Disclaimer - Sam, Dean, or anything Supernatural are not mine. Nor are the imagines used which I found online.

A/N - Hello everyone to my first story. A huge thanks for coming and checking it out! I would like to be forthright and tell you all that these imagines aren't mine. I simply googled supernatural imagines and found them, so please don't be offended, I am NOT trying to take credit for whoever came up with these.


Prompt: Imagine Dean giving you his jacket to wear because he noticed you shivering - from unknown


You stood over the grave and watched as the flames ate up the corpse. Not the most picturesque sight, but one that you'd grown accustomed, and rather numb towards seeing it.

It had been a routine hunt, or as routine as hunts could go. No one was hurt too badly besides a few bumps and bruises that you all would surely be feeling tomorrow morning.

A cold gust of wind surged through the cemetery forcing you to take a step forward. You wrap your arms around your midsection in an attempt to keep warm as the freezing air whipped through you. It didn't help that it had started drizzling halfway through digging the grave. Or the fact that you wore only a pair of worn out jeans and a t-shirt.

You bounce on your toes a little, trying to get your blood flowing. Yet another feeble attempt at warmth.

"Well, she's burning pretty good even if she did get a little damp," Sam observed, watching from the other side of the grave the three of you had dug up.

The fire created eerie shadows across his young face. You take a minute step closer to the edge, trying to get close to the flames without appearing as if you were cold.

After Sam and Dean had both warned you that it'd be a chilly night and that you needed to wear layers, and you blowing them off, you were positive that you'd die of embarrassment if they found out you were cold.

Your fingertips had long since gone numb and you alternated which hand held the salt shot gun and which you stuffed in your jean pocket.

Dean had gone to the impala right after Mrs. Havisham's bones had started burning and her spirit had disappeared.

What he was grabbing you didn't know, but you were dreading the long walk back to the impala.

Really it wasn't too, too long, if you could count on nothing else you could count on Dean getting a decent parking place, but the cold made it seem that much longer. Your toes were starting to tingle and you knew that soon they too would be numb.

"What was Dean grabbing?" you ask, forcing your teeth to not chatter.

Sam shrugged, "He didn't say, but he'll be back any minute now."

You sure hoped so. Otherwise screw pride and embarrassment you'd do anything to get warm instead of die of hypothermia.

Right on cue, you could hear the telltale sounds of leaves and twigs being crushed underfoot.

Dean appeared to the left of your field of vision. You didn't dare turn your head for fear that your frozen neck would crack and shatter at the movement.

In his hands was the journal that the boy's father had given them.

"What's that for?" Sam asked.

You're glad he did, you wanted to ask the same thing but knew you wouldn't be able to get a word out without your teeth chattering.

"I was looking through it last night and I found this incantation that's supposed to help spirits into a peaceful afterlife," Dean explained, he shrugged, "I thought it'd be worth a shot."

"How come dad never told us about it?" Sam asked, almost sounding accusatory.

Dean glanced over at you and then back at Sam, "I don't know dude. But we know it now."

He moved so that he stood at the foot of the grave. Flames dancing in his green eyes as he gazed down momentarily before starting the incantation.

Your eyes lingered on his face. The strong set of his jaw, the emerald green eyes, let's face it, you were head over heels for him.

You knew it would never work out with him though. He liked the type of girls he could be with one night and leave the next.

Dean wasn't interested in a lasting relationship, and you cherished his friendship too much to jeopardize it by telling him how you felt.

You listened to his strong voice as Latin words poured smoothly from his lips. Your eyes were drawn down to the dancing flames, the skeleton almost completely ash by now. Was Mrs. Havisham happier now? More at rest? In Heaven perhaps because of the incantation?

You may never know or find out for sure, but it was a pleasant thought. That you could, as the saying goes, kill two birds with one stone. No she no longer would kill men who ditched their brides on their wedding days, but now she might find some rest as well.

Dean finished the page of Latin quickly and shut the notebook in an almost reverent fashion. You'd noticed that about both boys ever since you'd joined them. They were never once rough with the book. You wondered briefly if you'd have been like that had your father left you anything.

The hole in your chest that still lingered after your family's passing threatened to open so you dismissed the thought with a shake of your head.

Another cold gust of wind tore through you, effectively wiping your mind clear of any thought that didn't pertain to cold and or freezing. You couldn't stop the shiver that racked through your body as Sam bent down to pick up your two shovels.

He started walking towards the impala and you started to follow him before a strong but gentle hand on your shoulder held you back.

"Y/n," Dean said softly, you turned around to face him, "Here," he handed you the notebook which you took obediently and shrugged out of his leather coat, also his father's.

He handed it to you wordlessly but you shook your head.

"That's okay, I'm fine," you told him, but the shivering had started by then and you couldn't stop.

His green eyes met yours.

"Please, just take the coat, we both know you're freezing."

With that he draped it around your shoulders, grabbed the notebook, and pried the shotgun from your frozen fingers.

You instinctively wrap the coat tighter around your shoulders and the two of you start walking together towards the impala.

No words were exchanged, and for that you were grateful. Your thoughts were swirling as the warmth given by the new layer slowly thawed out your frozen limbs.

Warmth flooded your cheeks that had nothing to do with the jacket as you thought harder and harder about it.

Sure, maybe it had just been an act of a friend, you wouldn't put something like this past Sam.

But Dean prided his jacket almost as much as his car. You'd never seen him give it to any of the girls he met at bars, even when he was drunk, or in an overly flirtatious mood.

He turned to look back at you and your heart near about stopped at the caring look in his eyes.

"Better?" he asked.

You nod vigorously, making him chuckle as he continued to stride confidently forward in the dark.

You follow a step behind him and grin stupidly in the dark.

He'd not only noticed that you were cold, but he was willing to go cold so that you didn't have to. But it was more than that, he wanted to go cold so that you could be warm.

Hope blossomed in your chest.

Perhaps you weren't the only one with hidden feelings.


A/N- I have a huge list of more imagines if you're insterested in reading more, or if you have an idea/prompt you'd like me to do please leave it in a review or send me a pm! Thank you for reading and if you'd like to see this continued please, please, please review!

Thanks again!

~ H.L.