Supernatural One Shots And Imagines

Dean || Training Day

Sequel to Dean || Hunt Like A Winchester
...

I look at my blade.

Today is the day. It's my first day of training with Dean to become a real hunter. I can't screw this up!

I hear a knock on my door. When I look up I see Dean standing in the doorway wearing blue jeans and a blue and white flannel shirt.

I'm still in my pj's. I cross my arms over my chest since I never sleep in a bra, "Dean! Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

"You're door was open already, and I did knock."

I run over to my closet, "I thought training started at nine? It's only eight!"

"Well, I wanted to start the day early. Get dressed and meet me in the Impala. Don't worry about your hair and make up or crap like that."

"But..."

"You look fine, now shut your pie hole and move."

After he leaves I close the door and return to my closet. I slide over some hangers. I never have that much to choose from considering we're hunters. We don't exactly get a shopping day like ever other person.

I finally settle with a black tank top and blue jean shorts. I grab a flannel to go over the tank top.

After I slide on my shoes, I run down the hallway and up the stairs.

I sit down in the Impala, watching Dean's eyes follow my figure, "We're training, not going to a bar. Did you get those shorts fifty percent off?"

Dean only does this to protect me. Apparently I'm his and his alone. Which is true. I love him, and he loves me. Everything he does or says... it's because he loves me.

I wink, "I chose them for you."

Dean doesn't seem to want to continue the argument on the topic at hand. He rolls his eyes, "Are you ready? Do you have the blade?"

"Yes and yes."

"Then why are we still here?"

♡open field♡

"Alright Kiddo, I've set up some bottles on that fence. I want you to shoot em' off. Got that?

"Yeah!"

Surely I can hit a beer bottle with a pistol...

...An hour of shooting...

"You missed every damn one!" Dean laughs.

"Shut your mouth! The pistol isn't calibrated, got that?!"

"It's my pistol. It's always right."

I walk over and set them back on the hole-filled fence, "Then you do it."

"Move."

...

"You hit every one?!"

Dean blows the smoke from the end of the pistol, "Maybe it's the operater."

"Funny Dean. Now what am I gonna shoot?!"

"What about some simple squirrel hunting?"

I plop down against the fence, resting my head in my hands, "I can't hit a bottle, let alone a moving target."

"Come here," He sits down and spreads his legs open, patting the spot between them. I move over and sit against his chest, his legs tightening around my waist. Dean puts his chin on my shoulder and wraps his arms around my stomach, "I think... you just need a little practice."

Dean kisses my neck gently, nipping at the skin ever so slightly. I run my fingers through his soft, dirty blonde hair, "Maybe I just can't hunt."

"That's no way to look at it."

He cocks the gun and places it in my hands. Dean wraps his hands around mine, which coil around the pistol.

"Now just aim, slowly and carefully..."

We aim at the bottle, "Now, squeeze the trigger when you're ready. One, two-"

Bang!

I sit the gun down and turn around to Dean, "I did it! I shot the bottle!"

"Yeah, kiddo, yeah you did."

I hug his neck and he pulls me close, "I knew you could."

I kissed him, "Can we go on a real hunt tomorrow?"

Dean seems hesitant, "You need more training first. I-I don't want you hurt."

"But I'll be with you! We'll be fine!"

Dean stands up and walks to the Impala, "I'll tell you what. If you can find us a case, we'll go."

"You got it Dean-O!"

(Back at the Men of Letters bunker-11 hours gone)

"Why can't someone die already?!"

"Easy, Y/N. If you can't find a case we'll look again tomorrow. You've been on that laptop for eleven hours straight."

Dean slides a plate towards me, "Eat."

There's half of a burger on the plate, "I don't want it. I want a case."

"Would you just eat the damn thing?"

"You eat it."

Dean throws his hands up, "Whatever! I'll throw the crap out!"

He throws it into a trash bin and walks out of the room, "I'm going to bed."

I sigh, closing the laptop, "Dammit! I just wanted to hunt on a real hunt with Dean! Now it's all gone to hell!"

I slowly walk down the hallway, rubbing my tired eyes. "Dean?" I ask, opening the door to his room.

His headphones are on, but he's sleeping peacefully against a soft pillow. I sit on the bed, listening to see if I could hear what song is on.

Carry On My Wayward Son

I slowly pull off the headphones. Dean's eyes flash open, and suddenly, all I can see is the barrel of a gun.

I let out a cry, "Dean, don't shoot!"

He shoves the gun under the pillow, grabbing me and pulling me into his lap, "Dammit, Y/N! I could've killed you!"

A tear rolls down my face, "B-but you didn't."

He softens his voice, knowing yelling at me only made me cry, "Don't cry, Y/N."

Dean wipes my eyes, "Get some sleep. Your eyes are bloodshot from being on that laptop for so long."

I push his face back, laughing, "You're such a mom."

"If I am anything, it is most definitely not a mom."

I stand up and start mocking him in a squeaky voice, "Eat the burger, get off the laptop, go to sleep, quit trying to get yourself killed, quit giving me a boner!"

He looks down, his eyes widening, "That's not true and you know it."

"Which part?"

"Funny. Now lay your ass down and go to bed."

"No."

"No?"

I laugh as Dean grabs my waist and pulls me beside him onto the bed. He pulls the blankets over us and kisses me passionately, yet softly, "Goodnight babe."

"Goodnight Dean."