Higher Love


DeanXReader. The reader is ditched by her prom date on prom night, Dean comes to the rescue. Tag to: Higher Love by James Vincent McMorrow.

Age Rating:

Higher Love

"Dean…" You tried to keep your tearful tone together as you spoke on the voicemail of his phone. "…he didn't show up…" Your voice trembled. "…well…he did…just with someone else…" You sniffled. "…I need you to pick me up…please…" You added at the end before ending the call. Sniffling once again, you rubbed a hand across your eye with the back of your hand, uncaring now about whether your make up smudged.

It was the prettiest you'd ever looked. You'd actually made an effort for the prom, ditching your typical plaid and jeans for a dress and heels. Something that you had been worried about doing, feeling strange in the alien material and general girliness of the outfit. Sam and Dean had been supportive all the way though, and you were sure that you could even see the beginning of tears in Sam's eyes as he took in the sight of you after you'd walked into the main room of the motel from the one you shared with them earlier that night. Dean had been speechless as he noticed you. You didn't know whether it was a good speechless or a bad speechless, but you hadn't really cared, you'd been too excited to go to your first prom ever with an actual boy. Someone who you had met at school and were asked out by a couple of days before the prom. That led to a mad rush to get your outfit together before the big night. Dean had refused to let you pay for it, saying that it was there present for his little sis. You were the same age as Dean, something that he didn't always like at first, him seeing you as a little sister despite the few months difference between your birthdays, and you weren't really his sister of course, but over the ten years that you'd known them, they'd come to love you as their own blood, just as you had come to see them as yours. You didn't care that you didn't share the same surname, or the same DNA, because they are the best thing that has ever happened to you, and you couldn't be more thankful. John had taken you in all those years ago after a hunt gone wrong left your parents dead, and you alone in the world. Unlike Dean though, you had stayed on at school, or whatever school they were signed up to in the state they were hauled up in for a hunt, and so Sam was the only one you saw there. Dean would instead either stay at the motel or go hunting with John. You'd been so excited about your prom, especially seeing as John said they would be in the state long enough for you to actually go to it, and now here you were, sat alone on some crappy bench crying. You didn't know why you'd even got your hopes up.

Looking back now, you realised that your feelings for Mike hadn't been completely true. He was the best of a bad selection. You knew who you really liked, but he probably didn't have the same feelings. Like you said, he saw you as a little sister, and probably nothing more.

You could hear the sound of a car pulling up before you spotted the Impala beside the curb. Looking down at a spot on the concrete, you didn't look up as footsteps approached before someone took a seat next to you on the wooden bench you were sitting on.

"Y/N…" Came a soft voice, the smell of…no…the familiar scent of leather and gunpowder were gone, the cheap aftershave was still there, but that was it.

You looked up at Dean to see him dressed in his suit, the one that he would use when out interviewing people on hunts. Black tie and white shirt with his black suit jacket and trousers.

"Dean?" You spoke up, tone showing slight confusion. You didn't have the chance to comment any further however as Dean leant forward and placed a hand on the side of your face before pressing his lips to yours. Kissing him back, it was just as amazing as you had imagined it being. When you pulled away, you blushed slightly.

Dean smirked slightly as he looked at you. "You look like a panda."

You shot him a bitch face. "Thanks." Opening your bag, you took out a mirror.

A tissue was then offered to you.

You smiled, taking it as you began to wipe away the remains of your makeup.

"You don't need it anyway." Dean began. "You beautiful enough without it." He paused. "And all this." He motioned to the dress and shoes.

You knew tears were coming to your eyes again. Seeing this, Dean wrapped an arm around your back and pulled you against him. You rested your head against his side. "Just so you know, you look really good in a suit." You then accompanied your statement with a cheeky smile.

"Just for that I won't wear it again. Not that I would want to, this thing is horrific." Dean pulled at the collar, clearly feeling restricted from having his top button done up and his tie on.

"Try walking in these heels and then you'll understand the true meaning of horrific. Also, dresses blow up, I've done nothing but hold it down."

"Your dress is clearly trying to make you have a Marilyn moment." Dean smirked.

You nodded. "Stupid thing. I'm never wearing a dress ever again. I'll stick to jeans and plaid." You looked up at him. "I miss the jacket."


You nodded once again. "Smells nice."

Dean smirked. "Is that the only reason?"

"Don't like change. Tonight sorta' proves that change for me never works out."

"We worked out. So did you and Sam, and John, that worked out." Dean reassured. "Your life changed when you were eight, and you managed to get through that."

"I had you." You smiled.

"Don't sell yourself short, you were strong."

"I cried myself to sleep every night for months."

"You had just lost your parents, Y/N, you were allowed to let your guard slip. Trust me, I get the whole parents training you from a young age thing, but you were allowed to grieve, and you weren't weak or stupid for being upset."

"Thanks, Dean."

"You're welcome. Now…" He moved slightly and put his hands on your arms as he took in your appearance. "You don't look like a panda anymore so you don't have any excuses to use now."

"Dean, what?" You furrowed an eyebrow.

"We've got a prom to go to." Dean smiled.

"What, no, no, no, I am not going back in there." You stated.



"Come on, when does Y/N Y/S/N give a shit about what anyone thinks?"

You sighed. "Fine."

Dean took your hand in his as he led you towards the school.

Everyone's eyes turned to the two of you as you walked inside. Their facial expressions that of shock.

"Let them look." Dean whispered.

You nodded.

A new song began to play.

"May I have this dance?" Dean asked with a smile, bowing slightly as if something out of a Austen novel.

"Of course." You giggled, curtseying to him.

Think about it, there must be higher love

Down in the heart and in the stars above,

Without it, life is wasted time.

Look inside your heart, I'll look inside mine.

Dean gently intertwined his fingers with yours as he slowly began to sway back and forth. Neither of you were good dancers, and you both knew it, so you just followed the slow music.

Things look so bad everywhere

In this whole world, what's fair?

We walk blind and we try to see

Falling behind in what could be.

Dean pulled you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist as you continued to sway. You closed the remainder of the distance and rested against his chest, Dean held you as if he was never gonna' let you go. He looked down at you with a smile after you'd found comfort against his chest, squeezing your hand gently with pure happiness in his eyes.

Bring me a higher love

Bring me a higher love,

Bring me a higher love

Where's this higher love, I've been thinking of?

You felt a tear trickle down your cheek as you looked up at the guy you'd fallen in love with slowly and completely. The guy who had worn a suit despite hating doing so. The guy who didn't even go to your school but had still walked through those doors as if he did. The only guy who would think about saying your smudged makeup made you look like a panda to a girl that was crying and still manage to cheer you up. The guy who wasn't afraid to be subject to whispers and comments from those in your year as he danced with you. The guy who was so perfect in so many ways and didn't even realise.

Worlds are turning and we're just hanging on

Facing our fear, standing out there alone

Oh a yearning, and it's real for me

There must be someone who's feeling for me

Things look so bad everywhere

Dean was the guy who made you feel stronger. Made you feel like you were more than just some kid hunter whose parents died ten years ago.

In this whole world, what's fair?

We walk blind and we try to see

Falling behind in what could be

He made you feel safe as he kept his arms wrapped tight around you. The guy who you had called for rescue and reassurance in the face of your sadness earlier. The guy who had delivered so much more. He was the one thing in your life that made sense. All of the monsters and the demons, they meant nothing. All that mattered had one surname. And that surname brought hope. Hope to everyone. All those they'd ever saved. And you. The surname had brought hope to you all those years ago. Gave you shelter and security. Gave you a family to once again call your own. One man and two boys that accepted you without even stopping to think.

Bring me a higher love

Bring me a higher love,

Bring me a higher love

Where's this higher love, I've been thinking of?

Because they didn't have to. John was in no way inclined to take you in. You weren't his problem. He had two kids of his own to worry about. He could quite easily of just left you for the CPS to deal with. But he didn't.

I will wait for it, I'm not too late for it

Until then, I'll sing my song

To cheer the night along

Dean was the guy who had stole a guitar when he was sixteen and proceeded to learn how to play it over long journeys in the Impala, sat in the back with you while Sammy rode shotgun, slowly getting the hang of chords before finally being able to play any requests you had. You'd witnessed his expression every time he'd got a chord right when practicing, almost shocked at himself for actually being able to do it, before the most perfect smile would trigger dimples on his lightly freckled cheeks. He was the guy that, on nights when you'd feel like crap after everything that happened all those years ago would catch up with you, would sit with his back against the door to your room that you'd slammed closed earlier that night and play your favourite song on his guitar. He'd just play and play until you weakly shouted a request to him, hearing the shuffling that followed and knowing just how big the smile on Dean's face would be on the other side of that door.

I could light the night up with my soul on fire

I could make the sun shine from pure desire

Let me feel the love come over me

Let me feel how strong it can be

"I love you, Y/N." Dean spoke up, his tone soft and gentle.

You smiled. "I love you too, Dean."

Bring me a higher love

Bring me a higher love, oh

Bring me a higher love

I could rise above for this higher love.

Dean was the guy that you loved more than life itself, and nothing was ever going to change that.

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