Dean x Reader

You could hear Dean screaming your name before you stepped foot into the bunker. His voice was loud, full of excitement, and you wondered what could have possibly brought this on. "Coming!" You called out, your arms full of grocery bags, struggling to open the heavy iron door.

Dean met you on the other side, taking the bags from you, almost jumping up and down in excitement. "Sam found us a case!"

Raising an eyebrow, you continued down the staircase, knowing that Dean would continue to tell you about this case he was so excited about. He needed no encouragement. "It's in England!"

That stopped you in your tracks. "England?"

He nodded, setting the bags down on the table before taking your shoulders and turning you to face him. "Y/N, you know that one baking show we've been watching?"

"The British Baking Show?"

"Yeah, that one!" He exclaimed. "Well there have been curious deaths surrounding it, and they've even considered shutting down the new season."

Sitting on the edge of the table, your mind worked over the facts. "But Dean, what about the British Men of Letters? Why can't they, or another hunter handle this one? That's a long way to go, and...,"

"Tickets are bought, and everything is settled," Sam announced, climbing the stairs, his bag already packed and placed on his shoulder. "Oh Y/N, perfect timing!"

"Wait," you stuttered. "It's all set up? But what about Dean's fear of flying. And...and...,"

"All taken care of," Sam answered smugly. "Dean's got Dramamine, and you've got a spot as one of the contestants."

You shook your head, not believing what you just heard. "I'm what?"

Dean patted your shoulder, picking up the duffle bags you hadn't noticed. "Y/N, you're a great baker! You'll do great while Sam, Cas and I canvas the forest surrounding the area, along with the castle."

13 hours later you were standing in London, turning in circles as you took everything in. Sam was trying to get the rental car while Dean tried to control his breathing. He had done great on the plane, cuddling next to you and sleeping most of the way, but the stress had taken a lot out of him.

"I'm driving," he insisted, sliding in the left side of the car, grumbling when he realized the steering wheel was on the other side. You slid in back, while Sam and Dean changed places. The car was much shorter than Baby, both Sam and Dean's heads almost touching the roof.

With Sam constantly reminding Dean which side of the road to drive on, Dean headed out of the crowded town, heading to Berkshire.

You watched out the window as picturesque scenery passed by your window. Green and so unlike Kansas, you couldn't believe that you were visiting England. But your visit had you extremely nervous.

Sure, you enjoyed baking, but you had never considered yourself good enough to be on a show such as the Great British Baking Show. Just the thought of being in that tent with Paul and Pru critiquing your bakes had your stomach in knots.

"Human travel is tedious," Cas muttered as he appeared in the seat next to you. "You have been traveling for hours."

"Some of us aren't born with wings," Dean muttered. "But I would like to do something besides flying."

Cas ignored Dean. "While you guys have been in air, I took the liberty of checking the area. Do we have any idea what we're up against?"

Sam pulled out his notebook, shaking his head. "No idea. Three crew members have been found dead, with only this symbol carved into their wrist. No other injuries."

"Looks demonic," Cas said. "What are our plans?"

"We were able to get Y/N a spot on the show. Saying we were feds. She'll be watching everyone in the tent, while we search the grounds. We only have this weekend to figure it out, otherwise, we'll have to wait another week."

You were going to be staying in the large manor house located behind the tent. Sam, Cas, and Dean would have a room in the local inn, only about five miles away. You had nervously gone through your notes, knowing you needed to have two recipes perfected and ready to go before tomorrow, along with the technical which you had no idea what it would be.

"Y/N, you okay?" Dean asked, coming around the car with your bag in his hand. "I know we just kind of threw you into this, but I know you'll have no problem."

"Dean, I'm not a baker!" You exclaimed. "I like dabbling in it, but these people are talented, and have time to practice."

He took your shoulders in his hands. "Relax and have fun. You're here because they think you're undercover. Just enjoy the chance to be on your favorite show, and let us get this Monster out of the way."

After a sleepless night, you made your way down the stairs, finding you weren't the only one up and ready early in the morning. A buffet was set out off to the side, the other contestants munching on food. Taking a plate from the sideboard, you were piling bacon and eggs onto your plate when Dean waved at you from outside the window.

Sighing, you took a piece of bacon off the plate before setting it down. Leaving the rest of the contestants behind, you stepped out onto the nicely manicured lawn. "Dean, it was breakfast," you complained, lifting your bacon to take a bite, but Dean took it from your hands.

"I know, and you can go back to it soon enough. But we know who the Demon is," he explained, his mouth full of your bacon.

"Good. Did you take care of it?"

"Yep," he answered proudly. "It was the Butler. Always the Butler," he chuckled. "The Demon hated the show, and wanted to cause trouble."

"So that's it?" You asked, a little disappointed. "We came. We were here one night, and now we're done. No competing, nothing."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, you are a contestant. And it is the morning of the show. Why don't you go ahead with it? For today at least."

After Dean pushed you back to the manor, you quickly shoved some eggs into your mouth before it was time to go. Nerves had your palms sweating, your stomach twisting as you walked down the path. The top of the white tents was in the distance, and you rubbed your hands together nervously.

"Exciting, isn't it?" One of the other contestants asked you. "I've been wanting to be on this show for so long, I can't believe it's happening!"

Before you could answer, you were pulled to the side by the producer. "Listen, I know that the problem has been solved. But we want you to follow through with today at least. Then, we'll come up with an excuse as to why you can't come back. Okay?"

You took your place behind one of those light teal covered kitchen stations, tying your apron around your waist. As you took a deep breath, you could see Sam, Dean, and Cas off to the side, peeking through one of the windows.

Paul and Pru gave the instructions, leaving the tent and your first three-hour task was started. Your nerves slipped away, and you began baking, humming to yourself.

You mixed and poured, getting your sponges into the oven. Your apron was a mess, but you were enjoying yourself more than you thought you would.

It wasn't until you had thirty minutes left that you began to worry. You had always thought people should plan better, but now that you were in their position, you knew how hard it was to keep everything on time. But you finished your dessert just as they sounded the end of the challenge, and you brushed your hands off, pleased with how it had turned out.

Paul and Pru both enjoyed it, but you still left the tent before the technical, knowing they would come up with an excuse as to why you couldn't move on. Dean came over, pulling you into his arms. "You did it!" He exclaimed. "My girl was a famous baker!"

"Not exactly famous," you insisted. "I just got a little lucky."

"But they seemed to like it," Sam answered, patting you on the shoulder. "And we got the Demon taken care of, so I think everything's good to go!"

"Let's go home," you mumbled against Dean's suit coat. "I enjoy baking in my old kitchen, for my three judges."

"Food still tastes like molecules," Cas argued, and you just rolled your eyes. But you were telling the truth. While you loved this show, you knew it wasn't exactly for you. Baking pies and fixing homestyle meals for you and your hunters was your type of baking.