Supernatural one shots

This is it [Dean X Reader]

Requested🐝

Heartbeats.

Gunshots.

Agony.

Tears.

It all rang through your head as you had finished packing your bag. Your duffle was now slung over you shoulder as your gaze scanned over your now empty room. Another bag containing your things sat in the garage, waiting beside a 1967 chevelle.

Your heart pounded in your chest as the memories of living with the Winchesters in the Bunker raced through your mind. You had the happiest memories living here, despite the agony and the heartbreak over the years. The final memory rested clearly in your mind, beckoning you. Reminding you why you were leaving.

"Don't be such a child, ____!" Dean roared, the two of you mere inches from each other. "You're not coming on this hunt for a damn good reason!"

"Why?!" You exclaimed, your voice becoming hoarse from yelling.

"Because it's too dangerous and you're not a good enough hunter to go up against this thing!" He shouted, a sneer on his lips.

"Stop being an overbearing dick! I can take care of myself Dean! You have to trust me!" Angry, hot tears streamed down your cheeks, anguish and fury in your (c) irises. "You can't stop me from doing something I'm fine with doing!"

"Stop being a bitch! You think I can't stop you? Watch me." His words ended in a hollow, husky growl as he turned on his heel. He slammed the door behind himself, leaving you in y'all's shared room. You stared at the door with hatred, seething as you wiped the tears from your cheeks.

"You can't stop this bitch when you're gone, Dean Winchester." You mumble somberly, hearing the boys leave the garage. You pulled out your gun, aiming for the lamp and pulled the trigger. It shattered as the bullet embedded in the wall. You aimed for the picture of you and Dean on your nightstand, pulling the trigger once more and watching the bullet shatter the glass and go through your happily pictured profile. You place your gun on the dresser, turning to grab your bags.

"This is it," you muttered emptily. "The moment that defines the end of us."

Now here you were, standing in the library with fresh, solemn tears trickling down your cheeks. You shake your head, turning for the door.

"Goodbye, Boys." You whisper. "Maybe in the next life, I'll be good enough to trust."

You headed for the garage, keys in hand. You had grown silent as you loaded your bags into the backseat. You slid into the driver's seat and starting the engine. The machine roared to life, vibrating and rumbling underneath you. You shift the gears, pulling out of the garage.

A Day Later

Sam and Dean trekked through the door, exhausted and in a a somewhat decent mood. Dean stopped, gazing around the war room and glancing into the library. It was too silent. Too quiet for him, even when it was just you here. Whenever they came back from a hunt and you had stayed behind, which wasn't often, the bunker was roaring with life. Music streamed from the speakers in y'all's room, seeping through the hallways. The aroma of freshly made dinner wafted from the kitchen, filling the whole bunker.

But today wasn't like that. Instead, it was so silent, that if you dropped a pin, it would be the loudest sound heard.

Sam stopped in the hallway, his gaze scanning over Dean. He cleared his throat, catching his attention as he broke from his reveries. "Dude, are you ok?"