Hey, Jude - A Supernatural Imagine (Dean x Reader)
Summary: When things go wrong during a hunt, Dean blames himself while you try your best to cheer him up with a little help from The Beatles.
Warnings: None, fluff
Requested by anon
Dean stormed across the dirt trail, knocking the brush out of his face as he scrambled to find his way back to the road from the thick woods. As soon as he saw the Impala, he let out a small sigh of relief but his frustration was still overwhelmingly present. Exasperated, he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and leaned up against his pride and joy, baby.
As he buried his head in his arms, hiding his face from the white light of the full moon, Dean felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. He turned back to find you staring at him with concerned eyes. You shared an edgy moment of silence until Dean spoke.
“They were just kids,” Dean lamented.
“I know but we did the best that we could,” you said. “Dean, it wasn’t your fault.”
What was supposed to be an old school case, a smooth and easy werewolf takedown, turned out to be a catastrophe. The pair of you had tracked this wolf down as it stalked dangerously close to a popular campsite. And tonight, it just so happened to be occupied by an elementary school field trip group.
A/N: This is my entry for Juju’s fluffy birthday challenge! Prompt is in bold :) @jared-padaloveme
“Mmghhh, no don’t leave me here! Save me please” you murmur, a note of panic in your raspy voice.
Sam raises his head from the pillow, amused, and looks over at your sleeping body. Your cotton tee shirt is bunched up on your stomach, and your legs are splayed across the bed. The covers were discarded long ago before the speaking began.
“Sam, save me from the dragon please! You have to help me, I’m the princess, and I have to take care of my people!” You whimper, slowly reaching a louder volume. Sam is sitting up now, staring down upon you with interest and curiosity.
“Dean,” you roll your eyes and sit next to him, looking at the row of empty glasses in front of him. “Are you done yet?”
“Y/N!” he smiles widely and pushes a glass towards you, thinking that it would slide, but it simply falls down, spilling the alcohol.
“Ok, hon. You are done for tonight,” you grab his hand. “Come on, Dean. I have to get you home.”
“Why do you even care?”
“Bobby wouldn’t want you to just die here,” you murmur, knowing that he will get furious now.
“Don’t. Mention,” he tries to point at you but is too drunk to see where you are. “Bobby.”
“Dean,” you try to smile and look at the bartender, handing him the money. “We have to go.”
“No!” you cover your face.
“Please, Dean. Please, we have the funeral tomorrow,” Bobby’s funeral is tomorrow. The actual one. Real. “Let’s go and sleep now. C’mon,” he nods and blindly follows you, holding your hand. He reminds you of a hurt child, too drunk to be an adult. You get back to the motel and watch him fall on the bed, moaning something, yet still holding your hand, so you end up sitting next to him, with your head on the soft hair. “Oh, Dean… Why? Is it easier that way?”
“Shut up,” he mumbles and pulls you closer, making you fall on the pillow next to him. “Sleep.”
“Let me go,” you pull away and get the aspirin to give it to him in the morning when Dean will not be even partially human because of the headache. Then you get back in bed and look at Sam, asleep on the next bed, holding himself. Dean murmurs something, pulling you closer and hiding his face on your shoulder, so you just put a hand on his shoulder and close your eyes, trying not to think about what you will go through tomorrow.
“Gotcha,” you suddenly hear Dean murmur through the sleepiness, and you smile, plant a short kiss on his forehead and fall asleep, knowing that as long as you are together, nightmares won’t come.
A/N: I’m not on a drill team, so please feel free to correct me if anything is wrong or sounds dumb.
Request: hey i know requests are open but i don’t wanna bug you but i was wondering if you could write something where reader is on her school’s drill team in highschool and she’s basically a bff to the brothers but one day dean comes to pick her up from practice on a saturday and sees her dancing and just yes please?
Dancing seemed like a strange thing to do considering your profession, yet here you were, practicing with your drill team of two years. When you first joined, your father had been against it, he wanted you to focus on hunting, but he finally gave in. You had gone to the same school all your life, but you really only had two friends. Sam and Dean Winchester. They had moved here six months ago, and you had soon found out that they too, were hunters. Sam was four years younger than you, but Dean was in most of your classes, and you had really managed to create a strong bond with him. Dean had always teased you for dancing on the weekends when after practice you’d go kill a vampire, but you didn’t care. In fact, Dean was picking you up this afternoon.
Your team was meeting for their last practice before the performance, and all the girls were scattered across the lawn of the school oval. You however, were seated alone, putting on your shoes. The afternoon sun shone obnoxiously in your eyes as you tied your second shoelace. The captain of the team approached the group of teens and waved her hands about in a hurried motion. You stood from your place on the bleachers, tucked your bag under the bench, and ran down to the field. All the girls were dressed in identical short dresses, almost like cheerleading outfits, minus the pom poms. You tugged at your own, afraid of showing too much skin despite the hot weather.
You wiped the sweat from your forehead and tightened your ponytail as all the girls clapped and began to reassume their positions for the 12th time. As you readied yourself for the last run through of your routine, you couldn’t help but spot Dean standing on the opposite end of the oval. Oh god, he was going to watch. You straightened your posture even more and looked away from the smug boy admiring from afar. The first few beats of the music kicked in from the speakers, and you followed the girls to your beginning position.
After a solid run-through of the routine (maybe better than normal because of your spectator), you were dismissed and ran over to the bleachers for your bag. You jogged over cautiously, afraid of your short skirt flying about in the breeze. You grabbed the duffel bag containing your clothes and threw it over your shoulder. Several of the girls waved goodbye as you made your way down the steps, and despite not even knowing their names, you waved back. As you peered over at Dean, standing with his arms folded across his chest, you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for any judgment on your dancing. As you grew closer to him, your eyes fell to the ground, preferring to look at your shoes than the intimidating green eyes staring at you. You stopped in front of him, now having no choice but to make eye contact. You blushed as he smirked and reached for your bag. You smiled and handed it to him, and he slung it over his broad shoulder with ease. “So. That was pretty good actually.” Dean remarks and leans over to lightly kiss the top of your head. “You say that like you’re surprised?” You teased back and began to walk to the edge of the field. Dean looked taken aback, and mock clutched his chest. “Sassy.” He murmured and fell into step beside you. You glanced over to the road and saw his Impala parallel parked next to the sidewalk. “I guess you have to be pretty flexible to dance huh?” Dean chuckled and looked you up and down, taking extra time on your exposed legs. You gasped and shoved him with your elbow, sending him stumbling. He laughed infectiously, and you couldn’t help but join in, shaking your head. A proud Dean regains his balance and begins walking beside you again, before slinging his arm around your shoulder carelessly. Your whole body goes tense, and you begin to wonder if you can forget how to walk. All you can smell is his cheap cologne, and for some reason, you couldn’t be more content. Dean sighs, looking over at the horizon. “Seriously though, you’re amazing. I don’t understand how a hunter can dance so well.” He remarks honestly. You glance up at him and see his sparkling green eyes fall upon your own. You get lost for a moment, like in one of those cheesy romance novels. Lost in his magnificent eyes, dreaming about being able to see them every day. “Thanks.” You whisper and look at his now unsmiling face. You stop dead in your tracks, and Dean copies, removing his arm from its previous state. Dean frowns lightly and takes your face in his calloused hands. This time you contemplate whether it’s possible to forget how to breathe. You stare into his eyes until they flutter close at the sensation of his lips on your own.
For anon…reader is a cousin of Sam and Dean’s…Enjoy!
Y/N: *walks in* I’m back with the groceries! *mutters* Hope you haven’t killed each other yet. Dean: *groans loudly* Sam: *laughing* Are you serious? Y/N: *walks into kitchen* What’s going on here? Dean: *grumpily* Your boyfriend is cheating or something. Y/N: What? Reid: *smirks* Sam: *chuckles* Dean lost to Spencer in poker…again. Y/N: *smirks, shakes head* You two realize he’s a genius right? Eidetic memory and everything. Dean: *deadpans* Reid: To be fair, I’m also from Vegas. Sam and Y/N: *laughing* Y/N: *thinking* At least they’re getting along.