accidentally misspelling “Dean” as “Dan” when I’m writing fic is like the MOST uncomfortable thing

Dean is so not a Dan

Dean is anti-Dan

Dean is completely antithetical to everything a Dan is and a Dan stands for 

it sucks having to take a precious moment to reassess my life and my place on this earth just because I missed the letter “e” when I got into a typing groove


“Are you gonna keep giving me the silent treatment, or are we gonna talk about what happened?” Dean asked from the doorway where he stood, his arms crossed over his chest.

“What is there to talk about?” you replied, your voice heavy and tired.

Dean shrugged, taking a few steps into your room. “Maybe the fact that you’ve been avoiding me for the past three days.”

“Dean, you know why I’ve been ignoring you,” you sighed, setting down the book you were reading and massaging your temples. “I’m not doing it for fun. Contrary to what you might believe, this isn’t enjoyable for me either. But if you still don’t get why I’m mad then maybe I need to rethink this whole relationship.”


A Single Man Tear (Part 1)

Imagine: You meet Dean and John Winchester on a hunt after many years of being apart. You and Dean have feelings for each other but he is reluctant to make a move because he fears what his father will think. Dean and his father get into a fight and after you comfort Dean and thank him for standing up for you.

Characters: Dean and John Winchester

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Type: angst, fluff

Warnings: language, violence (a little)

Words: 2468 (wow)

A/N: I really like this fic because I get to say everything I’ve wanted to Dean about how great he is and how is loved. Also I’m sorry I haven’t been writing recently, I currently have no Internet. Finally if you have sent me any requests know that they are not forgotten, I just haven’t been able to see them yet. Thank you for understanding and as always send feedback and request whenever you want.

“I really fucking hate Shape shifters.” You mutter to yourself through gritted teeth as you run down the hallways of the abandoned building.

You thought this case involved only one shifter, you have never been more wrong. As it would turn out a whole freaking family of shifters had settled itself in the town. Now normally you wouldn’t have bothered them if they were living peacefully… If being the key word in this situation. The shifters had taken it upon themselves to kidnap random people from around town and then replace them, living their lives. So naturally one of your hunting friends had called you and put you on the case.

Unfortunately for you, now, you have neglected to bring backup so you are basically screwed. The hallway winds to the right and as you make the turn you bump into something warm and solid that causes you to loose your footing and stumble back. You raise your gun at the object, ready to fire.

The second before you squeeze the trigger you get a good look at the figure in front of you and freeze.

“Damn Y/N, taking on an entire clan of shifters on your own with no backup was something I never thought you’d do.” Says the green-eyed man before you giving you a small smirk.

“Dean Winchester.” You state looking at the hunter before you, trying to hide your relief and surprise at seeing him “Wait a second… How do I know that’s really you?” You ask raising an eyebrow at the man.

He chuckles at your question “Well I’m glad to know that you haven’t forgotten the basics.” He teases “And as for the whole shifter thing here.” He beckons you to give him your knife, and you comply, taking the silver blade he makes a shallow cut on his forearm.

When there is no reaction from his body you exhale and crack a smile for the first time since you started this hunt. Dean grins back at you and takes a step towards you embracing you in his strong arms. You inhale the familiar smell that you have permanently come to associate with Dean: leather, cinnamon and the faintest hint of whisky. Just as you are about to say something a voice behind you cuts you off.

“I don’t want to ruin this moment but may I remind both of you that we are still in a building full of shape shifters.”

You jump slightly in Dean’s arms and spin around to see whom the voice belongs to. You look up and see the one only John Winchester. He looks wearier since the last tie you saw him, his face is unshaven and there are dark circles under hi eyes.

“Nice to see you as well sir.” You say as you shake his hand. At that second John pulls you towards him roughly by the hand and you catch a glimpse of Dean moving in your peripheral vision.

You stumble against John and turn around just as Dean shoots a shifter point blank in the chest.

“You okay?” Dean asks turning to you.

“Yeah I’m fine. Thank you both.” You say looking at each of them in turn.

“We should keep moving.” Is all you get from the eldest Winchester before he turns around and stars heading down the hall way. You and Dean exchange a glance before swiftly following him.

Silently creeping down he halls you stick together and effectively take out any shifters you come across. John has you stop outside a set of double doors before he turns to you and says in a whisper:

“We have gone deep enough into the building that this is probably the center which means that the majority of shifters are here. We are going to have to take them out quickly and quietly so we don’t alert the entire building on where we are. Now I know my gun only has six shots left. Dean where are you at?”

“I ran out of silver bullets two shifters ago. I only got my knife now.” He says “Y/N how ‘bout you?”

“I’m out as well, like you, I only have my knife.” You say.

“Alright so listen to what we are going to do. Y/N will go in fist with my gun, from what I remember you have the better aim amongst the three of us, Dean and I will follow each with our knives. Once you are out take out your knife and we’ll have to take care of the rest up close. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” You and Dean say in unison. John hands you his gun while he and Dean take out their knives. You nod to show you’re ready the men stand back as you kick the door open and immediately fire at the first shifter you see.

Soon you’re out of bullets and there are still plenty of shifters to deal with. Taking out your knife you lunge at the monster closest to you, tackling it to the ground before stabbing it once in the chest.

What feels like hours pass by but more shifters continue to appear. You are now fighting back to back with John and Dean as shifters circle you from all sides.

“Well this isn’t going quite like I planned it.” Says John.

“Dad things never go according to plan.”

“Then make a new plan.” You say turning and facing both of them “Give ‘em hell.” You pull out a second knife from a sheath on your hip before spinning on your heel and taking on the oncoming shifters.

*1 hour later*

By he time the last shifter hits the floor the lot of you are a mess. John has multiple cuts and bruises all over his body, the most severe being a cut on his upper arm. Dean and you are significantly more banged up, Dean has a nasty head wound and you have a long cut across your abdomen.

Making your way out of the building is, thankfully, a lot easier than you had originally thought and in no time you are standing outside panting and covered in blood.

“Do you have a place to crash for the night?” You ask them as you all limp towards your cars.

“Yeah we’ve got a room at a motel in town, right next to the Moonlight Diner.” Replies Dean.

“Really I’m staying there as well. Maybe when we get back we can get some food or something.” You suggest.

“That’d be great!” Dean agrees enthusiastically while John remains silent.

“Awesome, see you soon.” You wave before limping to your car and practically falling into the driver’s seat. You wince at the position your body is in and look down at your stomach. The cut hasn’t stopped bleeding and if you don’t treat it you might need stitches and those aren’t going to be pretty.

Driving with the pedal to the metal you make it to your motel room in a matter of minutes. After getting out of the car you limp to the trunk and grab your first aid kit and move towards your room; you fumble with the room keys for a minute but then manage to get the door open.

Just as you close you bedroom door you see a pair of headlights and hear the familiar roar of the Impala’s engine but you are getting too dizzy to properly register the noise. You stumble towards the bed and seat yourself down, glancing down at your shirt you see it’s soaked. With a shaking hand you lift it and survey the damage, your eyes widen slightly you didn’t remember it being that bad at the time.

The gash runs the length of your whole abdomen and seems to be about half an inch deep. Yup this is definitely going to need stitches. You mentally cringe at the thought of having to give yourself that many stitches, sure you’ve done it lots of times but they were always much smaller cuts.

Reaching for the first aid kit you pull out the thread and fumble around for a needle until the box tilts oven and falls, spilling its contents all over the motel floor.

“For fucks sake!” You yell through gritted teeth, half out of frustration half out of pain. Without the adrenaline you are really starting to feel every single bruise and cut along your body.

And urgent knock on the door snaps you out of your cursing spree.

“Who is it?” You ask loudly, not having the strength to get up off the floor.

“Uh Y/N it’s Dean… Are you okay?” You hear an uncertain Dean ask through the door.

“I’m f- Actually I could use some help please. The door is open.”

The handle turns and a confused Winchester sticks his head through the door. His green eyes widen as he takes in your form on the floor and the blood that is steadily seeping through your shirt and onto the floor.

He is by your side in an instant helping you up and siting you on the bed carefully. You murmur a small ‘thanks’ not really wanting to speak through the pain. His hands go to lift your shirt up but they stop, his eyes flicker to yours asking if it’s okay, you nod.

Very carefully he lift the fabric away from your wound, his eyes widen for the second time as he sees the torn flesh of your stomach.

“Son of a bitch.” He breathes “Y/N this is nasty and it’s gonna need stiches for sure.”

“I know.” You grunt “I was going to do it but the god-dammed box tipped over and…”

“Hey Y/N it’s okay I can help. Here let me.” He says as he takes the thread from your blood-soaked hands “I’ll be right back just wait here a second.”

He dashes out the door and to his room. When he appears again he is holding a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a needle in his teeth.

“Alright now this is going to sting… a lot.” He warns you before spilling some of the spirits over your open wound.

“Aaah! Son. Of. A. Bitch.” You grunt through clenched teeth, but you give him the ‘okay’ to continue.

Once the wound has been cleaned Dean threads the needle and begins the stitches.

One bottle of hunter’s helper and seventeen stitches later Dean covers your middle with a bandage and helps you to your feet.

“Thanks for the help Dean.”

“Any time Y/N.”

“Hey I’m gonna get cleaned up and I can meet you at the diner in about 20 minutes if you’re still up for grabbing some burgers.” You offer.

“Sweetheart I’m always up for burgers.” He says giving you his signature smirk “See you in 20 minutes.” He winks at you and walks out the door.

Once Dean is out the door you peel off your shirt and toss it directly in the trashcan, it’s completely ruined so there’s no point in keeping it. Next you take off your bloody jeans and leave them in a pile by the bed.

Slowly you make your way to the bathroom where you look at yourself in the mirror. Quickly surveying the damage you see that you have a small cut on your cheek and lip and several scratches and bruises that litter the rest of your body, the most severe being the one on your abdomen.

Carefully you unwrap the bandage Dean had wrapped around your waist and take off your undergarments. You step into the shower and set the water to scalding. The hot water hits your back with the perfect amount of pressure relieving the tense muscles. You let the water erase all the blood and dirt from your hair and body feeling clean for the first time in days.

While in the shower you try desperately to keep your mind blank but you keep finding your thoughts drifting towards the green-eyed Winchester. You can’t seem to stop thinking about the way his fingers gently brushed your skin or how he handled you so carefully almost caringly.

Also you seem incapable of ignoring your body’s response to almost EVERYTHING that man does, weather it’s smiling or laughing or touching you, you immediately get butterflies and feel your face heating up. This isn’t something new to you either. You used to know Dean Winchester back when you lived at Bobby Singer’s house.

Bobby was always like a second father to you and through him you were introduced to John Winchester and his family. You went on your very first hunts with the boys and you knew that they would always have your back. And even then, you admit to yourself, you had a crush on the older brother. But then Sam decided to go to college after high school and you didn’t see much of the boys after that.

Thus whatever had grown between you and Dean broke off just like your contact with them. Well it had until now, at least for you; you know you still have some sort of feelings for Dean even if he might not.

Once you have deemed yourself clean you step out of the shower and towel yourself dry. You ruffle through one of your bags and decide to just wear something casual which for you entails ripped jeans and a faded Zeppelin T-shirt. Smiling you pull out the shirt, it had been one of Dean’s that he had leant to you years ago and is now your favorite.

Glancing at the clock on the nightstand you see it’s time to go meet the Winchesters for dinner. With your hair still slightly damp you lock your motel door and make your way to the adjacent diner.  

A/N: This is part 1 to a multi-part story. Please let me know what you think!

Dean looked directly in her eyes.

 He maked her feel awkward but she didnt care about it at all. 

One of the things that she loved about him was his eyes, especially, when he was begging her. 

Then, he suddenly changed his gaze and said with angry voice:

 “Bring me some pie”. 

But she didnt concern about that, the only thing that she could see was his clear, green eyes which were looking in her soul.