Supernatural One-shots

Dude Run - Teen!Dean Winchester

~(A/N: hello lovelies! Happy Thanksgiving! Tell me in the comment section your plans for the day!)~

Context: The fem!reader is Bobby Singer's daughter, who's seventeen, around the same age as Dean. It's Thanksgiving and Bobby decided to invite the Winchesters to dinner this year. Little does he know, his kid and Dean have a bit of a thing going on.

Word count: 1199
Warnings: None that I can think of. Light underage drinking I suppose?

"Not to be rude or anything, but I know for a fact that you did not make this turkey yourself," you say to your father as you look at the turkey he took out of the oven.

"What makes ya think that? Did ya not just see me take it out of the oven?" Bobby asked.

"Well for one thing, that oven was never on," you explained, continuing as you walked over to the trash bin. "And second, I can see the packaging not so well hidden in the garbage."

"Alright, you got me," he sighed. "I'm no chef like your mother was."

"It's cool dad. But I don't see why you're trying so hard," you admitted. "It's just the two of us."

"Actually, I may have invited a couple guests," He confessed.

"Guests? Who?"

"Remember my friend John Winchester?"

"The one who always leave his kids with us?"

"That's the one."

"Are they all coming?" You gulped.

"Yeah, they've been in town for a while so I thought why not?" Bobby narrowed his eyes in suspicion. It was like all the color had left your face and you were pale as a sheet. "Something wrong?"

"No, of course not," you shook your head. "I'm just surprised, is all."

~Time Skip~

The boys arrived a couple hours after along with their father. After cracking a couple beers, John and Bobby went straight to catching up, telling each other the usual hunter stories.

Sam went off to the living room to read, while you stayed in your room. You purposefully avoided greeting the Winchesters, well one in particular. Engrossed in the television show you were watching, you didn't hear the knock at your door.

Almost immediately after getting no response, Dean Winchester, strode into the room with a flashy smile and two beers in hand. "Am I interrupting something?" He asked.

"Dean...what the hell are you doing in my room?" You whispered hoarsely, hoping your dad couldn't hear from downstairs.

"I heard you were up here all alone and wanted to keep you company," he smirked, closing the door behind him. Before you could answer, he kicked off his shoes plopped down on the bed beside you. "So what are you watching?"

"Dean...if my dad finds out you're in here, he's going to kill you," you warned.

"Oh come on, he's too busy sharing old war stories with my dad," Dean waved off. He popped open a bottle and handed it to you. "Lighten up a bit."