~(A/N: hello lovelies! Happy Thanksgiving! Tell me in the comment section your plans for the day!)~

Context: The fem!reader is Bobby Singer's daughter, who's seventeen, around the same age as Dean. It's Thanksgiving and Bobby decided to invite the Winchesters to dinner this year. Little does he know, his kid and Dean have a bit of a thing going on.

Word count: 1199
Warnings: None that I can think of. Light underage drinking I suppose?

"Not to be rude or anything, but I know for a fact that you did not make this turkey yourself," you say to your father as you look at the turkey he took out of the oven.

"What makes ya think that? Did ya not just see me take it out of the oven?" Bobby asked.

"Well for one thing, that oven was never on," you explained, continuing as you walked over to the trash bin. "And second, I can see the packaging not so well hidden in the garbage."

"Alright, you got me," he sighed. "I'm no chef like your mother was."

"It's cool dad. But I don't see why you're trying so hard," you admitted. "It's just the two of us."

"Actually, I may have invited a couple guests," He confessed.

"Guests? Who?"

"Remember my friend John Winchester?"

"The one who always leave his kids with us?"

"That's the one."

"Are they all coming?" You gulped.

"Yeah, they've been in town for a while so I thought why not?" Bobby narrowed his eyes in suspicion. It was like all the color had left your face and you were pale as a sheet. "Something wrong?"

"No, of course not," you shook your head. "I'm just surprised, is all."

~Time Skip~

The boys arrived a couple hours after along with their father. After cracking a couple beers, John and Bobby went straight to catching up, telling each other the usual hunter stories.

Sam went off to the living room to read, while you stayed in your room. You purposefully avoided greeting the Winchesters, well one in particular. Engrossed in the television show you were watching, you didn't hear the knock at your door.

Almost immediately after getting no response, Dean Winchester, strode into the room with a flashy smile and two beers in hand. "Am I interrupting something?" He asked.

"Dean...what the hell are you doing in my room?" You whispered hoarsely, hoping your dad couldn't hear from downstairs.

"I heard you were up here all alone and wanted to keep you company," he smirked, closing the door behind him. Before you could answer, he kicked off his shoes plopped down on the bed beside you. "So what are you watching?"

"Dean...if my dad finds out you're in here, he's going to kill you," you warned.

"Oh come on, he's too busy sharing old war stories with my dad," Dean waved off. He popped open a bottle and handed it to you. "Lighten up a bit."

You glanced back and forth between him and the bottle hesitantly. This wasn't your first beer, but just the thought of getting caught there was Dean was what troubled you.

Ever since the Winchesters came back to town a couple weeks ago, your friendship with Dean has blossomed into something more. You always playfully flirted with each other, but it was never serious. At least until that one night after school, when he took you out in his dad's impala.

"It's beautiful out here," you marveled at the sight of the stars above. Both you and Dean were lying on the hood of the impala, gazing into the night sky.

After school, Dean drove you out to the woods to look at the stars. "I know right," he smiled.

"So do you do this with every girl or what?" You smirked, turning to face him with your elbow on the hood.

"No, you're the first. Usually we're busy doing other things than looking stars," he admitted.

"You're so gross," you laughed and punched him in the arm.

He chuckled, "I mean it. I usually just drive out here on my own, play some Led Zeppelin and take a breather. All this hunting stuff, it's just a lot to deal with, you know? Sometimes I just need a break from it all."

"Yeah, I get the feeling," you nodded, resting on your back. "Well thanks for letting me share the experience with you, Dean. Means a lot."

"I actually wanted to tell you something. And I feel like here's the best place," Dean said.

Perplexed, you turned back to face him. "What is it?"

"(Y/N), I really like you. And before you say anything, I know I have a certain reputation for not being the committed type, but there just something about you that makes you different from every other chick I've met," he explained. You were left speechless.

"Fine," you snatched the beer from his hand and took a swig.

"That's my girl," he grinned before opening his bottle.

"You know...this whole sneaking around thing isn't going to work, right?" You set your drink aside. "Our dads are hunters. They're going to find out sooner or later about us."

"Okay," Dean shrugged.

"Okay?" You raised a brow.

"What's the problem?"

"Oh I dunno, maybe the fact that my dad would kick your ass if he found out."

"(Y/N), Bobby loves me like a son," Dean said.

"Yeah, but he knows your track record. And I don't think he wants me, his own daughter, to be involved in that long list. And he's going to find out sooner or later. We can't keep sneaking around forever."

"I've got this under control, (Y/N). Have a little faith."

"Dinner's ready!" Bobby called out from downstairs.

"I guess we'll find out then," Dean sent you a quick wink before hopping off your bed to head downstairs.

"Oh boy," you muttered under your breath as you followed.

~Time Skip~

"Really outdid yourself, Singer," John said as he finished off his first bite of turkey.

"Yeah this is great, Bobby," Dean added, flashing a smile. He took a seat beside you, wanting to witness your turmoil face to face.

"It's actually store-bought," you muttered, your eyes ingrained onto the plate below you.

"(Y/N)," your dad gave you a stern glare.

"What? It's true," you shrugged.

"Hey, give him some credit, (Y/N). It's not like you can cook any better," Dean said.

You finally glanced up from your plate to see a sneer smirk plastered on Dean's face. "Am I missing something?" John furrowed his eyebrows. The whole table had its attention turned to you too.

"Actually, there's something I've been wanting to announce since we got here," Dean said. He had that familiar mischievous look on his face, signalling he was planning something that wouldn't end well on your part.

You sent him a warning glare and whispered, "Don't you dare."

"They should know. Like you said, he's going to find out sooner or later," Dean told you.

"Find out what?" Bobby asked.

With a wide smile, Dean took hold of your hand. "Sir, (Y/N) and I are dating."

"You're what?" Bobby's face turned as red as a beet and his eyes were filled with fury.

Dean's smile began to fade and his grip on your hand loosened. "Y-yeah...we've been together for a while now..."

The room was filled with silence. Dean's face grew pale and you were less scared for yourself now and more for his livelihood. Finally, little thirteen year old Sammy broke the awkward silence by looking his brother in the eyes and saying, "Dude, run."