SPN One Shots... (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Designated Driver

Warnings: fluff, intoxication, language, a little angst maybe

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It was the quickest salt and burn case you had had in a while, actually the first since your injury had healed, which you didn't think was that big a deal. Dean, on the other hand, wasn't thrilled with you hunting so soon again and only agreed to let you go when he learnt that Charlie was coming along. He would've rather gone with you himself but you had made a fuss about not being treated like a child anymore and agreed to call if things went south. The case was in your backyard, only a couple hours away from the bunker and was done without even making contact with the ghost. Afterwards, you and Charlie found yourselves at a bar not far from the bunker and were a few drinks in.

"So, what's up with you and Dean?" Charlie asked when she thought you were finally buzzed enough to open up. "You two seemed annoyed with each other when I picked you up."

"Oh, it's nothing," you said waving her off the subject but she just raised an eyebrow, so you continued. "Just sometimes he treats me like I'm gonna break. Like I didn't take down that hellhound last month that had him and Sam cornered."

"Maybe he just cares about you and doesn't want to see you get hurt again," she shrugged, taking another sip of her beer.

"But that's the point, I don't wanna see him or Sam get hurt either, so if I have the chance to save them I'm gonna take it. He doesn't understand that though." You said downing the rest of your drink and getting the bartender's attention to order another one.

"Yeah, Sam said you guys had quite the fallout after that one," Charlie smirked knowing full well that the wrath of Dean was not something you wanted directed at you. You glared at her until your drink came and she changed the subject slightly. "By the way, weren't you supposed to call him."

"Shit," realizing you had completely forgotten to call after your hunt, you pulled out your cell and dialled Dean. Too drunk to care if it was just another way of him keeping tabs on you by having you check in every night.

"Y/N, is everything okay? You two on your way back?" Dean asked in succession. You thought he would've been angry but you only heard worry in his voice.

"S'fine, De, everything's okey-dokey," you slurred slightly more intoxicated than you had thought.

"A-Are you drunk?" Dean chuckled. "Where are you, sweetheart?" Charlie smirked, clearly able to hear Dean from where she was sitting beside you.

"Benny's," you mumbled, taking a sip of your drink. Benny's was the bar on the edge of town that the boys frequented, Dean never did tell you how he met the owner but you knew they were good friends.

"Alright, stay there, little girl. I'll get Sammy and we'll come pick up you two." Dean said hanging up the phone before you could chew him out over calling you little girl again.

You finished the rest of your drink, turning to the bar door when you heard it creak open. Most of the patrons had gone home for the night as it was late, so you knew it had to be Sam and Dean. You smiled when you locked eyes with Dean as he crossed the bar over to you and Charlie with Sam in tow.

"Hi," you said, grabbing Dean's arm as you tried to stand up without falling over. Obviously the last drink was a mistake.

"Easy there, sweetheart." Dean said, chuckling and catching you before you hit the ground. "You didn't survive a salt and burn just to get taken out by a stool."

"Stupid stool," you mumbled, staring up at Dean.

He adjusted his arm around your waist to keep you from falling again. He looked amused as you sleepily clung to him, all the worry in his tone from earlier washed out of his bright green eyes.

"Hey Charlie," Sam greeted. "Want to drive back to the bunker with me, before these two start bickering again?" He gave you a teasing look as you scrunched up your face.

"Sounds good, Moose," Charlie said, patting his shoulder. "Here you drive," she handed him her car keys and they headed out of the bar together.

"All set, little girl?" Dean returned his attention to you not noticing how your brow furrowed at the nickname.

"Don't call me that." You said, pursing your lips together and pushing away from him. You exited the bar and stumbled down the steps before Dean was there catching you again.

"Y/N, what the hell?" Dean snapped, pulling you to stand up straight against him. He held you tighter this time so you couldn't pull away again.

"I don't like it when you call me that," you said, glaring at him, "I'm not a little girl." You tried to shake him off but he didn't budge which just made you even more annoyed. "Lemme go," you huffed.

"S'not a great idea, little girl," he said pulling you along towards the impala, "wouldn't want you to fall flat on your face, now would we?"

"Jerk," you said through gritted teeth, hating how the nickname made you feel like he thought you were a child he had to take care of. You pushed off of him and slid across to the passenger seat from his side of the impala, planning on ignoring him the rest of the way home.

"Little girl." He grumbled under his breath, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot.

Dean glanced over a couple of times watching you rest your chin on your hand as you stared out the window. Your eyelids felt heavy and you kept catching yourself nodding off to sleep. You curled up against the door, kicking off your boots and stretching across the bench seat, feet in Dean's lap. He glanced over at you again, catching the soft smile you had tugging at your lips. He smirked to himself, patting your feet with his free hand and turning up the heat when he felt a shiver run through you. You relaxed and sunk further into the seat, stretching out a bit more so your legs were on Dean's lap now, though he didn't seem to mind. He rested his free hand on your knee, squeezing slightly when you shivered again.

"You cold, sweetheart?" Dean asked, knowing you weren't completely asleep yet.

"Just a little," you said, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. "I'm fine."

"Here," Dean said, shrugging off his jacket at a red light and throwing it over your shoulders.

"Thanks," you said, snuggling into the warmth and humming when you noticed how it smelt like Dean.

"Anytime, little girl." He said, affectionately patting your knee again and focusing on the road as rain lightly spattered the windshield.

"Wake me when we get home," you said, too tired to argue, so instead you added, "...little boy."