Supernatural Imagines

Coffee's On Me, Sugar

I wanted to publish part 2 of Season Of The Witch but there's so much going on right now in my life that I honestly can't handle the responsibility of writing any smut and it really hurts to write anything like that at the moment. It's just a struggle. So please enjoy this until I can publish part 2. I already missed last week. I don't wanna do that again.

this is an AU that I really wanted to see happen... Sam and Dean own a coffee shop together. Just... Just trust me.

As I walk through the streets of Manhattan, I always find myself thinking that it's very important that you find a good coffee shop. At least that's my own opinion. There's Viand at East 61st and Madison, it's about a twenty-minute walk from The Met, and as much as I love that place, it's not the kind of place where you're able to sit there for hours on end to study for finals. It's the kind of place you grab a coffee and a sandwich to sit for a half hour on a lunch break. But the place I'm going to now is by far my favorite place in the world. Paint it Black *Coffee.

It was perfect. A love seat sat in the front by the window with a coffee table when you first walk in on your left and a bar against the window to your right. As you go deeper into the coffee shop, the scent of freshly baked pie and treats wafts through the air along with the ground coffee beans. A counter in the middle and tables and chairs to sit at scattered around. But my usual seat was in the back in a nook surrounded by bookshelves with a chair of plush crimson and gold embellishments with a wooden writing desk in front of it. It was the perfect chair to curl your body into.

As I open the door I'm met by the speakers blaring classic rock which means the older brother took charge of the music today... along with every other day I've been in here. I walk up to the counter and rummage through my pocket for the twenty-dollar bill I made sure to grab on my way out of the apartment. Screams start coming from the back and slowly start to get louder.

"I don't give a crap, Dean! You said you were going to make the order, and you didn't because you decided to put bourbon in your coffee all yesterday. Not my problem!" It was Sam who was walking towards the counter and he smiled as he saw me. "(Y/n) honey, how are you?" he hums, his demeanor changing as he huffs out a sigh and leans his palms into the counter.

I giggle and brush my hair behind my ear being met with his sunflower hazel eyes. "I'm okay... seems like all hell broke loose, huh?"

He lets out a short laugh and nods. "The usual?" he hums as he already starts grabbing a mug from behind the bar and begins pouring the coffee. I nod, already knowing that it'll taste amazing. Sam made my coffee right every time. Dean would make it and don't get me wrong, it was amazing but there was always something missing. "Your boyfriend's in the back if you wanna go and say hi."

I only scoff as he hands me the mug. "He's not my boyfriend Sam."

He gives his usual bitch face as he shrugs. "I know... but I see the way you look at him."

I can only shake my head. "I don't work here."

"Well, you fooled me. Go say hi," he demands more sternly, obviously not wanting to put up with my shit today as he gestures towards the door leading into the back.

I roll my eyes as I step behind the counter taking a sip of the coffee. God, it was better than heaven. I don't know why Sam dropped out of college to make this happen with Dean, but I'm glad they did in a way. Being 23 I decided to go to college with Sam's encouragement two years ago. He was a good friend. They've offered me a job here more than a handful of times but the shifts never seem to collide with my schedule anymore. I'm just glad I can still come here on occasion to see them.

On another note... maybe there was another reason why this place was my favorite. Dean... his beauty was otherworldly. He was kind, and even though he could start a fight with anything that moved, he was just the kind to sell his soul for you. He was more than sweet. He was the poster image for a bad boy but I enjoyed his company so much he never seemed like one. He was a geek. Ask him anything about a band and he could give you the answer. Constantly making Star Trek references and reading books you wouldn't think he would. He was just... different. Yeah he was five years older than I was but none of that seemed to matter.