Dean Winchester x Reader One Shots

He Should Have Told You ~ Part 1

Not a day goes by that you don't think of Dean Winchester. When you two met about twelve years ago, it was like love at first sight. He was this big macho hunter who saved you from being eaten, torn to pieces by a pack of werewolves. Unfortunetly, he wasn't fast enough, and wasn't able to save your parents. You had no idea of the reason for the attack. One moment you were asleep in your room and then the other you heard noises downstairs.

You remember slowly creeping down the stairs only to witness your Mother being slashed in the neck by the large claws of a shewolf. Blood splattered all over the walls and furniture as her lifeless body crumpled to the floor. You shrieked then covered your mouth. You hadn't meant to make any noise but you couldn't help yourself as you watched the horror unfold in front of you.

The group of three werewolves had turned their attention towards you, teeth bared, claws out. You noticed then that your Father lay on the couch, his own neck ripped open. You backed away as they approached you. The one you figured to be the leader was growing closer and closer to you by the second. In an attempt to draw them away, you threw one of your Mother's glass vases at his head. It shattered to pieces and they all hissed. You took the distraction as the perfect opportunity to run. And so you ran. You ran as fast as you could up the stairs and to your parent's room where you knew your Dad kept his pistol.

Slamming the door behind you, you locked it in place hurrying to your Dad's beside table drawer where the gun had been placed. You hoped and prayed that the gun was still there and to your relief, it was. You checked to make sure it was fully loaded. It was, extra bullets sitting in a box next to it. It was then that the werewolves busted through the door, wood flying in the air. You readied the gun, fully planning on shooting any of them that came withing feet of you.

The leader snarled. "Oh how cute. Little Red Riding Hood plays with guns now."

The others snickered, ready to pounce.

Pointing the gun at them, you gave them a warning. "Come any closer and I swear I will fire. I have a twitchy finger."

The werewolves glanced at eachother and kindof laughed. "One thing you should learn about our kind sweetheart, regular bullets do nothing to us, only silver can," the leader said, his mouth dripping with saliva.

"You mean this silver?" You heard someone say from the doorway. There stood a young man. He was about 6'1, dirty blonde hair, wearing a dark green jacket with brown boots. In a second he fired his gun, shooting each werewolf without even blinking.

Eyes wide, the werewolves lay dead on the floor. Their blood stained the pure white carpet. Your hands shook, fear overwhelming you. The man registered you then, slowly putting his own gun down on the floor, and raising his hands beside his head.

"Listen, I don't know how good you are with that weapon but for mine and your safety I suggest you put it down."

"Fuck you. I just watched my parents be murdered by some flea bitten mongrels and you expect me to trust you?"

He shrugged. "I can understand that but you did just notice that I shot all three of them, hence saving your life."

Dammit he was right. You knew he was right. If he was one of them he would have killed you by now. He certainly wouldn't have unarmed himself like he did if he was one of them either. Finally, you made the decision to lower your Father's pistol. Your breath heaved in your chest, hands still shaking. The man still kept his distance but his arms returned to his sides.

"My name is Dean Winchester. You must be (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)."

Puzzled, you raise your eyebrow at this guy. "How do you know my name?"