I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader]

Monster

I tapped my foot irritably against the floor of the Impala, my hands gripping the wheel tightly. "Should've just let me go with him..." I grumbled to no one in particular as my eyes firmly planted themselves on the blood bank wall, glaring angrily at the red brick building.

I sighed and leaned back in my seat, waiting for Dean to get back with the dead man's blood. I scoffed. Dead man's blood. It sounded so stupid but fit perfectly with the theme of the supernatural world. I leaned forward again and glared out the side window.

This could have gone so much faster if he had just let me go with him. Hell, he could have brought Sam along if he didn't trust me to go with him. I pouted and placed my jaw in my hand, with a scowl. I knew it wasn't that he didn't trust me. He didn't trust me alone with John, now that John was suspicious of me.

I tapped my fingers against my jaw, deep in thought. Had John heard what the vamps said about me? That I wasn't human? God, I hoped not, that would have meant certain death for me. But a piece of me couldn't forget about the suspicious glares he had been sending me, and the conversations he had been avoiding.

Part of me wished it was his ego getting in the way. This newbie hunter had stayed in a vampire nest to potentially save him. What egotistical prick wouldn't that bother? But I knew it had to be something else, no matter how much I wished it was as simple as that.

I fidgeted in my seat. How long did it take to steal some blood? I checked my watch and glared furiously at the time. I should have been back by now. I cast nervous glances between my watch and the front doors of the blood bank.

Finally, I rolled my eyes and gripped the door handle, pushing the door open and stepping onto the sidewalk. I shrugged my jacket onto my shoulders and marched down the sidewalk towards the front doors.

Before I could even take three steps, the doors were thrown open and Dean stormed out, clutching several shopping bags full of what I assumed was blood. Dean paused momentarily in surprise and then quickly scowled. "What are you doing out of the car?" he questioned as he pushed past me and towards the trunk of the car.

I scoffed and placed my hands defiantly on my hips. "I was about to go looking for you," I snapped. "I was getting worried."

Dean paused and looked over the top of the trunk at me before going back to organizing the bags of blood. "You don't need to worry about me, sweetheart," he grumbled. "I can handle myself," he said with a smirk, slamming the trunk door shut.

Dean held out an expectant hand and watched me with one raised eyebrow. I glared and crossed my arms indignantly over my chest. "What, you trust me to drive here, but not back to the motel?"

Dean chuckled. "You have a tendency to obey the speed limits," he countered. "We don't exactly have time for that." I pursed my lips and held his gaze for a few seconds before fishing the keys out of my pocket and tossing them to him. He caught them with ease.

I moved to the passenger side and slid into the seat with ease. Dean turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life, pulling out of the parking space with a soft purr. I had to admit, the Impala sounded much better than my rust bucket of a truck.

The drive back to the motel was silent, aside from the roaring of the engine as we sped down busy streets, occasionally weaving between traffic. At one point, Dean had the audacity to blast through a red light an easy twenty miles over the speed limit. It made my skin prickle with an odd combination of worry and thrill.

Dean pulled the car to a sudden halt as the Impala turned into the motel parking lot. Not even bothering to make sure he parked correctly, he slid out of his seat and immediately made his way to the trunk. I followed suit and gripped a couple blood-filled bags in my hands, following him to the room he and Sam shared.