Dean x Reader

Plopping down on the hard metal bench, you braced your head with your hands, groaning as loud as you could.

"Shut up." Came one of the people locked in the small cell with you, before you heard someone plop down next to you.

"Dean, I can't believe we're in here." You exclaimed, looking up in dismay to see you were still in the small holding cell, and not back in the bunker.

"It's okay." Dean stuttered, his voice still laced with the alcohol running through his system. He was leaning against the bars, his hair standing on end, a drunken smile on his face. "Sammy'll get us."

"It's your fault we're in here." You grumbled, taking it out on Dean. It was partly his fault you were in here, after all, he did start the fight that ended with the police being called.

"S'not mine. It was the asshole." He mumbled, his eyes half closed as he rocked back and forth. "That pompous douche nozzle was all over you."

"I could have handled him." You insisted, but truthfully, you weren't sure. Ian, or whatever his name had been, had been really handsy, and you were losing the battle of pushing him away until Dean came to the rescue.

"Nah, I needed to save you." He answered, his hand wavering as he reached up to touch your cheek. "You's my girl."

"Dean, I..." You started, not wanting to get into the whole relationship talk when he was this plastered.

"Man, she doesn't like you. That's why she let me put my hands all over her." Ian prodded from the holding cell next to yours, and with a growl Dean was on his feet, moving really well for someone who had just downed an entire bottle of whiskey. Reaching through the bars, he had Ian's shirt in his hands before Ian could even blink, pulling him until his head banged up against the bars.

Letting go, Dean sat back down, looking extremely pleased with himself, before turning to you. "Is what he said true?"

"Of course not!" You exclaimed. "Dean, I like you. I've probably been in love with you forever, you've just been too boneheaded to notice! I just didn't want to talk about while you were hammered!"

Slowly a huge smile bloomed on his face, his head cocked a little sideways as it took a second for his alcohol addled brain to understand your words. Before he could answer, the cops came into the room, slow to the action. Banging their batons on the bars, they quieted everyone down, before pointing it at Dean. "Keep it up boy, and you'll be in solitary. As it is, we'll detain your ride for as long as possible."

Laughing as they walked away, you turned to look at Dean, who didn't seem that disturbed by the news. "Looks like we're gonna be stuck here for a while." You muttered, hoping Sam could sweet talk his way by the cops. Or use his FBI badge.

"You love me?" Dean finally muttered, totally ignoring the threat of the cops as he finally understood your words.

"Yeah, I don't know why, but I do." You sighed, before he reached over, pulling you tight to him.

"She loves me!" He exclaimed to the rest of the holding cell, squeezing you tight. Before you could shush him, you felt his head drop to your shoulder, and you titled your head to the side, chuckling softly to yourself when you noticed he had fallen asleep.

"You're so going to regret this in the morning." You whispered to him, before turning and making yourself a little more comfortable, drunk Dean still cuddled in to your side.