Warnings: magic, mentions of entrapment, genie!reader, possessive Dean/protective Dean
A/N: Lyrics in italics by Christina Aguilera’s “Genie in a bottle”
Jeannie in a bottle masterlist
<< Part 2
Dean feels his pants become tighter as he watches you dance the kinks out of your body. You wiggle your tush and sing along to a song on the radio.
I feel like I've been locked up tight
For a century of lonely nights
Waiting for someone to release me
You're lickin' your lips
And blowing kisses my way
But that don't mean I'm gonna give it away
Baby, baby, baby (baby, baby, baby)
“Fuck don’t do this to me, Y/N,” he grumbles. “Please don’t tempt me to fulfill your wishes.”
Dean closes his eyes and inhales sharply. He can’t have naughty fantasies about you. Not after he got to know that you were trapped in the bottle for ten years.
“Oh yeah,” you giggle as the song continues. “I’m a better genie, blondie.“
‘I'm a genie in a bottle, You gotta rub me the right way, If you wanna be with me, I can make your wish come true The radio blares.
“Having fun?” Dean clears his throat after the song ended. He nervously tugs at his plaid, unsure how to talk to you. “I was thinking about having a snack. Do you want to join me?”
“Uh-sure,” you give him a quick smile. “Did your brother already hear from your friends?”
“Temporary allies, not friends,” Dean corrects. “Crowley still didn’t answer, but Rowena will be here in a few hours. She’s somewhere busy…” The hunter huffs. “I don’t know what she’s up to at the moment. But the witch promised to try to help us.”
“A witch, and a king of hell. You’ve got interesting allies, Dean,” you smirk. “Are you hiding a unicorn in your dungeon too?”
“Don’t laugh, but I met a unicorn twice. I mean, one of them was an imaginary friend, and kinda dead. And he was half-unicorn, half-man,” he clears his throat.
“A MANICORN!” You exclaim loudly, making Dean chuckle.
“Exactly,” he nods in agreement. “Anyways, the other one, well…uh…a guy used a manifestation of children's fear to kill a man. Poor guy got impaled by the horn of a unicorn.”
“HOLY CANNALONI, Dean! I was joking.” You gape at the hunter. “You saw a unicorn. A real one?”
“I didn’t see it perse, sweetheart. Only the result of the attack,” Dean chuckles when you sigh deeply. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“No…It’s still cool, Dean. What else did you see? Are mermaids real? Maybe Gargoyles too.”
“I never saw mermaids or Gargoyles, Y/N. But this doesn’t mean that they do not exist.”
“Aw, look at this pretty little genie,” the red-haired witch coos. She cups your cheek and chuckles. “I can feel her powers float through her whole being.”
“She’s not a genie, Rowena. We got the sonofabitch trapping her in the genie bottle. He’s restrained to a chair in the dungeon,” Dean grunts. “Stop flirting with her and tell us if you can help us.”
“I need to talk to the man trapping her first. You said something about a spell, right? If he used magic, it wasn’t his power. I would sense it. The creature you’re holding hostage in your dungeon inherits no power.”
“We believe he made a deal,” Sam interjects. “Maybe he visited a crossroad ten years ago.”
“Well, in that case, he’ll be dog food in no time,” Dean grunts. “I hope he made a deal and ends up in hell for trapping Y/N in that bottle.”
“I will talk to him, Samuel. If he made a deal, we would need Fergus to find out which demon sealed the deal with your prisoner,” Rowena clicks her tongue. “A good day to free a genie, isn’t it?”
You hopefully look at Rowena. She flashes you a stunning smile and pasts your cheek. You’re enchanted by her personality and attitude. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Rowena to you, my dear,” she coos. “How did you find this wonderful creature?” Rowena glances at Dean. “Can I keep her?”
“The fuck no!” The hunter grunts. “Y/N is not some artifact you can just keep. She’s a human being trapped inside a genie bottle.”
“What if she can’t help me? What if I’m doomed to stay a genie for eternity?” You glance at Dean. “You were thinking the same thing. Didn’t you?”
“Sammy is on it, Y/N. Rowena will…you know. Do her thing. She’s a powerful witch,” He wrinkles his nose.
“You don’t like her.”
“I don’t like witches,” he admits. “Rowena, though. She was helpful in the past. More than once.”
“Hello, boys.”
You squeak as a man appears behind you in the middle of your conversation with Dean. He chuckles and holds out his hand. Whoever the man is, he smells like sulfur and sin.
“Let me guess.” You whip your head toward Dean who stares at the man standing next to you. “He’s the king of hell.”
“Crowley to you, my dear. My, what a sweet thing you found yourself, Squirrel. Or was it Moose?”
“Squirrel?” You furrow your brows. “Why does he call you that?”
“Don’t ask, Y/N. It’s a demon thing...” Sam sighs deeply.
“What can I do for you today?” Crowley steps toward you to grab your hand. He hums and tries to find out how powerful you are. “A genie, I see. It’s been ages since I saw one.”
“Crowley, can you help us or not?” Dean impatienly asks. “We got no time for chit-chat.”
Before Crowley can answer, Rowena walks back inside the library.
“Boys,” Rowena calls for the Winchesters. “I got good news and bad news.”
“Good news first,” you say. “Please. I need some good news.”
“The man trapping you doesn’t have any powers. He made a deal almost ten years ago,” Rowena steps toward you and the king of hell, sparing him as much as a glance. “Fergus.”
“Mother.” He replies dryly.
You watch the short exchange with wide eyes. No one took their time to tell you they are related.
“Now the bad news.” You steel yourself. If you must spend the rest of your life in the genie bottle, you will try to stay strong. At least Dean is your master and won’t abuse the power he holds over you.
“We need to find the demon first. The man in the dungeon refuses to tell me their name,” Rowena explains. “He’s a piece of work.”
“If it was one of my demons, I’ll find out who made the deal,” Crowley glances one last time at you. “Until we meet again…”
He vanishes as fast as he appeared.
You can only hope Crowley finds the demon before the hellhounds get the man trapping you...
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a/n: slightly altered the prompt to make it work better!
requested by anonymous
“Woah, where’d you find that?” Carlos and friends stared at the shiny lamp that Ben had suddenly acquired. Ben pointed over to the bush that he had noticed this lamp hidden behind. “You know, I heard that if you rub the lamp, a genie will appear.”
“Yeah, right!” Jay shoved Carlos to the side and laughed. “Try it.”
“Okay...” Ben carefully brushed his hand across the metal and watched as smoke began to blow out of it, you then appeared before the kids of Auradon with an unforgettable entrance.
“Hello! I’m y/n, you’re loyal servant. As a reward for finding me, you...uh, name?” You snapped while looking at the royal that had freed you.
“Ben.” He told you, still a bit in disbelief over the whole thing, he thought it had just been a myth. Some old tall tale that Aladdin told at parties.
“Ben! Ben, you get three wishes, no more. Only setbacks are you can’t wish for love, life, or death. Kapeesh?” You took on a human form and landed on the ground as all the kids stared at you. There wasn’t much magic here, either, you were a rare sight...
—————
Two selfless wishes later, Ben had really made a connection with you. You weren’t used to someone caring more about others than themself, it was admirable.
“So, what happens when I make my last wish?” Ben asked, already knowing the verdict. He just needed to hear it once more.
“Well, I return back to the lamp and wait for someone else to find me. It’s my duty as a genie, servitude in my imprisonment.” You explained in a disappointed tone. You didn’t want to leave Auradon, it was a beautiful place.
“I’m ready to make my third wish...” Ben paused and you accepted your future. You got ready to fufill his request, but you weren’t expecting what he said: “I wish that you were free.” You were suddenly unshackled to your lamp and stunned to realize that after all these years, your life was your own again. “I love you, y/n. I don’t want you to leave.” Ben approached you slowly and took your face softly in his hands.
prompt: Genie!reader + 15. “Please put your penis away.”
⟶ Halloween prompts masterlist
If anyone would ask? Then no, your life hasn’t been all that great since you’d been banished from the Spirit World and into a stupid perfume bottle, roughly a millennium ago. Granted, no one ever asked that question. They asked plenty of other questions, though. They asked for money, true love, to go back in time, more money, to bring back a dead loved one, and most of all: money. You may still be a supernatural entity with cosmic powers, there were limits to what you could do. Well, legal limits only. Apparently, just because you could, doesn’t mean you should. Messing with the balance between life and death, choice and destiny, was exactly what got you into this situation.
You were young, naive, hell-bent on helping those powerless humans. You couldn’t just stand there, watching them cry and go mad in despair when there was so much you could do for them. It was too late when you learned why they were not granted the gifts of your kind. You’re still paying for their mistakes.
Lucky for you, people these days didn’t fancy the looks of your physical prison. You’ve travelled all over the world, from one flea market to the other. Sometimes, you get picked up by a collector or someone who likes old things. They have a name for it now: ‘Vintage’. How stupid. Most of the time, though, years pass where you just lay in a drawer somewhere. Peacefully, unbothered, especially now there’s this awesome thing called Netflix! It certainly makes for much better entertainment than constantly replaying the same memories in your head. This era is truly not that bad, allowing you to sit out your sentence without any complications or devastating boredom.
See, to summon you, one has to squeeze the bulb three times, spraying the perfume in one sequence. Most people test the scent out once, decide they don’t like it, then put the bottle away for undefined periods of time until they get rid of it again. Lately, a few actually managed to do it right, but fainted when you appeared. Since your imprisonment, you’ve never actually granted any wish to those who didn’t faint. Well, not in the way they’d hoped for, at least. Not even a thousand years are enough to forget the way those humans betrayed you. It seems only fair to betray them right back.
And now? Right now, you’re meeting an old friend of yours: the dirty, dusty blanket splayed out on the ground where other old artifacts will join you. It’s flea market season again, it seems. The girl who picked up your perfume bottle at the previous one only needed a unique and old looking –sorry, vintage– thing to pose with during her boudoir photoshoot. Now she has no use for it anymore, you’re back in this familiar setting.
It’s so annoying. People pick you up and turn you around in their hands all the time. Can’t they just keep their dirty fingers off of you if they’re not gonna take you?!
“Hey! How much for that cool perfume bottle?” You hear a voice call out to the girl, sounding very chipper.
“Oh, you can just make me an offer! Any small change will do.” She responds.
Really? You’re not even worth a decent amount of money anymore? You’re a thousand years old, hello! That’s, like, antique times ten. You’re probably worth a fortune. What an Idiot.
“Hmm, then…” The boy thinks aloud, scrambling for change, “I just bought this pouch so I don’t have much left… Is this enough?”
“It’s yours!” The girl receives the change –you don’t even want to know how little it is– and another hand picks you up to take you to your new destination. You’ve lost count of the number of places you’ve been. Or rather, you’d stopped counting a long time ago.
“Ooh, there’s still perfume left!” He exclaims in excitement to no one in particular and you inwardly roll your eyes. Yeah, this one is gonna test you out for sure. Great.
Nothing really special happens after that. It doesn’t take too long to reach his home, where he places you in a bathroom cabinet before he takes a shower. He’s a good singer, though, you have to give him that. So this is it, huh? You wonder how many years you’ll spend in here before you’ll get ditched again.
To your surprise, you feel his hand curling around your bottle again. So soon? This is a first.
He sprays some perfume on his wrist and the action makes you feel all tingly and shivery. It relieves you, in a way. A natural thing that happens when someone tries to summon you.
Bringing his wrist to his nose, he takes a whiff. You expect him to be disgusted, like everyone that came before him, but he surprises you again by making a delighted kind of...noise? Oh, my god. It’s happening. He’s gonna do it.
You brace yourself, equal parts anticipating and dreading the reveal. You never know what reaction you’ll get in advance.
What you haven’t been considering, however, is your own reaction when the bulb gets squeezed three times in a row and you’re met with not a face, but something else entirely.
“OH– FUCK, NO!!” You stagger and thrash around to escape from underneath your liberator’s towel, grabbing and stealing it right off his hips.
Both of your screams are in sync when he throws himself on the bathroom floor, pointing at you like he’s seen a ghost. Well, he’s not entirely wrong in this case. Although if you could, you would personally decapitate anyone who would ever insult you by calling you a mere ghost.
“WHAAAaaaat the h-hell a-are you?!” He stammers, wide-eyed and seemingly forgetting he’s still butt-naked as you try to avoid the sight of him by covering your eyes.
“I- Here! Put this on first!” You squeak as you throw the towel back, somewhere in his general direction.
He doesn’t, though. He keeps whining and shaking, rubbing his eyes over and over again in the hope this isn’t real. “This isn’t happening! Not happening!”
“WHY WOULD YOU SPRAY PERFUME ON YOUR– YOUR–” You splutter, embarrassed beyond belief. Hey, it’s been a while, okay?!
“WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?” He yells back equally distressed. “I’M CALLING THE POLICE!”
“Let me explain, I– for fuck’s sake, please, put your penis away.” You groan, reaching for another towel hanging from the rack to throw it at his head. Thank goodness he finally gets it and wraps it around his hips again, the red sheen of embarrassment tinting his cheeks and ears.
“This is happening. Like, in real life. You’re not going insane and you’re not dreaming.” You finally feel comfortable enough to look at him and drone off the words you’ve said time and time again, in the past. Humans aren’t exactly the most intelligent creatures, so you know you have to break it down for them every single time. “I am ___, a genie. You summoned me by...spraying perfume...on your- your dick...uh...”
He looks extremely dumb, with his mouth agape and hair wet and tousled, but also kind of cute. You curse yourself to an additional century of damnation upon realising your weak spot for humans still hasn’t died down completely.
“Seriously, who does that?” You ask, genuinely curious...or concerned. Maybe both.
“I-” He starts, closing his mouth to gulp loudly, “I-I have a date later…”
You nod, still not seeing how this could be a thing. Humans remain to puzzle you. “And your name?”
“M-my name?” He pokes a finger in his chest, “It’s Hoseok.”
It’s silent for a few awkward seconds until he speaks again. “Am I really not going insane? This is… Too crazy.”
“I know, right,” You mumble, more to yourself than to him. “But I can assure you, Hoseok, you’re fine. I’m really here, in your bathroom. Traumatized, but here.”
“Was it really that bad?” he murmurs under his breath, a pout on his lips as he finally remembers how his muscles work and stands up.
“I know you must be really freaked out by suddenly summoning a genie without knowing you were, but imagine how I’m feeling right now. That’s the first thing I saw after centuries of being locked up.”
“Centuries of being locked up?” Hoseok’s brows furrow. “That’s terrible.”
You scoff. “Oh yeah? Try a whole millennium!”
Hoseok looks genuinely horrified. It makes you feel uneasy. You’ve never had this reaction before.
“That’s- wow. Who did this to you?” He asks, carefully stepping closer. You know you’re in your human form, to minimize the shock factor, but you’ve never experienced this amount of compassion from a human before. You’ve only seen them do it to each other. Not you, their magical wish machine.
Right! That’s probably why! You haven’t told him about the wishes yet.
“So, here’s the thing,” You sigh. This is your least favourite part. You know, aside from being imprisoned. “I have to grant you three wishes. There are some limitations to what I’m allowed to do, though, so. Other than those, ask and you shall receive, I guess.”
“Limitations? What kind of limitations?” He asks, looking utterly confused.
Ah shit, here we go.
You shrug. “Let’s see, I can’t make people fall in love with you, can’t bring people back from the dead, or kill anyone for you. That’s pretty much it.”
You could practically see the little gears spinning in his head and you roll your eyes, predicting one of the three will most likely be money again. Going off of his tiny apartment, at least. And the fact he barely had enough money to buy an ugly pouch and your perfume bottle. Also, people just really love money.
“So I can ask for anything, right? Anything outside of those three limitations?” The words leave his lips slowly, as if he’s heavily contemplating something.
“Yup. ‘S what I said.” You knew it. The second you’d talk about the wishes, all supposed concern about you would suddenly disappear.
“Okay!” Hoseok beams, looking like the sun itself. “How about your freedom? I can do that, right?”
“You- what?!”
You must look so incredibly stupid right now, considering the dumbfounded expression on your face, yet it doesn’t deter him in the slightest. “You said I could wish for anything except for those three things you mentioned. You never said I couldn’t wish for your freedom, so there.”
You shake your head in disbelief, “Why would– why would you do that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” He asks, eyebrows frowned in curiosity.
“Because...Because!” You raise your voice now, heated, almost angry for a reason you couldn’t put your finger on, “It’s not how humans are wired! You’re supposed to only think about yourselves! Why aren’t you asking for money or to get revenge on someone like a normal person?!”
Hoseok scoffs. “Wow, sorry to disappoint? By the way you were talking, it sounded like you hate being confined and imprisoned. My bad for misunderstanding.”
Great, now he had you feeling bad about it. You still couldn’t process how he just went and wished for your freedom.
“Even if you’re really crazy enough to waste a wish on my freedom… Why make it your first one? You could still have two wishes left for yourself.” You counter, not knowing whether he’s just overly kind, or plain stupid. Probably the latter. “Once I’m free, I won’t be inclined to fulfill any wishes.”
He shrugs, smiling. “Because the only thing I could think about when you told me your story, was how terrified you must’ve been all this time. How awful you must feel. I know I’d go crazy in there if I were you.” He nods at the perfume bottle.
“But, still,” You murmur, unsure. He sounds so genuine, it’s getting harder to convince yourself of how he must be inherently evil, like you’ve thought all humans are up until...well, now. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m doing okay, you know?” He laughs, the sound ringing beautifully in your ears, “I got a job I enjoy. I know it doesn’t pay much, but that’s okay! I love doing what I do. I have a house that feels like a home… A dog who loves me. My family is still alive and also loves me.”
You’re not going to tear up, damn it. You’re over a thousand years old! Crying is overrated!
“Honestly, there’s just nothing I can think about that I want and don’t have already. But you wanna know something?” He asks, taking a step forward, really looking at you, “I still don’t know if maybe I ate something wrong earlier that makes me hallucinate, but even if I am… I just want to help.”
Well, so much for trying not to cry. Genies need emotional relief too. You’re having trouble looking him in the eyes while tears spilled from yours.
“You look like you’ve lost faith in humans and frankly, I can’t blame you… We’re a mess,” He chuckles, hesitantly raising his arm to take your hand in his. You let him. “But I hope, by doing this, you could let go of your anger and give yourself a chance to start over. With yourself, with us. If I’m given the opportunity to give you that freedom, I’m taking it with both hands and I hope you can forgive us. I hope you can be happy again.”
You feel like you could die, from happiness, from relief. For the longest time it’s what you wished for. One genuinely pure human makes you want to live harder than ever before, when you hear him speak the words to change your life forever.
Pairing : Sam x genie!reader, Dean. John, Bobby.
Word count : 1,497
Written for : @spnfluffbingo
Square : Child AU
Warning : Weechesters. Sam is a sad panda, but it gets better. smidge of 'brotherly love’ aka arguing. Fluffy happy end.
A/N : Before anyone asks, I intend to eventually turn this into a series. Just not sure when right now. This was inspired by Shimmer & Shine, which airs on Treehouse TV (the channel my tv is on the most when we are trying to get the baby to sleep.)
SPN Fluff Bingo Masterlist.
Dropping to sit back on the couch, Sam sighed and played with the small trinket in his hands. “Why do I get my hopes up every year.” the eight year old shook his head. John had promised to be back by Christmas, just like every year. And just like every year, he wasn't. Sam sat in the motel room alone except for his sleeping older brother. When the dusty old bird themed wall clock chirped midnight, he let his head fall back. “Merry Christmas to me.”
He had found a necklace at some antique store in town. Leather rope tied with a knot, and hanging from it was a small bottle. ‘to grant your deepest wishes’ he had been told. Originally he had thought it was Djinn poison, but the top didn't open, and he couldn't hear anything inside when he shook it. He got it for his dad, but since John was a no show, maybe he'd give it to Dean, or keep it for next Christmas. “Yeah, maybe next year will be better.” he lied to himself.
He dangled the necklace over his face. and followed the bottle with his eyes. Left. Right. Left. Right. A small part of him was trying to kill time, hoping John would come through the door any minute. But mostly, he was just trying to tire his eyes enough to close and sleep.
Left. Right. Left. Right. Left.
Sighing again, he let his hand fall to his lap, the bottle nestled under his palm and against his thigh. He closed his eyes and moved his hand, letting the bottle roll against his palm.
“You're young.. but if you have my bottle, you must be my new master.”
Opening his eyes, they settled on you. Your long hair in a braid pulled over your right shoulder to hang down to your hip. The sheer pants, and small top were reminiscent of ‘I dream of Jeannie’ or something you would find a genie wearing in a children's book.
His legs begin to kick, trying to get purchase on the carpeted floor. Eventually they do, and he scrambles back and up the couch, falling over the back of it with a loud thump. When he hears laughter, he peeks over the back with wide eyes.
“You're funny.”
“Maybe it really was djinn poison…” he mumbles to himself. Maybe it's a part of the bottle and not in the bottle. That must be it. “this isn't real…”
You smile falls. “I am no djinn.” you sound insulted and hurt by it.
“Then who are you, and how did you get in here..” he looked around, none of the salt lines Dean had done before going to bed were broken. He couldn't smell sulphur either. “You're not a demon…”
“You brought me here. I'm a genie.”
“Genies aren't real.” he stood, but stayed behind the couch. “Djinn are what most people call genies.”
“I’m not a djinn.” you growled at him. “Djinn are..” you took a deep breath and clenched your jaw. “They grant one final wish and it comes with a heavy price. I do not.” you didn't know how much such a young child could know about djinn, so you kept it simple.
“So you're supposedly a genie? Do I get three wishes?”
“Yes.”
“And then what? Do I pass you along, or..”
“If you wish.”
“Can I wish for more wishes?”
“It would be a wasted wish.”
“Why? Because you can't grant it.. or…”
“Because you get three a day. You just need to wait until the next day. Why waste the wish.”
“Three a day?”
“Mhm.” you nod.
He watched you as you watched him, waiting. “How do I know you're real? How do I know this isn't a dream.”
“Make a wish. But be sure of what you wish for. It might not come how you expect.”
Biting his bottom lip, Sam thought of a simple wish that could be relatively risk free wish. “I wish…” he paused. “I wish to spend Christmas with family.”
You gave him a nod. “Boom Zarahmay,” you clapped your hands together. “First wish of the day.” he watched wide eyed as your hands came apart and as they moved, they left a trail of pink and blue sparkling in their wake. Had never seen anything so beautiful. And then it was gone.
He looked around the room, but nothing had changed. “Where's my wish…”
You gave him a smile and started towards the window. “Your brother is already here. The rest will come.”
A moment later, the phone rang and Sam jumped to pick it up before it woke Dean. “hello?”
“Hey son.” Sam looked up at you when he heard his father's voice. “Why aren't you sleeping? Can't sleep?”
“No. I was waiting up for..” Sam stopped himself. “I'm not sure what..”
“Sorry I'm not there, I know I promised.” he heard his father sigh. “Bobby’ll be there in a few hours to get ya. Christmas at his place this year so you boys aren't alone. I think he said something about gifts for you two? I'll be there by dinner. I promise, Sammy. I mean it this time.”
“Yeah, okay. I'll wake Dean and let him know.”
“Merry Christmas, Sammy. I didn't forget you boys. I'll see you soon.”
“Be careful, dad.” After hanging up he watched you for a minute. “Coincidence. That was just coincidence..”
You shrugged, not turning. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“Well, I need to wake up my brother.. how do-” suddenly you were gone, and when he looked down at the bottle, there was a slight pink and blue sparkle to it for a moment, and it stopped. “Alright..” Stuffing the necklace into his pocket, he went and climbed into the bed his brother slept in. “Dean.” he shook him. “Dean!”
“Huh?” Dean grumbled. “What, Sammy What?”
“Dad called. Bobby's on his way to get us. We gotta pack up.”
“Yeah, Yeah.. Five more minutes.” Dean turned his head away and started snoring again.
With a sigh, Sam got to work packing everything.
Sam stared out the window, watching the snow fall as Bobby drove. He was in the back, while Dean sat in the front chatting away. “So when’d you talk to dad?”
Bobby was quiet for a minute. “Ya know, I don’t remember talking to ‘im.” Bobby furrowed his brow, but kept his eyes on the road. “Strangest thing.”
“Dad called Sammy saying you were coming, so you must have spoken to him.”
“Yeah, must’ve. Probably ‘round when I was half asleep earlier. Been feeling a bit sick. Got a cold or som’in coming on.”
Dean shifted as far as he could away from him. “Keep it to yourself, man. I don’t want it.” He looked at Bobby with disgust.
“Oh, shoot son, and here was was getting ready to plant a big slobbery kiss on ya.” He laughed as Dean’s face contorted even more. “Relax, kid.”
Sam reached into his pocket and pulled the necklace out and looked at it. “It really was you, wasn’t it?”
“What’s that?” Sam glanced up and Bobby was looking at him in the rear view.
“Nothing. Talking to myself.” He tucked the necklace again again.
Dean rolled his eyes. “No wonder he has no friends.”
“I have no friends because your ugly mug scares them away.”
“You take that back!” Dean turned in his seat, glaring at his little brother who just stuck out his tongue.
“Boys! Not in the damn car!”
Bobby sent the boys to bed as soon as they got out of the car. But he stayed up, he had some things to finish up. He wrapped gifts he had bought for the boys, just in case they came around. He even set up an old artificial tree he had had packed away in the basement from long ago. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than nothing.
When John walked in his door, shrugging off the bit of snow that had settled on his shoulders, Bobby spoke. “Why can’t I remember you calling me?”
“I don’t know..” He pulled off his jacket and moved in, letting his bag fall. “Where are the boys?”
“Bed. They were exhausted when we got here, and I figured it’d be nice to let them wake up to a real Christmas.”
John nodded. “Thanks for this, Bobby. And for sending the help so I could get home on time.”
Bobby turned. “I didn’t send anyone.”
“You sure? Phil showed up, said he got word I needed help so I could get home to my boys. I just figured-”
“John, I didn’t call anyone..”
“Huh…” John stood there for a moment, trying to figure out who else could have sent someone to help him. Had Dean called him knowing Sam was upset?
“Dad?” John looked up, and there stood Sam, star wars pjs, bed head and all.
“Hey Sammy. Told you I’d make it.” He smiled.
Sam smiled back. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”
“Merry Christmas, Sammy.”
*If you like, please consider supporting my work, or requesting a commission.*
Warnings: magic, mentions of entrapment, genie!reader
Jeannie in a bottle masterlist
<< Part 1
“Hmm…you look much better in that outfit,” Dean purrs as you get comfortable in the backseat. He watches you in the rear-view mirror, smiling to himself. “Pink suits you.”
“I hate pink,” you grumble. “I only did it to appease you. It’s kinda part of the deal, ya know. I didn’t want to change clothing. That fucker turned me into an obedient bitch.”
“Why didn’t you obey his orders?” Sam asks. He looks at you in the backseat, wondering which spell the bastard used to entrap you. The hunter hopes he can help you.
“Well, that creep used a spell to turn me into his dream girl. A genie like the one in the show. But there was a catch,” you chuckle. “Fucker forgot to read the fine print.”
“Let me guess. Everyone but him can rub the bottle,” Dean asks. “Right? You’ve been waiting for me to free you, sweetheart?”
You smirk at Dean. “The spell he used turned me into a genie and banned me into the bottle, but he’s the only one who cannot free me. If he tries, the bottle hurts him. Or rather the spell.”
“Awesome,” the hunter chuckles. “I’m her hero, Sammy. And I got three wishes. Hmm…I need to think about all the things I want.”
“Dean, remember. We don’t get good things just like that,” Sam warns. Spells, curses, and all the things they encountered over the years always have a catch.
“He’s not wrong, Dean,” you start coughing. You feel a little light-headed and, your body starts to dissipate again. “No! I didn’t say a thing…please!”
“Sweetheart? Genie!” Dean jumps out of the car to reach the backseat. He opens the door and grabs your fading hand. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t break the rules,” you whisper as your body turns back into pink smoke. “I’m sorry…you need to find out on your own…”
“Nooo! Sammy help me!” the hunter panics. He tries to grasp for you, but you are already gone. “She’s back inside the bottle.”
Dean looks at the golden Arabian-styled genie bottle. He carefully picks it up to look it all over.
“I think she wanted to tell you to not use your wishes. Something is fishy about all of this, Dean. Let’s go back to the bunker. I can call Rowena, and maybe…” Sam sighs deeply, “Crowley can help us too.”
“Crowley? Why?”
“First, the guy at the store didn’t look like he was using magic all the time. I think he made a deal to get her into the bottle.”
“A bad deal,” Dean grins. “He cannot free her. You think he made a deal with Crowley or one of his minions?”
“Yes.”
“Uh-Sammy…can you drive? I’ll stay in the backseat and make sure the bottle doesn’t get damaged. Drive carefully.”
“Shut up, you sonofabitch!” Dean growls at the shop owner he has restrained to a chair in the dungeon as the man tries to break out of the handcuffs. “You won’t get out of these. So, stop!”
“She’s mine! You can’t have her. You won’t have her!”
“Listen, you sick creep. She won’t be yours. You entrapped her inside a fucking bottle. Do you honestly believe she will fall in love with you after you stole ten years from her?”
“I don’t want her to love me,” the shop owner grins. “It’s enough to know that she’s mine. I own her. No one will ever free her.”
“We will see.”
“Rub it, rub it. Free her,” Dean singsongs as he rubs the bottle again. “Come out, sweetheart. We go that bastard in the dungeon.”
“Dean—” Pink smoke fills Dean’s room as you finally are free to leave the bottle again. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he says as you stretch your body. “Uh-I didn’t know if genies eat. I made you a bacon burger and got a beer or juice for you.”
“I don’t know either,” you answer honestly. “It’s been ages since I got out of the bottle. I spent my days hammering against the walls of the bottle. It felt like I’m trapped in a nightmare.”
“Damn, that’s awful,” he drops his eyes and shakes his head. Dean realizes having a genie is not like in the show. “But don’t worry. We are on it. Sammy called two…” He wrinkles his nose, “Let’s call them allies. We will find out what that bastard did and free you.”
“Even if you can free me, Dean,” you sniffle, “I lost ten years of my life. I was trapped in a nightmare and couldn’t get out. There is no life I can come back to. Everyone moved on.”
“I’m sorry,” Dean softly says. “Especially for the stupid things I said about the wishes and crap. I had this fantasy about Jeannie from the show, and then you appeared out of nowhere. A real-life genie all for myself. I didn’t know you were entrapped and now I feel like the most awful guy ever.”
“It’s fine,” you sit on Dean’s bed and look around his room. It’s the first time you are in a normal room after years of entrapment. “I’m glad it was you who freed me. Not some creep.”
“Or someone wanting to abuse your powers to take over the world or shit.”
“That’s against the rules! No making someone fall in love with you. No taking over the world. No killing people. No committing crimes. No asking for superpowers.”
“Whoa, a lot of rules,” Dean flashes you a smile. “I guess you won't make me a superhero then.”
“You are already a hero. Aren’t you?” you pat his thigh. “Even I heard of the infamous Winchesters. And, I believe in you. If anyone can help me, it’s you and your brother…”
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