Supernatural Imagines

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Posts tagged with "Dean one shots"

I absolutely love your blog!!! Could you do an imagine where Y/N is a hunter with Sam and Dean, but every week she disappears once until morning and when the guys track her down they find out that she does dance in an empty studio to relieve her stress? It would mean a lot to me if you did this imagine for me :)

Thank you so much! That means a lot to me.

Just so you guys know, I know essentially nothing about dancing. All I know comes from watching Dance Academy.
~~~~~

As soon as Sam and Dean seemed to be immersed in research, you snuck out of the bunker, taking your car into town. It was something you did about once a week and so far, they hadn’t noticed that you’d been leaving.

It had all started several weeks ago, when, after a hunt gone wrong, which had resulted in the death of a young boy, you’d been wandering around the town near the bunker. You had been lost in your thoughts, and almost missed the ballet studio as you walked past. But you had backtracked, drinking in the sight. Dancing had always been a passion of yours, and you couldn’t believe you had found a studio near the bunker.

The morning after your discovery, you’d returned, hoping to speak with the owner. As it turns out, she was a friend of your dance teacher from when you were a kid, and agreed to leave the studio unlocked one night a week, so long as you locked up afterwards with the spare key.

So each Monday, you snuck out to the studio, letting go of the stress as you stretched and spun and lost yourself to the movements. And today was just like those other days. You positioned yourself at the barre, going through the positions as you watched yourself in the mirror opposite.

But just as you were heading over to turn on the music, you caught side of movement behind you, and spun around to find Sam and Dean watching you. “Nice outfit,” Dean observed. Nervously, you smoothed down the material of your leotard, something much different to the jeans and button up shirts you wore when hunting.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, reaching down to take off your pointe shoes. You figured that you wouldn’t get to do much dancing tonight, not with company around.

“We were wondering where you’ve been going the past few weeks,” Sam explained. “We hope we weren’t intruding on anything.” Huh. So they had noticed your absence. It would seem that you weren’t as secretive as you would like to believe.

“It’s fine,” you assured them. “I just like coming here. It takes away the stress.” Their faces showed that they knew exactly what that was like. Being a hunter was never easy, and sometimes the pressure built up to a point where it was nearly unbearable.

“I didn’t know you danced,” Dean spoke up, seeming surprised at this revelation.

Smiling ruefully, you said, “Well, I don’t, really. Not since I started hunting. But then I found this studio, and I thought, ‘Why not?’”

The brothers smiled at you, and you felt dumb for ever thinking they would laugh at you for your love of dance. “I think it’s great that you’ve got something to take your mind off things,” Sam told you.

“I agree,” Dean added. “Maybe you might even be able to teach us a few moves.” You laughed, collecting your bag from the corner and going over to meet them.

“Like you could keep up.”

~~~~~

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Can you write a readerxdean imagine where the reader is pretty similar to dean and they go on a road trip and they're singing and dean confesses he loves the reader and super fluffy?c:

Anonymous

Hi. I hope you enjoy this imagine!

~~~~~

The Impala flew down the straight stretch of black road, with no sign of anyone else around. You loved it like this - Dean behind the wheel, you in the passenger seat. Both front windows were down and you were each resting an elbow on the window frame, allowing the wind to whip inside, ruffling your hair and shirts.

You dug through Dean’s box of cassette tapes, smiling as you found the one you were after and put it in the player. As the sound of AC/DC filled the car, Dean looked over at you and grinned, tapping out the beat on the steering wheel. “You have excellent taste in music,” he told you, turning back to the road.

“I know,” you agreed, leaning back against the seat. As the chorus came round, you and Dean grinned at one another, before proceeding to belt out the lyrics.

“Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap
Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap
Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap
(Dirty deeds and they’re done dirt cheap)
(Dirty deeds and they’re done dirt cheap).”

Dean was head banging, and you had turned the dashboard into a drum kit. It was so freeing, to just rock out and forget about angels and demons and ghosts for the time being. You and Dean could just relax and act like teenagers at a concert for a while, instead of worrying about the fate of the world.

As the song finally died out, the two of you laughed, trying to catch your breath. “God, I love this,” Dean murmured.

“Me too,” you smiled, looking in the rear view mirror at the endless expanse of road stretching out behind you.

“No, I mean it,” he insisted. “I-I love you.” He held his breath, looking at you out of the corner of his eye to gauge your reaction.

“As you damn well should, Winchester,” you smirked. But then your expression softened, and you reached over to squeeze his knee. “But don’t worry - I know the feeling. Road trips with you are my favourite things in the world.”

~~~~~

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Your blog is amazing!! I've had a hard time sleeping recently so could I possibly get an imagine where the reader (a hunter and Dean's girlfriend) can't sleep so Dean comforts her and helps her get to sleep and it's just hella fluffy! Thank you :)

Anonymous

Thank you! And I hope that your sleeping habits improve!


~~~~~

It was another one of those nights. No matter how much you tossed and turned, you just couldn’t seem to get comfortable. Blanket off, you were too cold. Blanket on, you were too hot. You punched your pillow repeatedly, but it just never seemed to go into the right shape for you. Sighing, you flipped over once more and squeezed your eyes shut, figuring that if sleep didn’t come for you, you were bloody well gonna go after it.

“Geez, what’s happening on your side of the bed?” Dean muttered sleepily from beside you.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you snapped. “Is my not being able to sleep amusing to you?” Immediately, you felt bad. “Sorry. I’m just really tired. I’ve been trying to sleep for hours now.”

“Maybe I could help you sleep,” he suggested.

“Dean,” you said, a note of warning in your voice.

He brushed you off. “Nothing like that. I mean it. Maybe I could sing to you,” he joked. Groaning, you turned away from him.

“You’re not helping!”

“Hey, come on. I’ll be serious now. Come here.” He looped his arm over your waist, pulling you towards him so that your back was flush with his chest. With the blanket off, you found that his body heat was just the right temperature for you. You leaned into him, feeling his hand reach up to your forehead to stroke your temple lightly. “Is this helping?” he whispered. You nodded, shutting your eyes as you allowed him to soothe you.

Just as you started drifting off to sleep, you noticed that Dean was humming a tune that sounded an awful lot like ‘Some Kind Of Monster’ by Metallica. You smiled and drifted off to sleep like that, with Dean’s arm around you and the notes of Metallica in your ears.

~~~~~

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hi can i get a dean imagine where your in a car accident after a fight with dean about a hunt and he feels awful about it and fluff? thanks doll :)

Anonymous

Hey. I hope you like it!

~~~~~

“What the hell was that, Dean?” you fumed, storming into the bunker. You whipped around, folding your arms across your chest and fixing him with a furious expression.

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” he retorted. “What were you thinking? When we have a plan, we stick to it. If I hadn’t saved you -” You snorted, your expression turning to one of utter disbelief.

“Saved me? Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Glaring at him, you took a step closer and drew yourself up to your full height. Through gritted teeth, you said, “Dean, you have a hero complex. And you know what? I was perfectly capable of handling myself until you showed up. The reason that hunt nearly got us both killed was you. Not me.”

Dean reeled back as though he’d been slapped, and you took his brief silence as a moment to exit the bunker, making sure to slam the door behind you. Getting behind the wheel of your car, you pulled away from the bunker. Away from Dean. But the further you drove, the more your anger left you, and in its place the guilt set in. You knew Dean had only been doing what he’d thought was right. You had no right to treat him like that. He’d only been trying to help you.

Making your decision, you made a U-turn, knowing that the back roads were generally pretty quiet, so no one would get in your way. But in all the time that you’d been thinking, you hadn’t even noticed the car that had turned onto the road behind you. You sped off towards Dean, only registering the other vehicle just before the moment of collision. There was the squeal of brakes, and a large smash, and then you blacked out, feeling shards of glass from the windscreen cut you as the airbag slammed into your chest.

—-

When you woke up, you had the strangest sensation that something was tugging against your arm. For a moment, you panicked, and strained to free yourself from its grip. But as consciousness set in properly, you realised that it was an IV, not an attacker. You slumped back against the pillows, realising that you must be in the hospital.

But then something did grab your arm and you froze, turning to look at whoever it was who had you in their clutches. “Dean…” you breathed, relaxing once more as you took in the sight of him. Who else would it have been?

“Y/N, thank God you’re alright,” he answered, giving your hand a tight squeeze. “They told me you’d be okay, but I didn’t want to believe it until I saw you for myself.”

“I’m fine,” you answered, remembering why you’d gone on that drive which had resulted in the accident in the first place. Dean was evidently remembering it too, as you noticed that the guilt had carved itself across his features.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t been fighting with you -”

“Dean,” you interrupted. “It wasn’t your fault. You were only trying to help me, and I was a bitch about it. In fact, just before I crashed, I was turning around to come see you. I didn’t mean any of it - the things I said were horrible. And none of them were true, you have to know that.” You paused, taking a moment before you said the most important thing you had to say. “Dean, I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”

“Y/N, I’m just glad you’re alive. Of course I forgive you,” Dean told you, moving the strands of hair off your forehead so that he could stroke your temple. You smiled at him, loving how he could be so tender and gentle around you even after the things you’d said to him.

“You’re too good for me, Dean Winchester,” you murmured, leaning into the hand that was now cupping your cheek.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. There’s nothing special about me,” he answered, giving you a sad smile.

“Dean,” you said seriously, looking him dead in the eye, “there’s everything special about you.”

~~~~~

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Okey first of all your blog is awesome! Could you write a a Dean imagine where you dance on "Island in the sun" by Weezer?

Anonymous

Thank you so much! Actually, I listened to this song for the first time when I wrote this, and it’s actually pretty catchy. Also, I haven’t really written something like this before, so I hope it’s alright.

~~~~~

You sighed, slamming the lore book shut and watching as a cloud of dust rose up from the pages. You and Dean had been researching for hours, and you still had nothing. But now, the words had blurred into one another and you were seeing the passages without taking anything in. If you were going to have any chance of finding anything out about this creature, you were going to have to take a break.

Standing up, you headed to the radio in the corner of the room, tuning in to your favourite station. As “Island in the Sun” by Weezer came on, you smiled, and an idea popped into your head. “Come on,” you said to Dean, pulling him up from his chair.

“What are you doing?” he asked, staring at you in confusion. “We have research to do -”

“Shhh,” you interrupted, placing a finger over his lips. “Just go with it.” You pulled him into the centre of the room and started swaying in time with the music. Soon enough, he picked up on what you were doing and placed his hands on your waist, leaving you to wrap your arms around his neck.

For once, you were able to do something carefree, something that didn’t involve danger, where there was no pressure to succeed. It was just you and Dean, dancing around the room with stupid grins on your faces. And by the time the final chorus came on, you both sang along.

“On an island in the sun
We’ll be playing and having fun
And it makes me feel so fine
I can’t control my brain.”

You both laughed, pulling away from one another as the final notes of the song died out and the radio switched to a different track. Dean mockingly bowed, as if the two of you were at an old fashioned dance. You grinned, curtsying back. “Who knows?” you joked. “Maybe this will be our song!”

Dean smiled softly at you, gazing at you with a tender expression. “Who knows?”

~~~~~

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Could you write an imagine where the reader surprises Dean by baking all of his favorite pies at once because you see how drained he is and it's just super fluffy?

Anonymous

Hi. I hope you like it!

~~~~~

The sound of the Impala’s engine faded into the distance, leaving the bunker in silence. You knew that Sam was reading up on some lore, but you didn’t want to distract him. So you were left to your own devices until Dean got back tomorrow. He’d left to go interview some witnesses, to try and shed some light on the monster they were hunting.

As you’d said goodbye to him, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He’d been working so hard the past few weeks, and the strain was starting to show. His eyes were lined with bags and he walked as though a large weight was on his shoulders, forcing him to slump and drag himself along. You also knew that he’d been having trouble sleeping lately, which couldn’t have been helping.

You bit your lip, frowning slightly as you thought. You had nothing else to do today, so maybe you could do something for Dean, a nice surprise to take his mind off hunting for the time. Smiling, you headed into the kitchen and grabbed an apron, hoping that you had all the ingredients you would need.

—-

The next day, as you heard the Impala pulling back into the bunker’s garage, you darted out of the kitchen, a huge smile on your face. You had been in a baking frenzy all night, and couldn’t wait to show Dean what you had prepared for him. Sam had even come in at one point and - after you’d explained what you were doing to him - helped for a little while.

“Dean!” you squealed, throwing your arms around him as he came through the door.

“Hey, Y/N,” he laughed wearily, hugging you back. “I take it you missed me?”

“Yep.” You grabbed his hand, tugging him in the direction of the kitchen.

“Hey, I’m drained right now. Do you think we could do this later?” You glanced back at him, taking in his exhaustion. It wouldn’t hurt to wait, you supposed… “Hang on,” Dean added. “Do I smell pie?” You grinned, knowing that there was no way he’d want to go to sleep now.

“Maybe,” you sang, going ahead of him into the kitchen. “Although it rather use it as a plural.” As Dean saw the table, his jaw dropped. Laid out before him were several fresh pies, the most recent one still steaming. “Just a little something I did to surprise you,” you told him. “There’s apple pie, pecan pie and cherry pie.”

“I love you!” Dean exclaimed, swinging you around in his arms. You laughed, begging him to put you back down again. When he did, you looked up at him and saw that through the exhaustion, he was genuinely happy to see what you’d done for him.

“I just thought you could do with a little something to cheer you up,” you said. “I know the last few weeks have been tough on you…” Dean smiled, and it was clearly genuine, despite the tiredness he obviously felt.

“Y/N? You’re awesome,” he uttered.

~~~~~

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Hi! I hope this is what you were after!
~~~~~
Clutching the rim of the toilet seat, you felt the contents of your stomach empty yet again. You leaned back, your nose wrinkling at the smell of vomit. You flushed the toilet, flipping the lid down to...

Hi! I hope this is what you were after!

~~~~~

Clutching the rim of the toilet seat, you felt the contents of your stomach empty yet again. You leaned back, your nose wrinkling at the smell of vomit. You flushed the toilet, flipping the lid down to rest your head against it. The porcelain was cool against your cheek, and it was a welcome relief from the constant nausea you felt.

The stale taste in your mouth was a familiar one, as you had spent the mornings of the past week in this bathroom, heaving up the contents of your stomach. You knew that you should tell Dean about it, but you didn’t know how to. You had no clue as to how he’d react. Would he even want a baby? So you had decided to keep your vomit sessions secret, until you worked out the best way to tell him.

Just as you were getting up to wash your mouth out, you heard the door open behind you. Turning around, you found Dean framed in the doorway. “You alright?” he asked, coming over to rub your back gently as you gave your teeth a brush.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, having spat out the toothpaste and water. “Must’ve just been something I ate.” You were avoiding his eyes, and Dean knew it. He took hold of your chin, turning your face to look at him.

“Just like yesterday morning?” he asked. “And the morning before? And the morning before that?” You squirmed out of his grip, trying not to look guilty. He was eyeing you closely, and you knew that he knew you were hiding something. He knew you better than anyone else, and you had been stupid to think you could hide this from him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Another lie, and is one came out tasting worse than the vomit. Maybe now was the time to tell him, just get it over with. Like ripping off a bandaid.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said quietly. “I know that you’ve been sick the past few mornings, but I didn’t say anything because you didn’t. But it’s gone on for too long, and I want to know what’s wrong.”

You took a deep breath, taking a quick glance up at his eyes. Those green eyes held so much love for you, trusted you so deeply. You could do this. You could tell Dean. He loved you, and he’d love the baby. He would.

“Last week,” you began, “when you and Sam were on a hunt, I went to the doctor because I wasn’t feeling so well. And…Dean, I’m pregnant.” You held your breath, waiting to see his reaction. He was still for a moment, and you worried that it was too soon, that he would freak out. But then his face split into a huge grin, and he wrapped you in his arms.

“We’re having a baby?” he exclaimed. He pulled away from you, running his gaze down your figure before letting his eyes rest on your stomach, where your baby was. There was so much wonder in his expression, and you wished you had told him earlier. He was filled with a joy that you’d never seen in him before.

“Yes, Dean,” you laughed, delighted by his reaction. “I just didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t know how you’d react.” He reluctantly dragged his gaze away from your stomach so that he could meet your eyes. He must’ve sensed that you’d harboured some uncertainty about the situation, because he murmured, “Y/N Y/L/N, you make me the happiest man on Earth.”

~~~~~

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I love your blog! I was wondering if I could request a Dean imagine where the reader and dean had a baby and the reader gets up during the night to check on it and finds a demon in its room.

Anonymous

Thank you! I hope you like this imagine.

~~~~~

The bed sheets felt so good as you climbed into bed, sinking your head into the pillow as the mattress cradled your body. Your eyelids drooped, and it barely even registered when Dean climbed into bed beside you, tucking you under the covers. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before settling himself on his side of the bed. “How was she?” he murmured.

“Mmm, yeah, I got her to sleep,” you replied drowsily. “She won’t sleep through the night, though. God, when people said that we’d get no sleep with a baby, I didn’t realise how literally they meant it.”

Dean let out a humourless laugh. “God, I know. I love her, but man I wish she would stop crying.” You were about to agree, but you felt yourself being pulled under, and you welcomed the much needed rest.

Only a couple of months ago, you had finally become a mother, a title you couldn’t be prouder of. But what you hadn’t expected was just how exhausted it would make you. Many days had passed where you’d drift off to sleep when you were supposed to be looking after the baby, before jerking upright and realising what had just happened, and hating yourself for leaving your baby unattended, even for only a few minutes.

Even on the nights when you did go into a deep sleep, it didn’t last very long. Tonight was no exception. Barely three hours after you’d drifted off, you were woken by crying coming from the baby monitor on your bedside table. Groaning, you sat upright, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Dean was still asleep, so you went to check on your daughter yourself, wanting to let him sleep as much as possible.

Your heart just about stopped as you turned into the nursery. Standing in front of the cot was a man, leaning over your baby. “Dean!” you screamed, as the man’s attention turned to you. But as he faced you, you saw that his eyes were black, and you knew that this was no man. It was a demon.

“Please, leave her alone,” you pleaded. “She’s just a baby! Take me instead!” The demon took a step towards you, using his power to force you up against the wall. Your breath cut off and you started choking, watching helplessly as he turned back to your little girl. A rushing sound filled your ears, making it almost impossible to hear the crying coming from the cot. You were sure that you were going to pass out, and you had no idea what the demon would do to your baby when you did.

But just as the darkness starting creeping in on the edge of your vision, a figure darted into the room, headed straight for the demon. Dean. Slowly, your heart rate returned to normal. Everything would be okay now that he was here. He was going to fix everything.

You saw him stab the demon and then you were free, slumping back against the wall with a hand to your throat, gasping for breath. Dean was there in an instant, cradling your face and asking over and over again if you were alright. Nodding, you stumbled over to the cot, where your baby was crying.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you gasped, picking her up and rocking her in your arms. “Shh, sweetheart, it’s alright.” Gradually, the cries began to die down, and soon she was sleeping in your arms.

“Is she alright?” Dean murmured, reaching for her. You handed her over, checking her for any physical signs of harm.

“I-I think so,” you shakily replied. “But what if he’s done something to her?” You thought of Sam and what had happened to him when he was six months old. Dean must’ve been thinking along the same lines, because he said, “I’ll get Cas to come check her out. Why don’t you go back to bed? I’ll look after her.”

“Dean -” you began to protest.

“No,” he interrupted. “You’re exhausted. Please. Just let me do this.” Seeing the pleading look in his eyes, you consented, turning to leave the room. You had just reached the doorway when you heard a muffled sob behind you. Looking back, you saw Dean’s body shaking slightly, but he kept a firm grip on your baby.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” you asked, hurrying back to his side. He shook his head, at a loss for words.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” he finally choked out. “I thought it would be like Mum all over again. Like Jess. When I heard you scream, all I could think was that I would run in here to find you burning on the ceiling.”

In that moment, he looked so broken and lost. All you could think of was that little boy, one who had lost far too much, and gained so much responsibility. Dean deserved a better life than hunting, and just as he’d gotten one, this demon had shown up in your daughter’s room to remind the both of you that sometimes, happy endings just aren’t possible.

“Dean,” you said firmly, looking him directly in the eye. “I am still here. I know what could’ve happened, but it didn’t. I’m still here, and I’m not going to leave you,” you promised. “We’re going to get through this. Together.”

Dean looked up at you, a desperate look in his eyes. But there was hope there too, like he thought that the two of you could do this. He knew that you weren’t going to leave, unlike so many other people in his life. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

~~~~~

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Jul 9

Hi sweetie ! Please could you write a fic with Dean being jealous because another guy touched you ?

Anonymous

Hey! Um, okay, for the record, I know nothing about pool. Absolutely nothing. But I really wanted to include it in this imagine. So I had to go on wikihow to write this. So if anything’s wrong or whatever, please forgive me.

~~~~~

There was a clunk as the cue ball shot out from where you’d hit it, bumping into the other balls on the table. You straightened up, watching in satisfaction as a couple of the balls went into the pockets. You were just taking a swig of your beer when a voice close to your ear said, “You’re pretty good at that.” Turning around, you found yourself face to face with an incredibly attractive guy, probably around Sam’s age.

“Thank you,” you replied, giving him a coy smile as you put your empty bottle down on a side table. The music and laughter of the bar made it hard to hear, so you had to lean in very close to catch his next words.

“Of course,” he said, “I would offer a couple of suggestions for you to improve your technique.”

“Excuse me?” you answered, leaning away from him and pretending to take offence at his words. “My technique is flawless!”

He smirked at you, reaching out to take the pool cue from you. “There’s always room for improvement,” he told you, giving you a wink. You felt your face flush, and hoped that the poor lighting kept your face hidden from him. “The key,” he continued, turning away from you to face the table, “is in your stance.”

You watched as he positioned himself over the table, lining up the cue with the cue ball. He paused for a moment, before drawing the cue back and sending it into the ball. It shot forwards, hitting the other balls and sending them ricocheting off the edges of the table, with several of them sinking in the pockets. “Impressive,” you nodded, glancing at him in admiration.

“Here. You try.” He held the cue out to you, watching as you grabbed it and took up your position at the edge of the table. As you started to line it up, you felt him come up behind you, his arms reaching around to shift you into a better position. You had to stifle a gasp as his warm breath grazed your neck. “Good,” he whispered. “Now take a shot.”

You let the pool cue go, and laughed as the hit turned out better than it had ever gone before. But you barely had a moment to enjoy the shot before you felt the warmth of your admirer being jerked away from you. “What the -?” You spun around, only to find Dean pulling the guy you’d been talking to away.

“What are you doing, Dean?” Last you knew, he and Sam had been talking to a couple of attractive women over by the bar. You wondered if he’d had too much to drink, but he didn’t seem to be hurting the guy - just keeping him off you. “I’m so sorry,” you said to the guy. “This is my friend, Dean. But honestly, I don’t know what’s gotten into him!”

“It’s alright,” he replied, sending a tight smile in your direction.

“Could I speak to you for a minute, Y/N?” Dean asked stiffly. You were about to say no, when the guy you were interested in glanced between the two of you and excused himself, leaving you to face Dean on your own.

“What the hell, Dean?” you demanded. “You just sent him away! And I didn’t even get his name or his number!” You felt yourself growing angry, and you glanced at Dean in disbelief. What right did he have to choose who you spoke with when you went out? And it wasn’t as if the guy had been hurting you - it was an innocent conversation. Perhaps a tad flirty, but innocent none the less. What right did Dean have to interrupt?

“I didn’t like the way he was touching you.” With every minute that passed, Dean seemed to grow more and more uncomfortable. Which served him right, seeing as he had ruined your evening.

“Dean, he was helping me with my pool!” you exclaimed. But the longer you looked at him, the more you noticed his fidgeting and nervousness. Dean, the guy who was always confident (and perhaps the tiniest bit arrogant at times), was nervous? “Oh. My. God,” you said, finally understanding. “You were jealous!”

“I was not!” Dean protested weakly. But he couldn’t meet your eye, which didn’t go far in the way of convincing you.

“Yeah, right!” you laughed, putting the pool cue back. You gazed at him thoughtfully for a moment, smirking slightly, before standing up on tiptoes so that your mouth was in line with his ear. “You know,” you whispered, “If you ever want to play pool with me, all you have to do is ask.”

~~~~~

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I love your writing and I was wondering if I could have one with Dean and the reader is caught on a hunt? Thanks :)

Anonymous

Hi. I hope this was what you meant! And sorry I didn’t post this earlier. It’s just Saturday night, I was out all day and Supanova and then I went to a party, so I didn’t get home until 11:15pm. And then yesterday, I had homework, and then I finished Faking It, started Teen Wolf and watched more Once Upon A Time. But I mean it this time! I’m going to go back to my regular updates again!

~~~~~

You sat on the edge of the footpath, shivering under the blanket that the paramedics had given you for shock. The edges of the blanket were clutched tightly in your hands, pulled tightly together underneath your chin. When the emergency services had arrived, you’d told them all about the attack, how the creature had leapt forward, pinning the man down under its weight. How the man had gone limp, his face turning pale as the blood made its way from his body. How you’d been standing on the other side of the road, waiting for the bus when you saw it happen.

But that was only the half of it. The one thing you hadn’t mentioned, which you couldn’t even make sense of yourself, was the fact that the creature you had mentioned wasn’t really a creature at all. It was a woman.

She’d emerged from the trees lining the road, her eyes fixed on the man. She hadn’t even noticed you watching as she lunged forward, her teeth extending out from her mouth, burying themselves in the man’s neck.

If you were living between the pages of a book, you knew that this would be the part where the protagonist is introduced to the world of the supernatural, when they see this attack and demand answers. The part where they find out that vampires are real.

But this wasn’t a book. The movies are fiction. None of this was real - you must’ve just imagined the whole thing. And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this had just looked so real. And try as you might, you couldn’t come up with any other plausible explanation for what you’d just seen.

“Hey.” You looked up, finding two men in suits approaching you. “I’m Agent Angus. This is my partner, Agent Young. We’re with the FBI.”

“Really? The FBI are involved? Wow. I didn’t realise that you guys investigated this sort of thing,” you said, glancing between the two men.

“Well, we were passing through and thought we’d better check it out,” the shorter of the two explained.

“I heard that you were on the other side of the road when the attack took place,” the taller agent said. “Could you tell us what you saw? Any details you can provide will be really helpful.”

You froze under their watchful stares. How the hell were you supposed to tell them what had just happened without being written off as crazy? And it wasn’t like these were small town cops - they were the FBI. “I…um-I didn’t really see much,” you lied. “I heard a scream so I looked up and I just saw him lying there with blood smeared everywhere.”

“Did you see what attacked the man?” the taller man asked patiently.

“No, I didn’t,” you replied, avoiding their eyes. In your peripheral vision, you could see them turn to look at one another, and the shorter man muttered something to the taller man, who nodded and walked off.

“Hey,” the remaining FBI agent said, crouching down in front of you. “My name’s Dean, and I can tell you that whatever you saw, whatever you think happened, I’m not gonna think you’re crazy.”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” you questioned shakily.

“Look,” Dean began, “I have seen a lot of weird crap in my time. And trust me, nothing about this attack seems normal. And whatever killed that guy, it’s going to be very dangerous, and a lot more people could end up like him,” he said, nodding towards the sheet-covered stretcher that the paramedics were carting off. “Please. Tell me.”

You don’t know what it was. Maybe it was the pleading tone in his voice, or the fact that he acknowledged that the attack you’d just witnessed was far from ordinary. But whatever it was, you felt safe around him, so you decided to trust him. “I was just standing there, waiting for the bus to come and this…this woman just lunged at the man, and-and she just pinned him underneath her body and it was like she drank his blood or something and I know that makes no sense but that’s what I saw.” Throughout your recount, you’d gradually gotten more and more worked up, to the point where you couldn’t say anymore because your throat had closed up.

“It’s okay,” Dean told you, shifting so that he sat on the curb beside you, rubbing a soothing hand in circles on your back. “What you saw? That was a vampire. My brother and I…we hunt that kind of thing. Stop them hurting people. And I know that it seems overwhelming right now, but everything’s going to work out alright. Sam and I are going to kill this thing, and then you can forget all about it and go back to living your life.”

“What did you mean by ‘that kind of thing?’” you hiccuped, wiping your eyes with the hem of your sleeve.

“Huh?”

“You said 'that kind of thing,’” you explained. “That would imply that there are other things like that out there. What are they?”

“Uh, well…” Dean started, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “There are werewolves, wendigoes, demons, angels -”

“Hang on,” you interrupted incredulously. “You hunt angels?”

“Believe it or not, they aren’t all as great as they’re cracked up to be,” Dean replied frankly.

“So tell me more about them, then. Because you sound like you’re crazy, but what I saw before was crazier, so I can’t really judge.”

“Now really isn’t the best time…” Dean said.

“Oh. Right. Sorry, I’m being stupid. I’m sure you and your brother are really busy.” You lowered your gaze, trying to hide your embarrassment from him. Of course he wasn’t going to sit around explaining his life to you. Why would you ever think otherwise?

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he hastily assured you. “It’s just that Sam and I have to sort this out. But maybe…tonight we could…go out somewhere? And I’ll explain it to you over drinks?” he asked nervously.

“Like a date?” you asked shyly.

“Well, if you wanted it to be,” Dean replied.

You smiled, the first time you had done so since witnessing the attack. “I think I’d like that.”

~~~~~

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