Dean Winchester x Reader

Synopsis: A request on Tumblr. Friends with this man, you wake up one morning to realize everything he has been telling you has been a lie. (By the way the name is James, but we all know who he truly is ;) 

Author's Note: This was a very challenging prompt to write, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. But it's done, and I hope you like it!

This morning seemed like every other morning to you. The sun shown brightly through your threadbare curtain, beating down on you, making you groan and roll over to the other side of the bed. Your clock on your nightstand showing it was only 8:00 in the morning. Way to early to be getting up when you didn't get home until three in the morning. But that's what usually happened. Go to bed late, wake up early. Your life exactly.

Slipping out of bed, you stumbled into your kitchen, pressing the on button of the coffee pot, needing the jolt it could provide. With your head throbbing, you stumbled around your kitchen, reaching for the aspirin you kept by the sink. Feeling like the alcoholics that visited the bar you tended, you thought back to last night, wondering if you had drank too much. Your friend, James was in town, stopping by the bar, and you had taken a couple of shots with him, but that was it. Nothing you couldn't handle. So why were you feeling like you were hit by a truck this morning?

As your coffee percolated, you made your way into your bathroom, turning the water on as hot as you could manage, stepping under the scalding spray. Letting the water run over your shoulders, you pressed your head to the tile. Today you were feeling much like you had while growing up, and you didn't like it at all. Your parents had died when you were young, passing you off to an aunt who used you more as a maid than as a relative. Living on hand me downs and hateful words, you had always felt off centered, and alone.

Leaving that life as quickly as you could, you had fled here, getting your job as a bartender, not letting anyone in, until your friend James. He had shown up at your bar one night, in an oversized leather jacket, a cocky smile on his face. Under that cocky smile, you could see the same feelings in him. The feelings of being alone, and never good enough, and you felt your walls dropping around him. He never told you much about himself, just that his name was James, and that he worked insurance, traveling the country selling it.

At least once a month he would drop by, settling into his normal bar stool, waving to you as you served a couple of older men their pitcher of beer. Pouring a couple of shot glasses, you would silently hand him one, the two of dropping them back before speaking. In the end he would always end up in your spare bedroom, sleeping off the whiskey the two of you would end up consuming after you left work.

Your relationship with James was easy, comfortable, and nothing like you ever imagined a friendship with a man that hot would be. He was funny, and smart, and the two of you loved watching the same movies. He never pressured you for anything more, and you were grateful for that. He knew more about your previous life than anyone, and you thought you knew more about him than anyone else. 

Because of James, the feeling of being alone and not enough had slowly started to drift away, and you found yourself finally being able to smile and enjoy living for once. That is, until this morning when those weird feelings came back full force, along with your headache. It was like the past two years hadn't happened, that I was just leaving the abusing hands of my aunt and uncle who instilled a deep sense of self hatred in me. Shaking my head, I hoped that with the aspirin and the coffee, these unsettling feelings would leave, and I could go back to the person I wanted to be. Because James was still here, and we had planned on checking out the newest horror movie playing in town that day. 

Slipping out of the shower, I dried myself off before pulling on a pair of ripped jeans, along with my black tank top. My bare feet padding on the soft carpet, I headed back into the kitchen, hearing James rumbling around the small space, and I smiled. He was just what I needed to get these depressing emotions out of my head. Rounding the corner, I smiled at him. He had my apron on, looking silly for such a virile man. He was busy whisking away at some eggs while the bacon sizzled on the stove. 

"Hey Y/N, about time you woke up." He teased, but your emotion driven mind could sense something different about him. You weren't sure what, but it was something big.

"I've been up. Just needed a shower to clear my head." You answered, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. 

"So listen, about the movie today. I can't. I got a call from my boss, and there's an emergency meeting in Denver today." He explained, but immediately you could tell he was lying. You weren't sure how you knew, but it was there, like a flashing light. He was lying to you.

"Why are you lying to me?" You blurted out, watching as the whisk slipped from his hand.

Turning he faced you, his eyebrow raising in confusion. "Why do you think I'm lying?"

"I don't know. But you are, aren't you?" You asked him, watching as he rubbed his hand over his mouth. As you waited for him to explain, you wondered if he had lied to you about other things as well. "James, please. We're friends. You don't have to lie to me." As soon as you said his name, it felt like your tongue was burning, and you clamped your hand over your mouth. The names James didn't seem right anymore. "Wait, is your name even James?" 

Taking a step closer to you, he raised his hand, as if to wrap it around your shoulders, but you took a step back, reeling from how weird this morning was going. "Y/N, where is this all coming from?" He asked you, but you could sense the uneasiness on him.

"I don't know." You answered truthfully. "It's like something switched in me, and I can tell when someone's been lying to me. But it feels like everything you've ever told me is a lie. Please don't say that's true. I don't think I can handle that."

He ran his hands through his hair, before pointing to your small table. "Sit. Eat breakfast, and we can talk."

With shaky hands, you sat down, sipping on your coffee while thinking the entire time. You had never questioned anything James had said to you, never feeling the need to. The two of you had connected immediately. But now, here you were, questioning everything, knowing in your heart that what he had told you so far was a lie. Everything was a lie. Which made you wonder why you were sitting here so calmly, waiting for him to explain. Shouldn't you be up shouting at him, demanding answers? 

Setting a plate down in front of you, James sat down next to you, staring at you with unease. "Y/N, why do you feel like I'm lying to you?" He started, and you pushed the plate away, too uneasy to eat. 

"It's like this switch flipped in my head. I can just sense things that are lies. At least with you. I haven't talked to anyone else so I don't know. But James, why would you lie to me? I thought we were close friends." You asked him, more hurt right now than upset.

Sighing, he moved to grasp your hand, but you pulled it back. "First of all, know this. I'm so sorry, and I never meant to hurt you. My name is Dean. Dean Winchester. And I lied to keep you safe."

"You're not even named James?" You blurted out, but you were glad. The name James had never suited him. "What the hell? Why even lie about your name? Maybe you should just leave. Never come back." You told him, standing up and pointing to the door, but he didn't budge, and you knew there was no way you could force him to leave.

"Sit. Please. Eat your breakfast and hear me out. After I'm done, if you want, I will still go." He said softly, and you sat down, crossing your arms, still refusing to eat. "I lied to you because I care about you."

Laughing, you watched as his eyes narrowed. "Sure. And my aunt made me her slave because she cared about me too." You sassed back, watching as guilt ate at him. 

"Please, don't. It's not like that." He muttered, knowing how much you hated your aunt. "My job, is... I don't sell insurance. I'm not even sure you would believe me if I told you."

"Try me." You spat.

"Fine. I hunt monsters. Witches, vampires, ghouls. You name it, my brother Sam and I kill it. My mom and dad were both killed by Demons, and I was just trying to cover my tracks when I came to visit you. I didn't want them coming after you." 

"Prove it." You answered, even though there was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that he was finally telling the truth. 

"Okay. Fine. I'm going to call one of my friends, and he can prove it." James, or Dean as you were trying to remind yourself, said.

"A friend? Did you lie to this one too?" You remarked, still hurting over the fact that he hadn't been truthful to you from day one.

"A couple of times. But nothing like I did to you. By the way, his name's Cas, and he's an Angel." He told you. "Cas, wherever you are, can you come down here. Please?"

Within seconds you heard the fluttering of wings, and a dark haired man was standing off to the side of Dean, staring down at you curiously. "Dean, what is it?"

"Cas, this is Y/N. Somehow she became a lie detector, and I'm trying to convince her that I was lying to her to protect her." Dean pleaded.

"This is Y/N? Nice to finally meet you." The dark haired, trench coat wearing man said, before suddenly reaching up and placing two hands on your forehead. Turning to Dean, he frowned. "She is not spelled, but I think you are Dean." 

"Damn it. I knew that witch did something to me. She said something about all would be revealed before I ganked her." Dean muttered.

"Okay. I believe you. I believe all of it. I just wish you had said something earlier. It hurts that you didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth." You said softly, watching as Dean's shoulders slumped in relief. 

"You don't need me anymore." Cas stated, before vanishing, and you couldn't help but blink and take a deep breath. This was too much information, and you weren't sure how much more you could handle.

"So, you believe me?" Dean asked you, hope shining on his face.

"Yes. I guess this spell goes both ways. I can sense when you're lying, and when you're telling the truth." You admitted. 

"So, do you still want me to go?" He asked you, nervously nibbling on his lip.

"Ja...Dean, what did you expect would happen? You lied to me from the get go?" You asked, hurting over the fact that the one person you had finally trusted had broken that trust from day one.

"I never expected to get this close to you. Hell, when I first met you, I just thought you would be a one night stand, and then I would be off, never to see you again. But there was something about you, and I couldn't resist coming back. But I had already lied to you, and I knew it would mess things up even more if I tried to tell you the truth." He told you, standing up and grabbing his coat that was hanging by the exit. 

"Dean, wait." You stopped him. "You said you did it to protect me"

He nodded. "My job isn't a safe one. I've died more times than I like to admit, and I knew that if the bad guys out there knew how much I cared for you, they would use you against me. But it doesn't matter now. I'll get out of your life." 

"Dean, don't go." You pleaded. "Sure, I'm hurt that you lied to me, but I understand why. I just know there is a good thing between us, and I don't want that to stop. You're the only person I've ever let get this close to me."

Tossing his jacket down on the couch, he strode forward, placing his hands on each cheek before capturing your lips with his. "Thank god. You mean too much to me to just walk away." He said, after his lips had left yours. 

"Just don't lie to me again. I don't know if this spell will last, but I don't want to have to rely on it anyways." You pleaded with him, and he nodded. 

"Never again. I promise." He agreed, before pressing his lips softly against yours, the kiss sweet and full of unspoken promises. Promising you that your friendship would grow and bloom into something even sweeter. And you were more than ready for that next step.