esoteric ↯ dean winchester x reader

lxxvi.

Dean drove all 4 of you about a mile away, getting out for a second. You followed quickly after, followed by Sam. Dean opened the trunk. You barely could pay attention to the dark street that had very little street lights, feeling the contrast of your heating body to the cool air outside. You felt so angry at him for being so stupid and a little bit of kissing another woman right in front of you.

"Wait. Are you serious?" You whisper-shouted, "You think it's a great idea to give yourself a fatal curse?"

"Well, targets off her back ain't it?" Dean said, cocking his gun.

"I'm just saying." You whined, turning him to your face, "You don't have to do this. Be the guinea pig."

"What?" Dean scrunched his face, trying to understand.

"Be the martyr. Try to carry the weight by yourself. Do this." You said frustrated, not helping the way that your palms grew in heat.

"I'm gonna be fine, okay?" He got a bit softer with you, "And as long as I'm good, she's good and that's the important thing. Besides. It proved our theory, didn't it? That this whole kiss of death thing is transmittable. I mean I'm not asking for the nobel here, but thank you."

"How long do you think we have?" Sam chimed in.

"I don't know. I mean it's not like this thing is exactly following a pattern." You shook your head.

"What was that?" Melissa finally had collected herself.

"We think it was something called a shapeshifter, but it can't be because Dean pumped the thing full of silver and it didn't even flinch." You explained slowly, but still panicking too much to really mind your wording.

"What kind of FBI agents are you?" Melissa's eyes were drawn to the arsenal in the trunk. Dean sighed and shut the trunk.

"The fake kind." Dean rolled his eyes, over it.

"We're hunters" You explained, "And all you need to know is that we save people like you from things like that."

"Even if it's not a shapeshifter, it's still shifting shapes. If we can find out what it is we can find out how to kill it." Sam said, leaning against the car with a gun and filling it with witch-killing bullets.

"Alright. What do you know about the white witch?" Dean asked.

"Not much. Her name is Sonja. She's kind of weird?" Melissa seemed unsure, ringing her sweaty palms again, "I don't know. She's only been my hairdresser for a couple of months."

"Do you know where she lives?" Sam asked.

"Not a clue." Melissa sighed. You could tell with every unknown answer Melissa was feeling more and more uneasy and guilty about herself. You wanted to started asking her questions she would know.

"Where did she give you the spell?" You said.

"In the basement of her salon." She perked up, you looked behind yourself at Sam and Dean who nodded.

That's where you three would go, still on the run from whatever it'll be that's after Dean. Only a few blocks away you'd pull up to what looked like a house turned salon, small and falling apart. A little sign in the front parking space that said:

"The art of dyeing." Dean read aloud, "Well. Can't say she didn't warn ya."

You hit his shoulder from the back, "Remind me to give you sensitivity training."

"Alright, just keep the doors locked and stay put until we get back." Sam instructed Melissa, pulling out a knife to give her, "Unless Sonja shows up. Then use this on her."