Hey could I please request headcanons for how Dean would react to reader texting him "she's busy" as a joke, yk kind of like
Dean: Hey baby
Reader: She's busy
I really hope this makes sense and isn't so confusing 😭😭
Ooh I think I know what you mean. 😏
Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Word Count: 850
Imagine: Texting Dean when he's on a hunt.
Once again, Dean sighed while he waited on his brother.
They were stopped at a 7-Eleven gas station after a hunt, but Dean had long ago filled up Baby's tank. Sam was inside, grabbing a few snacks for the road tomorrow. Supposedly.
Dean fished out his phone from his pocket and texted him.
Hey, Driving Miss Daisy. You good in there?
A couple of minutes later, Sam responded.
Yeah, just getting a few things.
Dean rolled his eyes. Right.
For half an hour? What, you taking a shit or something?
Sam's response was testy, just as Dean predicted.
Dean, give me a minute. Jesus.
Dean sighed, with a roll of his eyes. He scrolled back into his texts and found your name. He was a couple of states over from Lebanon, but still within the same timezone. You should still be awake back at the bunker.
He decided he wanted to hear your voice, let you know that he and Sam were going to catch one more night of rest here at the motel before they made the long drive back home.
But...you didn't answer when he called.
Weird. You were typically a night owl, either watching something or plugging away at your laptop. He tried texting you instead.
Hey, baby. You up?
He eventually saw the three gray dots pop up. You were typing...
She's busy.
Dean frowned. What the hell?
Had you invited someone over? Like Jody or Donna?
But neither of them would've replied like that...so he texted back.
Stop messing around.
Dean tried calling you again, but it went directly to voicemail this time. In came another text from "you."
She'll call you back, dude.
Dean's jaw ticked with annoyance. And despite himself, unease began to creep in and churn his stomach.
What the fuck is this?
She's in the shower. I'll tell her to call you back, no worries.
All right. WHO is this?
Ooh, are you the boyfriend? Yikes lol.
A deep, slow breath made it through Dean's nose. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, reminded himself that he did, in fact, love you.
Then he responded.
Babe, if you don't call me in the next 30 seconds, there's gonna be hell to pay when I get home.
Dean checked his watch and actually counted. About ten seconds passed before his phone rang with an incoming call...from you. He answered.
"Promise?" came your teasing voice. When it ended on a giggle, Dean rolled his eyes and rested his head back on the seat. He blew out a frustrated breath.
"Oh, trust and believe. You're gonna fuckin' get it this time," he said, though his lips curved on a reluctant smirk. You full on laughed at him then.
"You make it too easy," you replied.
He knew this. It wasn't the first time you'd teased him, and he knew it wouldn't be the last.
Still, he couldn't help being a bit irritated this time.
"You know, how would you like it if I did that to you?" he asked. "Wouldn't be so fucking funny then, would it?"
"...Okay. You're right. I'm sorry, baby," came your more contrite voice. But he could still hear your smile. Could imagine the way you might soothe a hand along his arm, if you were here.
"How about I make it up to you?" you offered.
That worked a slow smirk onto his face. "Yeah? What did you have in mind?"
For the next few minutes, you purred into his ear about all the things you'd been thinking of while he was gone. Daydreaming about the talents of his hands, lips, and tongue.
In particular, you reminded him about a certain birthday wish that he still hadn't claimed from a couple weeks ago, when he and Sam got wind of this hunt.
Two weeks really was too damn long, in your opinion. (He agreed with you.)
Now with a half-straining bulge in his jeans, Dean licked his lips and tightened his hand on the leather wheel of the car.
"All right. Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart," he said, deceptively breezy. As if you'd just told him you planned to make tacos for dinner.
"When are you getting home?" you asked.
He heard the tone of your voice, like black silk. It sent a tendril of heat down his spine, raising the hairs on his forearms.
"Tonight," Dean said. Deeper, a note of gravel in his words. "I'll see you tonight."
"Good." Once again, he heard the smile in your voice. "I love you."
He sighed, and raised a hand to card through his hair.
"Love you too...even though you play too fucking much," he muttered the latter bit.
Your laughter once again reached his ears, reluctantly making him smile.
He hung up with you just before Sam finally opened the passenger seat door and climbed in with two hefty grocery bags. Did he do a whole damn shopping spree in there?
...Whatever. Dean shook his head and started the car.
"Change of plan," he said. "We're heading home."
"What? Thought we were gonna catch a few hours of sleep. It's a long drive, Dean," Sam said, earning his brother's gaze.
"Yeah, well, you'll live," Dean snarked. A more devious grin spread across his face. "I've got a date."
And she's about to get punished.
The Impala's tires screeched as Dean pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road.
AN: Ha! This one was fun. 😘 Thanks for the prompt!
✧ older!dean x younger!reader (early 20's). he's thinking of you. and he really shouldn't be. he texts you anyway...
✧word count: 550
✧use of y/n, fluff, age gap, saw this gif and felt inspired.
the sun had been brutal all day. the drive long. and some girl at a diner had laughed, and it reminded him of her. how she threw her head back. the way she played with her hair. the thoughts slipping into his mind before he could stop them.
he hadnt texted her in a while.
she hadn’t either.
it was probably for the best. she was too young, too smart to be doing anything with him.
and yet, his hands moved anyway. slipping into his pocket. opening his phone.
dean: wasn’t even looking for you. found you in someone else anyway.
he regrets it as soon as he hits send. shoving his phone back in his pocket. running a hand over his face. and just before he goes to get up, his phone buzzes.
y/n: funny. wasn’t even trying to haunt you today.
dean: do you try to do that often?
y/n: maybe. why? are you complaining?
dean: no.
y/n: is this ur way of trying to tell me you miss me?
he pauses then. not sure what to say back. and yet he’s smiling. why the fuck was he smiling.
dean: i dont know. maybe.
y/n: your so cryptic. maybe its an age thing.
dean: now your calling me old?
y/n: are you not…?
dean: depends on who you ask.
y/n: ur so dramatic.
dean: maybe. but you like it.
y/n: mhm sure. lets not forget who texted who first….
dean: you’ve got a point.
y/n: where are you?
he leans back in his seat. reading the message over again. her wanting to know where he is shoudn’t make him feel anything. it really shouldn’t. and yet. it so does.
dean: a diner.
he knows thats not what she meant. and he’s imagining how she’s definitely rolling her eyes right now. he has to stop doing that.
imagining her.
y/n: don’t be a smartass.
dean: upstate new york. why?
y/n: just curious. sounds boring.
he smiles. like he can hear her teasing sarcasm behind the words on his screen.
dean: it is. this diner doesn’t even have pie.
y/n: a tragedy. someone call the police.
its his turn to roll his eyes.
y/n: don’t roll your eyes at me.
dean: too late.
y/n: rude. you should be grateful im even texting you rn.
dean: now your being dramatic.
y/n: says the grown man complaining about pie. have you met yourself?
dean: i’ve got nothing on you sweetheart.
y/n: god forbid a girls interesting. entertaining. hot.
he huffs a laugh. out. loud. as he imagines the attitude she’s giving him.
y/n: if i was there it would be less boring. still wouldn’t have any pie though.
dean: yeah it would be.
y/n: ok. so what are you going to do about it?
dean: what do you mean?
y/n: i dont know. drive somewhere more….interesting.
he reads the word drive and he’s up. dropping a bill next to his half eaten burger. keys in his hand.
dean: define interesting.
y/n: you already know what i mean.
dean: do i?
y/n: come see me.
he already had the car in drive.
y/n: you do know that new york is about three states and six hours away right?
dean: i drive fast.
a/n: rewatching spn (for the 100th time) and i'm on season 9 which means that this was inspired by mark of cain dean. his scruff 🫦🫦🫦
