phone buzzed and he glanced at it on his lap. It was a text from Tim.

    “How's it going?”

    Jason rubbed his tired eyes and responded. “He's grown wings, we're heading to narnia. I told you I'd let you guys know if there was any change.”

    “Sorry. Hard to wait.”

    It was hard not to worry about Dick's pain level. Alfred had assured Jason that he'd given Dick as much pain relief as he felt was safe at this stage, but he itched to give him more, if only so he'd stop whimpering like that when he moved in his sleep.

    He got out of his chair, pacing in a little circle to stretch his tired muscles. After a few circles he looked back at Dick, checked his monitors, not sure if he was hoping for a change or not. No change was better than him getting worse, wasn't it? But no change was worse than improvement.

    It had been hours since he'd hauled his brother back to the cave, broken and bloody. Nightwing had followed a couple of petty thieves straight into the middle of a fight between two local gangs, one that Red Hood had just happened to be keeping an eye on himself. Even with Jason's support the ensuing fight had been brutal, with too many people and too many weapons that they just shouldn't have been able to get, and Jason hated that Dick had gotten the worst of it, even if he had been the one to make the mistake.

    Stupid mistakes. That was what got you killed. But Dick didn't deserve to die like this.

    Jason had sustained his own injuries, of course. A gunshot to the shoulder that was bandaged and aching. A couple stab wounds, plenty of cuts and bruises.

    He hadn't seen what had happened to Dick exactly. All he knew was that he'd turned and found him on the ground with a few bullet wounds, blood everywhere, hardly able to speak, and still trying to get back up. He'd gone quiet while Jason was hauling him out of there, and lost consciousness the moment they were out. Jason had tried to stem the bleeding but he was just bleeding so much from so many places. Eventually he'd just grabbed him and made for the cave as fast as he could, shouting at him to stay alive until they got back, because he would never forgive him if he died on his motorcycle.

    The silence of the cave was a stark contrast to the chaos of their arrival in the cave. The only sound now that Dick had settled down again was the gentle whirr of the computer and the occasional distant squeak of a bat high up in the cave's ceiling. Jason stared at the blood dried on his pants, sighed, and sat back down in his chair beside Dick's bed.

    - - -

    Tim sighed and pushed his phone back into his pocket, glancing around the ballroom. Jason hadn't responded to his last message, and he chose to chalk it up to him just not answering instead of something terrible happening with Dick.

    He'd never seen Jason look as scared as he had coming home the night before with Dick bleeding out in his arms, and that had scared him too. He was still scared. He was pretty sure they all were. It had taken so long to get Dick stable, to get him to stop dying. He hadn't woken all day, and still hadn't by the time they'd all had to get dressed and ready for the gala.

    Damian was at Tim's elbow, frowning at the ballroom from the quiet corner they'd found.

    It was Tim's job to keep his brother from disappearing from the event. Babysitting was not normally his favorite thing but at least it gave him something, anything, to focus on. He nudged the smaller boy with his elbow.

    “Try not to look so murderous.”

    Damian snorted, but his face softened from a scowl to a sort of resting bitterness. Good enough.

    “I don't understand why all of us have to be present. It's not like any of these people really notice anything.”

    Tim shrugged, sipped his sparkling apple juice while attempting to appear like an adult. “I know. But we wouldn't be doing any good hanging around with Jason. We'd probably just annoy him.”

    “Speak for yourself.” Damian scoffed, crossing his arms.

    Tim rolled his eyes.

    He caught a glimpse of Bruce on the other side of the ballroom, laughing and taking a photo with a pair of older women Tim didn't recognize, sipping wine and smiling. For a moment, Tim allowed himself to wonder what life would be like if the facade they all presented at these events was true. If Bruce was just a rich man who had adopted a few boys. If Damian was a regular kid and not a trained assassin. If Jason hadn't died and come back to life. If Dick wasn't Nightwing.

    For the briefest moment Tim almost envied the socialites around him. It must be nice, he thought, to not have your brother possibly dying in your basement.

    - - -

    Jason had had the thought to put on some music, to keep away the silence. All that had come up on shuffle had been slow, melancholy songs, so he'd put on one of his more intense rock playlists. Dick had stirred and murmured petulantly and Jason had immediately shut it off, concerned it was disturbing him. And so they were back to silence.

    Cass had been sending a steady stream of photos and videos from Bruce's phone. It was a nice distraction, since he couldn't concentrate on his book or his music or any of the shows he would normally watch on Bruce's netflix account.

    He was watching a short video she'd sent of Damian getting fawned over by a rich old lady in a massive feather boa, smiling while the little brat's cheeks were pinched and Tim barely contained his own smile behind his younger brother, when Dick stirred again.

    He didn't look up, assuming it was another of his fitful motions.

    “You look horrible.”

    Jason jumped slightly, and looked up at the bed.

    Dick's eyes were open just a little, a faint smile curving his lips.

    He set his phone aside and scooted his chair closer to the bed. “Speak for yourself, Dickiebird. You've been out a whole day. How do you feel?”

    “Like death.”

    Jason's heart constricted, not only at his words but at the faint, rough sound of his voice. Like it was too much effort just to speak. “Hey, only I'm allowed to say that, remember?”

    “Where is everyone?” Dick turned his head limply to look around the immediate area, squinting like he was still a little confused about where he was.

    “At that big gala thing for the hospital.” He turned to grab his phone again, to let the others know he was awake. “I'll show you the pictures in a second.”

    Dick groaned, and for a second Jason panicked. “I wanted to go to that.”

    Jason sighed, shaking his head. “Then don't get beat up and shot, you loser.”

    - - -

    Cass reappeared at Bruce's side seemingly from nowhere, both startling and not at all surprising him. She urgently handed him his phone, which he hadn't realized she'd had.

    There was a message, finally, from Jason. A photo. A selfie of himself smiling while leaning close to Dick, who was smiling tiredly.

    “We <3 consciousness.”

    Bruce smiled his first genuine smile of the night.

    “Alfred is going to check on him.” She informed him with a bright smile of her own.

    “Good. Maybe this party will wrap up early and we can all go check on him.”

    Cass beamed, making him chuckle.

    Bruce Wayne was an excellent actor, but, for just a moment, he finally didn't have to be.