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

Diary Of A Hunter (Sister!Reader)

Warning: language, invasion of privacy, a little angst, mostly fluff, protective!Dean, reader writes Teen Wolf fan-fiction, learning to drive in Baby

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"Give it back! Give it back, Dean, or I swear I'll-" You shouted up at your big brother who held your notebook above his head and out of reach.

You jumped at it again, growling when you didn't even come close to snatching it back. Sam ignoring the both of you as he flipped through a manuscript, sitting on the couch in the motel room.

"You'll what, squirt?" Dean smirked, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly.

"I'll take Baby out for a joyride." You threatened, glaring up at him.

It was more of a threat than it sounded like since you didn't exactly know how to drive yet, but you were learning. It was hard to squeeze in practice time between hunts and Dean monopolised driving from town to town, so that was out of the question. Besides, you didn't think he'd ever let you drive his precious Impala had you asked, but Sam did.

"You and what licence?" He chuckled, thinking it was an empty threat.

"Sam's been teaching me," you said matter-of-factly with your hands on your hips, watching the colour drain from his face.

"What?! When?"

"Yesterday, when we went on that snack run and we got you your stupid apple pie. Cake is so much better, by the way." You licked your lips just thinking about it. Who chooses glazed fruit over thick, creamy frosting.

"You only think that 'cause you're a sugar freak."

"Sugar's good for you." You claimed with a grin, obviously just trying to irritate him.

"It's really not." Sam added, jumping into the conversation from his seat on the couch and glancing up from the musty manuscript in his hands.

He was studying up for whatever the creature was this time that you were hunting; you usually just waited for him to tell you what it was and how to kill it. It was easier than doing the research yourself and he actually enjoyed it, even going as far as to comment that he liked that musty smell.

"Whatever. Just give me back my notebook." You demanded, holding out your hand to Dean. You were actually surprised his arm hadn't gotten tired yet.

"On one condition," he compromised, "who is this Derek?"

Not only had your brother found your personal notebook, but he read it too. You were kind of thankful that he thought it was a diary of some sort and didn't realise it was actually Teen Wolf fan-fiction, at least not yet.

"None of your business, jerk." You snapped and he lowered his arm, his expression turning from playful to stern.

"You're too young for a boyfriend, Y/N." Dean stated simply as if he had final say, his voice dropping an octave.

"Says the master manipulator with a different woman hanging off his arm every night, I am more than old enough. Now, hand it over." You ordered one last time, wiggling your fingers with your palm still out in front of you.

"Well, if these are the things you're thinking of doing with him, I wanna talk to this guy first. Where does he live?" Dean insisted and your face flushed furiously. You didn't really write anything super explicit, but there was a lot of kissing and cuddling and random shit like that. It felt like an invasion of privacy, even if the stories weren't true. "And since when did you ever go jet-skiing? You've never even been to the ocean."

Dean was referring to a more intentionally ridiculous fic you had written for a challenge. You bit your cheek and averted your hard gaze to the shag carpeting beneath your feet. You knew your brother wouldn't give it back without an answer.