Dean Winchester x Male Reader

Chapter 5

Important: when would you guys like to join the storyline of the show? I'll still add other hunting jobs and extra plot

I WROTE THE CHAPTER AND HAD TO REWRITE IT BECAUSE IT GOT DELETED SOMEONE HIT ME WITH A CAR

(Y/n) turned and bolted down the aisle behind him as the possessed man scrambled up after him on all fours with bones snapping in odd directions. Packages of snacks were slung behind him in an effort to slow the pace of the creature barreling toward him.

"Get down! Hide!"

The cashier looked up from his phone, confused eyes blowing wide at the sight of a black-eyed,  dirty man in decrepit clothes baring broken teeth at him. A thud was briefly heard when he dropped to the floor before the cash register is ripped off the counter and thrown toward (y/n)'s head.

He ducks and it hits the aisle divider and bursts open with a dozen ka-chings! and a crash. Second was a hammer that narrowly missed him as he hit the floor, it bounced off the tile leaving a crack that would have shattered a skull. From the ground, the red and black of a plastic gas canister slid into view.

Pushing up from the floor and half rolling into the protective cover of a rack before standing, (y/n) runs around an alternate route to the roadwork aisle. Swiftly scanning the shelves, he spots what he needed to buy him time.

The demon moves at a blurred speed and reaches (y/n) as he tears open a bag of road salt with his teeth. The menace was being reckless and kicked his enemies legs out from the side.

With quick thinking, (y/n) flings the torn salt bag into the air instead of bracing for impact. His shins hurt in a pounding and aching way. A way that was thankfully only a bruise and not a broken bone. The possessed man hissed as the wave of rock salt hit him in the face and body. (Y/n) was lucky, but he had no time to reflect as he saw white and his head crashed against the grubby linoleum.

He couldn't show his stomach to the hell-spawn, because that could mean life or death, and he pushed himself up immediately, catching his breath and spying the shiny box can between the gnarled fingers of his opponent.

An unpleasant sound to the ears made the two humans in the shop cringe as the item was crushed and lighter fluid spurted on the aisles and the both (y/n) and the demon.

"Excorsizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus-"

The man raked at his head and shrieked, his black eyes clenched shut. He opened his left eye and hurled a can of oil towards (y/n)'s head.

"omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii!"

It clenched it's teeth and made an effort to glare at the hunter. It was prepared this time.

It spoke for the first time. It had a voice glass on a gravel driveway. This man had been possessed for a while, there was no hope for him.

"Didn't your mommy teach you to play nice?"

(Y/n) tensed but knew it was only trying to evoke a reaction. His mouth opened to finish the excorsism. Out of his peripheral vision, he sees the creature reach for the lighters on the rack he seemed to hover by.

"Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica!"

He almost screamed the last choice words in an effort to make it more powerful. The man, or corpse puppet, in front of him began to convulse and make sickly sounds as the ashen smoke erupted from its mouth. The vessel's back bent backwards with protests from the spine and the demon shot out and dispersed.

(Y/n) realized he was holding his breath and exhaled, his hands on his knees barely holding his weight up. He stood there for a moment to appreciate the throbbing in his skull and the shock of standing on his damaged legs.

Forcing himself up again, he walked lazily to gather all the things he had placed on the floor earlier and dumped it on the counter were the cash register used to stand. The underpaid employee peeked over the edge to see the outcome of the match and was speechless at the destruction of the store.

Reaching behind the counter for a bag, (y/n) just dropped a twenty on the I. Front of the boy before leaving.

When the bells of the door chime as he exits, the pain in his body and realization that he has to walk back to the motel dawns on the man and he starts to sulk before setting off.

***
Dean had woken up an hour ago and Sam was still on the computer with no acknowledgement of the amount of time that had passed. Rolling over the double twin bed, a stifled yawn blurs the image of the bedside alarm clock so it comes as a shock when the figures '1:37 pm' become clear.

"Hey Sam, Where's  the witch?"

Sam gets up from the computer and stretches.

"He left earlier for snacks or something at eleven."

Dean nods before glancing worriedly at the clock and turning back to his brother.

"He's been gone for almost three hours then"

There's a spark of realization in Sam's eyes and Dean can nearly see the adrenaline pump through him and the words he would speak in a moment, he could probably guess. But Dean dampens his own worry with thoughts of dismissal shot at the unwanted emotion.

Stepping forward, his right hand moves in front of his brothers chest but doesn't touch him. The gesture only does a little to calm Sam and interrupt his thoughts.

"Hey, the twink probably just realized this hunter business was too much and ditched us"

Sam was going to mention that he left his trunk, which was obviously valuable, but was stopped short by three pounds on the door.

Dean makes a dramatic face and opens the door, moving behind it as it swung and tilting his head to look outside. A greyish plastic bag with a 'Thank You!' And a smiley face printed on it, was chucked into the room. It slid across the wooden floor and rested a few feet from Sam, the unhealthy contents visible.

Both boys look up from the bag and meet the gaze of a disheveled and exhausted (y/n). If looks could do metaphorical deeds, this one wouldn't be one to tuck you into bed with a kiss.

Not a word is spoken as the third boy drags himself into the room and collapses on the bed. The older Winchester is the first to speak, with his face contorted from confusion.

"You smell like diesel"

A mumbled 'no shit' is heard from the sheets. It was a long moment before he sat up and began to shed his flammable clothing.

"I just had a little run in with the demon we were here to see. The jobs done"

(Y/n) silences their questions by throwing a pillow at them both.

"I'm not a story-teller, if you want a recap go ask the Gas n'Go cashier"

Ignoring any remarks Dean is undoubtedly going to make, the tired man pulls himself into the correct position on the bed and announcing his claim of it for the night.

"better appreciate those snacks, I went through hell to get them", (y/n) mumbles, chuckling to himself over the pillow.

Drifting off, he leaves the boys to argue over who takes the other bed.

I FINALLY GOT THIS DONE IM SORRRY