Supernatural Imagines: Book One

That's My Wife

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: unwanted attention, minor angst, mostly fluff

Word Count: 502

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You just got back from a hunt which was more tiring than you originally thought it was going to be. What you thought couldn't go wrong did, and your close-knit team didn't work as well as you have in the past. Sam and Dean have been fighting recently about hunting and doing things their way, so of course, this case was a disaster.

The only good thing to come out of it was that you and Dean had to play a married couple in order to capture the monster. The creature was targeting newlywed couples who were happy and in love, so you and Dean had to play the part. Sam couldn't do it since he was needed somewhere else, but it's not like you really minded.

Being married to Dean hasn't been all bad, especially when it came to diverting creepy men who were looking for someone to prey upon. With the case being over, you and Dean decided to drink in the local bar while Sam went back to the motel to get some sleep.

"Two whiskeys, please. Neat," you ask the bartender.

"Nice rock," she says with a smile.

So much shit has gone down that you actually forgot about the ring. You blush and subtly try to hide your left hand from her view.

"Thank you."

She gets you what you ordered, and you pay her for them right now instead of waiting at the end of the day to do it. You're on your way back to your table when someone steps into your path.

"Oh, sorry," you apologize and try to go around him. However, he grabs your arm before you could get too far from him. You turn and look at him, glancing at the hand that's on your arm. He takes it away once he knows you don't want it there. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I seem to have lost my phone. Could you call it for me?"

You'd know that pickup line from anywhere.

"Nice try, but I'm sure someone else could help."

"I'm don't want to ask anyone."

His tone has shifted from friendly to aggressive in .1 seconds. You could easily kick his ass, but luckily, you don't have to. You feel a presence behind you, and judging by the smell of them, you know exactly who it is.

"Leave her alone," Dean growls at the man.

"Or what?"

"That's my wife you're talking to. Beat it before I beat you."

The man clearly isn't here to start a fight, so he leaves without another word. You and Dean head back to the table alone.

"You didn't have to do that," you chuckle. "I could have easily taken him."

"You're my wife. A man should take care of his lady."

"We're not really married, though."

"Let's pretend for the rest of the night we are. I'm not ready to let you go just yet," he smirks.

"Okay. To us," you toast, holding your glass for him to clink.

"To us."