missing my boo boo

Tonight all the monsters gonna dance– we’re comin’ to get ya! 


            callin’ all the    callin’ll all the

                          CALLIN’ ALL THE MONSTERS

Ferb would totally sneak his girlfriend into the Creepa Crew….



All I want for Christmas…

Summary: Tired of seeing Y/N and Dean obliviously flirt, Cas and Sam team up to perform a Christmas miracle.

Written by: Anonymous

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count:  2056

Warnings: Language, blood mention, alcohol, fluffy as hell

A/N: Trying to get back in the swing of things, and apparently fluff is the way to do that.

You set your bottle of beer down on the library table, swallowing down the last of it before looking up to the Winchesters. Both brothers had empty bottles sitting in front of them too.

“Looks like I should go get us some more,” you said, earning a grateful smile from Sam and a grin from Dean. With a sigh, you swung your legs off of Dean’s lap where they’d been settled. “Don’t miss me too much,” you said to Dean, winking as you stood. You grabbed the three bottles before spinning on your heel.

“At least I’ll have a good view.” Dean watched as you walked out of the room, grinning when you laughed. When he looked over at Sam, he was met with a disbelieving shake of the head.

Sam had settled back in his chair, arms resting on either side of his laptop as he abandoned the research for their case. “When are you gonna ask Y/N out?”

Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes and looking down at the open lore book in front of him. “It’s just messing around. We’re close enough friends for that.”

This time, Sam scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest when Dean furrowed his brow. “Yeah, and the way you smiled like an idiot when she laughed doesn’t mean anything,” Sam said, watching Dean flush and squirm under his gaze. “Dude, she’d say yes. Even Cas asked when you two got together, so I’d say it’s obvious that you two like each other.”

Dean was just about to respond when you called out, “Chips or popcorn?”

Your words were muffled but both brothers heard enough to simultaneously yell, “Popcorn!”

When they heard the quiet beeps of the microwave, Dean set his eyes back on his brother with a scowl. “We’re friends, Sam. Friends.” Dean put his forearms on the table and leaned forward, a muscle working in his jaw.

“Bullshit. I’m friends with her and we don’t flirt all the time.”

“Sam, drop it.” Dean slammed the book closed, swinging out of his seat to go put it back and find another. As he had effectively ended the conversation, Sam settled his head in the palm of his hand as he leaned on the table, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the table.

You walked in with your arm around two buckets of popcorn and holding three bottles of beer in your hands, managing to balance it up until the table where you laid out everything. You looked at everything for a moment before making eye-contact with Sam and saying, “I guess it’s time to get back to work.”


What was only supposed to be another two or three hours of research turned into six, and it was only cut short when you and Dean fell asleep. Sam looked at the two of you, recalling the non-stop flirting since you’d met and wondering how both of you could be so oblivious.

Instead of putting your feet on his lap again, you’d grabbed a book and leaned up against Dean. He’d turned just enough to toss one arm around your shoulder, and that’s how the two of you had fallen asleep.

Despite it being disgustingly adorable, Sam also knew you two would be stiff when you woke up.

Sam scooped up his laptop, going into the kitchen to grab some water and shooting up a prayer for Cas. “Cas, it’d be great if we could work on-“

He hadn’t finished his sentence when Cas appeared beside him, making Sam jump and slosh some water onto the floor. “They’re asleep on each other. Is that common for humans who aren’t in a relationship?” Cas tilted his head, having not noticed how surprised Sam was, and looked on with curious eyes.

Sam cleared his throat. “Depends on how close they are. We’ve gotta find a way to get them together; it’s driving me crazy watching them.”

Cas sighed, pressing his lips together and furrowing his brows. “If a cupid was around, we could ask,” Cas began, pausing and narrowing his eyes. “It is likely that they are ‘meant to be’.” Cas used air quotes around the last part of his sentence, something Sam wasn’t sure where he’d learned.

He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure neither of them would be happy that their minds got messed with. I don’t…” Sam’s sentence trailed off as he looked at the lights you’d insisted they hung all around the bunker. He smiled, looking over to Cas. “I think I’ve got an idea.”


You woke up when you felt Dean shift, his arm tightening around your shoulders. You felt your face flush and a lopsided grin tug your lips when you realized you’d fallen asleep on him. You snuggled back into him, relishing his warmth as you closed your eyes. You turned your head just enough to hear his steady heartbeat, something that only encouraged the smile.

Eventually, his breathing paused for just a moment. Tilting your head back slightly, you caught sight of Dean blearily opening his eyes. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty. I was just about to try a kiss to wake you up.”

The laugh he let out was gruff from sleeping, and he ran his hand down his face. Dean wanted to keep his hand over his cheeks longer, hoping to hide the pink tinting his cheeks. “Wish I would’ve slept longer then,” he said as you slid back fully into your seat and stretched your arms above you.

There was what sounded like a soft bell above the two of you and you both looked up to see mistletoe hanging right above the chairs. You didn’t question how it’d gotten there, too preoccupied with snapping your eyes to Dean and coughing as you shoved yourself up from the chair.

Dean pushed himself up too, his hand coming up so he could rub the back of his neck and he cleared his throat. “Who hung that up?”

You shook your head, disappointment settling in your stomach when you saw him glaring up at the mistletoe. “No idea. Here, I’ll get it down,” you offered, climbing onto a chair and reaching up to grab the plant.

Dean knew it had to be Sam and he was pissed; at the same time, seeing you clutch the plant in your hand and look up at him with a flush staining your cheeks and wide eyes made him regret his previous reaction.

You stood, staring at each other, for way longer than you probably should’ve before you scrambled out of the library to hide in your room.

Cas and Sam watched Dean watch you leave before he put his hands on his head and mumbled incoherent chastisement to himself. They glanced at each other, both frustrated beyond belief.


Sam was angrily impressed at how far you and Dean went to avoid the mistletoe he and Cas were putting up. Usually, you were at least two feet away from Dean, if not across the room. Any time either of you so much as felt an inkling that any mistletoe would appear, you both left the room. It got to the point that if that soft bell sound so much as started to sound, regardless of what was happening, one of you would scramble out of the room.

“At this point, if they got together before New Years I’d be impressed. Before Christmas and it’d be a miracle.” Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked away from Cas and over to where the two of you were awkwardly talking while sitting apart from each other.

Cas looked even more distraught than Sam. Of course, he was typically more blunt with his feelings, so you two tiptoeing around your mutual attraction was frustrating for him. He saw Dean get up, hearing him ask if there was anything specific he, Sam, or you needed from the store before he grabbed his keys and headed to the garage.

Sam almost choked on the cookie (you’d insisted on baking for the holidays) he’d been eating when Cas walked toward you and asked, “Why won’t you initiate a relationship with Dean?”

You looked like a deer caught in headlights: eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar, and you were mid-flip of a page when you paused your movement.

“It’s not like that Cas. We’re just friends; it’s harmless flirting.” Sam rolled his eyes at the excuse he’d heard from Dean, seeing you swallow hard and avoid eye contact with Cas.

Cas narrowed his eyes. “No. The two of you think about each other often and are clearly attracted to each other.”

Now you narrowed your eyes and, despite your flaming cheeks and undeniable embarrassment, shoved yourself up. “What, have you been reading our minds?”

Cas shrugged. “When you are in the same room, your thoughts are hard to ignore.”

You let out a strangled, exasperated groan and stormed off, slamming the door of your room behind you.


Two days before Christmas and you were all sitting in the library, patching each other up from a hunt at a fraternity party where you killed Mok Chi, the Mayan God of Death. His worshipers, back when polytheism was prevalent, would make ritual human sacrifices, usually while under the influence of alcohol or psychedelic plants.

What better place to prey on people who were high or drunk than a party on a college campus?

He’d been the devil on their shoulder, so to speak, and had convinced four students to commit murder in the past month. He was harder to kill than originally anticipated.

Sam had a stab wound in his shoulder, Dean had a slice across his forearm along with his bloody knuckles, and you had small cuts from broken glass as well as what were going to turn into bruises in a few days.

“Shit,” Dean hissed out as you disinfected his cut and then his knuckles. When Cas appeared, the three of you heaved sighs of relief. “Damn, your timing’s great. Could you fix us up?”

Cas nodded, pressing his fingers to each of your heads before moving to stand beside Sam. As they started talking quietly, you grabbed a couple wet paper towels and started to clean the dried blood remaining.

“Thanks for tackling that guy off me,” you said.

Dean laughed. “Any time, sweetheart.”

Before either of you could say anything else, that familiar bell sounded throughout the room. You chewed your lip, glancing up at it before turning your gaze on Dean. He was still looking up at the mistletoe.

You took one step over to him, grabbing his flannel and using your other hand to gently turn his head to face you. Barely acknowledging his surprise, you closed the gap between your lips.

There was no hesitation when Dean wrapped one arm around your waist and put the other at the nape of your neck, fingers carding through the hair resting there. You did the same, fingers gently resting in his hair.

Dean was surprisingly gentle and slow with the kiss, plush lips molding to yours with the slightest taste of the whiskey he’d taken a swig of before you’d started to clean his wounds. It felt natural to be kissing you, something he’d imagined too many times to count, and it was also way better than anything he could’ve thought of.

You both gasped in breaths in between kisses, making up for all the times neither of you had made a move in the past weeks. Sam and Cas couldn’t help their victorious grins, giving each other a high-five.

Breaths heavy, you pulled apart and smiled at each other. “Damn,” he said, voice filled with awe as he settled his hand on your lower back.

“That good of a kisser, huh?” The cocky smirk you sent him made Dean laugh and his heart flutter, green eyes alight with happiness and his lips pinker than usual.

“I dunno, I’ll have to test it again,” he murmured, inching closer.

“As many times as you need to, Winchester.” You closed the rest of the distance, silently thanking Cas and Sam over and over and knowing Cas heard you. This was all you’d wanted for Christmas, and you hadn’t known it until you had Dean’s lips against yours while all your senses were enveloped by him.