Mistlefoe (Dean)

309 9 2
                                    

In the spirit of Christmas, I've got some hallmark worthy supernatural drama for you to start off my (hopefully) regular updating schedule.

A cold wind twirling leaves in a mini tornado. Sparkling lights hung around every street corner. And Dean flicking me incessantly in the shoulder.

I love Christmas.

"Dean, if you flick me one more time, I will feed you to a pack of werewolves!"

He had the nerve to look offended.

"Can we please get waffles?!"

I sighed.

"God, you're a three year old."

"What? Excuse me, waffles are the best!"

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

"What? Excuse me, waffles are the best!"

I sighed and turned around to go into the diner that had caused Dean to go ballistic when we passed it, slightly dragging our feet. Dean sauntered along beside me and I rolled my eyes. Ever since I had met Dean, we'd picked on each other in some unknown competition to see who could annoy the other person more. And whenever we go out to a bar, he does a horrible pick up line. Not to mention, he tries them out on me before he goes and picks up some busty blonde. Speaking of, one such woman comes to our table to take our orders. And probably Dean's number.

"What can I get y'all?" she said with a blinding smile.

Before Dean could say anything, I interrupted their 'connection'.

"One black coffee."

Dean glared at me

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Dean glared at me. I returned his look with an innocent smile then turned back to the waitress.

"Please."

She blinked twice and her smile faltered. Then Dean tapped her arm and it returned full force.

"I'll get three waffles, bacon, eggs, coffee and your number," He said with a wink.

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Supernatural preferences and imaginesWhere stories live. Discover now