Dean Imagine

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Fine pie

∽∽∽

"Feels good to get out of there," you groaned, stretching while you get out of your car. You had been driving for 3 hours straight, nor break, no nothing. Almost sluggishly, you read the sign of the place you decided to stop at. "Luke's." You read aloud and shrugged. "Sounds good to me." You walked on inside, whistling ever so slightly.

There was a bar stool, and you took the chance to sit at it. A nice guy came up to you, looking around his late 20's. "What can I get you?" He said smoothly, a cocky and determined look in his cerulean eyes. "Do you have pie?" You asked, your stomach pawing at you for pie. He gave you a look. "Sweetie, we're at a bar. We don't sell pie." You frowned and got up. "Well, I'm going to go find a decent place that does." You turned your back and the bartender began to leave. "That doesn't disrespect their—" the guy came rushing over, his manager listening in.

"Pie? You want pie? Here, let me get you some pie!" He said hysterically, rushing to the back. You sighed and plopped back down, looking at your phone. You planned that, waiting to say your words just as the manager was in ear-shot. People would call you a bitch, but you would prefer something less foul. Which is hypocritical, considering you had a foul mouth as well.

The door to the bar chimed and you didn't bother turning around. Your mind was too focused on that pie. Albeit you didn't know what the flavour was, you undoubtedly knew you would like it. People sat next to you, looking oddly familiar to you. The bartender came back, looking mildly disheveled and annoyed. "Here's your pie." He grumbled, sitting down a slice of pie on a ceramic plate. You clasped your hands together, licking your lips.

"Thank you!" You grinned and then frowned. "Fork?" "Fork." The guy confirmed, sliding one towards you. You picked it up, observing it and paying your gratitude. With money, of course. "15 enough?" You asked, fishing the bills from your wallet. It was almost empty. Soon, you'll have to go get some more. From your job. That you knew barely anyone else did. Which, so far, you were alone in it.

He nodded, accepting the cash. You heard harsh whispering, but paid to mind to it. It wasn't your business, so why get involved? You ate a bite of the pie, your body going lax as the flavour touched your tongue and soothed your grumbling and rumbling stomach. "Dean," you stiffened. Dean? As in, the Dean? You fidgeted in your chair and calmed your nerves. You must be mistaken, there are plenty of other Deans.

"But Sam," OK, enough coincidence. Sam and Dean? The ones who started and stopped the apocalypse? And what were they talking about? Another fun thing? God, you wished so badly you could go with them. Almost as if you were wanting to stay—which you were—and slowed down on your pie. You were halfway done when the bartender came back.

"Almost done? We need to keep filtering." You shot a quick glare at him and continued to eat, sighing contently. "Dean, I said no." You giggled quietly to yourself and finally turned to them. Your heart skipped a beat.

Oh my...it really is them!

Dean flashed you a wink. Sam face palmed. You giggled. A little flirting never hurt nobody. "I couldn't help but notice, you've got pie." You nodded, then looked down. "Want some?" You offered, Dean locking gazes with you. "Wouldn't pass up a good offer."

∽∽∽

Blinding light hit your eyes and you groaned, rubbing them and throwing back the covers on your body. You tried to get up, but felt something heavy on your torso. Looking down, you realised it was an arm. You squeaked as it pulled you closer to a body, making blood rush to your face. "Mmm," they moaned, letting out a long breath.

You were in a motel room, one way different than yours. You observed your surroundings, actually quite interested. A head popped out of the small kitchenette. "Sorry about him, want eggs?" You stopped breathing for a second. "O-Okay..." You stammered, glad that your body was covered in a shirt...that doesn't belong to you. "Cool. Dean should wake up in a bit."

Sam disappeared and you fell back, arms enveloping you again and him nuzzling your neck. "Wow, the Winchesters..." You breathed to yourself. "now I need to find a job." "Like what?" You jumped a little, biting your bottom lip. "You would...no, wait, you would." You chuckle nervously. "Demons, witches, ghosts, etc." Dean sat up, looking you in the eye.

"God, you just kept getting more perfect."

You blushed at this comment, not prepared for him to kiss you. Maybe driving those 3 hours straight wasn't so bad.

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