Dean X Male Reader One Shots

Stuck In The Wrong Skin

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. I'm fucking stuck! You wiggle and struggle but your arms are pinned in just the right position that any movement twists your shoulders in a painful position. Panic rises in your throat and you swallow it down. You're a fucking hunter. Are you really about to have a panic attack because you're stuck? You scuffle and bump into the dresser. Pain blooms in your hip and you bite down on your lip to muffle a yelp. You have no spatial awareness and have no idea where you are in the room. Something smacks into you and you fall to the floor in a spark of pain.

"What are you doin?" Dean's amused tones above you know that you're absolutely and royally fucked.

"Stop laughing and help me, dickhead." Warm hands touch your bare skin and you almost scream. He helps you out and you almost sigh in relief but then realize you're bare-chested in front of Dean Winchester. You rummage around, hands shaking, for a sports bra. Something, anything to not remind Dean that you're not a whole man. You finally pull clothes on and are too ashamed to look him in the eyes. You pick your binder up off the floor and the stiff tackiness of the cloth makes your skin crawl. Now, you remember why people tell you not to exercise in your binder.

"I love you dork. Binder or not. You'll always be my baby boy. Now, do you want to explain to me why you were stuck in said binder?" Clearly, your poker face could use work because Dean's body language changes. "You wore it when you weren't supposed to didn't you? Angel eyes, we've talked about this. You're gonna seriously hurt yourself baby."

"It's not that simple Dean. You can't be someone like me and just ignore what's in front of you. I'm me and that's not anything that can change." You gain the courage to look into his eyes and they show two green pools of sadness. He kisses your forehead and ruffles your hair.

"Love you angel eyes. Always have, always will."