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⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Roadside ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

₊ ˚ ⊹ Chapter four: Under the hood ₊ ˚ ⊹

read on ao3 ⊹ read chapter three ⊹ series masterlist ⊹

make and model summary: you hang out in the shop while dean fixes your car

pairings: older mechanic!Dean winchester x afab!reader

mileage: 5k

diagnostic warnings: mdni. suggestive language. age gap 20s-40s. reader is both a bratty daddy's girl AND sweetie pie. no smut (yet). fluff. meet cute. mutual pining. dean is a smoker. marijuana usage. probably wrong car lingo. slow burn.

kay’s notes: not proof read. all my fellow arts and crafts girlies RISE UP!! it’s your time to shine!!! buckle up for both reader AND dean overthinking everything. once again, this is self indulgent as FUCK so my apologies if it’s cringe.

Usually, changing coil packs for Dean was about a thirty to forty five minute process, if the engine made it easy to get to. At this point in his career, he’s done the task countless times on all kinds types of vehicles.

Changing the coil packs on your car was a particularly easy task, as they were right on top of the spark plugs, but that didn’t stop him from taking his sweet time, wanting to keep you in the shop for as long as possible.

The conversation about hiking together died down around five minutes ago, both of you unsure on what to say next. You sat on a rolling stool only a few feet away, watching him loosen and tighten different bolts using a socket wrench, cigarette still in his mouth. You could see the veins in his arms with each flex of his muscles. The sight of him doing something so mundane , looking so good, made your mouth water.

You felt like a middle school boy, seeing Megan Fox in the Transformers movie for the first time. That scene where she’s working under the hood, sweat glistening, looking absolutely delectable? Yep. Dean Winchester was your personal male equivalent to Megan Fox.

Desperately in search of a social buffer and something else to focus on, you pull out your phone, feigning boredom. It felt weird watching him for too long. Sure, he said you were welcome to stay, but you didn’t wanna push your luck by hovering and practically drooling all over him. You’re sure he gets enough attention like that as it is.

Dean didn’t mind though. The sound of Alice in chains greatest hits was still playing on the radio. For some reason, he felt at ease- even with you there watching him work- occasionally singing along to the music under his breath.

Once you had pulled your phone out, Dean finally glanced up from the engine at you. He watched as you nibbled on your lip, scrolling.

You still had your hair clipped up, anxiously tapping a foot along with the music. The way you were sitting on the low stool, caused your thighs to completely swallow those jean shorts. And the leg shaking along with your foot was just calling his attention to the area more.

Dean felt like a dude in one of those victorian period piece shows that gets flustered at the sight of a little ankle. He knew he needed to pull himself together.

You break the silence first, eyes not leaving the phone screen. “Ya know, Bobby really needs to work on the interface of the shops website. When did he make this? 2008?”

Dean chuckles, pausing to drop his cigarette in a near by ashtray. Then continues to lean over the engine of the car, tightening some bolts. “Probably. I think my brother helped him put it together… but that was at least five to ten years ago.”

You shrug, still looking at your phone and judging the color scheme, layout, and overall vibe of the Singer Auto Salvage official website. “I mean, with a website like this, you’d wonder if he even wants new customers. Looks outdated as hell.”

He raises a brow and finishes tightening one last bolt on the current coil.

You continue casually, brows drawn together. “Like, there’s no pictures or about page. It's basically just a home page with the business name and phone number. And the color scheme? Not great.”

You finally tear your eyes away from the phone screen. Dean stands up from the open hood and turns to grab another coil, holding it up while looking at you. “Hey, easy on my man Bobby. He’s workin with what he’s got. We get a steady enough flow of customers just fine without some fancy website.”

He knows you have a point. The website could be better. It wasn’t the easiest to navigate or helpful in finding out important information about the business. But Dean always feels defensive of Bobby, wanting to look out for the man who spent so many years doing the same for him.

You hold a hand up in mock defence. “I’m not hating on the man, just giving constructive feedback. As a customer.”

“Okay. Well, do you have any positive feedback?” He asks sassily, going back under the hood.

“I do appreciate that it says ‘family owned business since 1955’.” You say, holding up a hand for air quotes. Adding dramatically, “DAMN. That’s a long time.”

Dean lets out a small huff, trying to hide a laugh. Turning his focus back to the engine. He nods, corners of his mouth tugging up. “It is.”

You make a mental note to have a chat with Bobby later about upgrading the business’ online presence. You could easily help him get something better up and running in the span of an hour or two. Maybe even make them a business instagram while you’re at it.

Before you know it, Dean has already finished replacing the coil packs and is wiping his hands with a rag, eyes catching the oil cap. “Alright, coil pack’s replaced. When was the last time you checked your oil?”

You look up from your phone and raise a brow. Looking around the room as you think. “Uhh…I dunno.”

You’re too embarrassed to admit that your dad usually handles that task for you. It felt like saying that out loud would confirm his accusation in the tow truck the other night.

Of course, you know how to check the oil in your car. You were a capable, independent woman with the full ability to check the oil in your car. You just… didn’t. Your procrastination was a beast of it's own. Especially when it was one of those tasks most people don't enjoy doing, like putting away laundry, for instance. It was a necessary chore, but most of the time your dad would just check it every once in a while, before you got around to it. So therefore, you mentally assigned that job for your father or whatever local mechanic you took the car to back home, and rarely spared it any thought.

But Dean didn’t need to know that. You didn't want to feed into his idea that you might be some 'spoiled daddy's girl'.

Deans brows furrowed, frowning. "When was the last time you had your oil changed?"

He grabs a used rag from a nearby toolbox and unscrews the oil cap.

You take a minute, tapping your chin in thought. You had no clue. Maybe a few months? "A while ago..."

Pulling the oil dip stick from it's place, his frow deepens at the sight. The stick was dry and dirty. Not a great combination.

"What?" You ask, standing.

He raises his hand, beckoning you over with one finger. "C'mere."

You shuffle over, immediately following his command. "Whaat?"

"Do you know what this means?" He asks, holding the dip stick up for you to see.

You grimace with a sheepish smile as you look at the dry as fuck stick, knowing that can’t be good.

"It means-"

You interrupt, holding up a hand. "Girl, I don't need you to mansplain to me."

You didn't think Dean's scowl could get any deeper, offended. "Mansplain?"

“You never heard of it? i’m sure you mansplain more often than you’d think.” You shrug.

“I don’t mansplain-“ He cuts himself off and shakes his head, "Whatever. You need an oil change bad,” brushing aside your accusation so he can get to the point.

You sigh and turn to sit back on the stool. "Fine, add it to my tab."

Dean rolls his eyes and gets right to work on changing the oil in your car, sparing a glance at you whenever he thinks you're not looking.

The truth is; he's happy to take care of this task for you, especially with you there- sitting pretty- while watching him. He wouldn't want another situation like last night to happen again. The idea of you being stuck on the side of the road bothers him. His mind can't help but go to all the bad people (or creatures) out there who would be capable of hurting a girl like you. He’s seen it far too many times.

He clenches a fist at the thought, then moves to put a jack under the car, lifting it up.

While Dean does the oil change, you go back to scrolling on your phone. You see a notification from the friend you were on the phone with last night.

'Any update on the car situation?' She texts.

Instead of typing out a long winded response about your night after getting off the phone with her, you look at Dean. He's focused on jacking up the car, he'd have to look over his shoulder to see you properly.

Your eyes flick between the phone and your view of Dean. You bite your lip and click the camera button. You very slowly and cautiously, try to sneakily snap a picture of your point of view, wanting to show your friend the handsome man that rescued you.

To your complete and utter mortification, the smart phone’s camera shutter sounds off rather loudly. Rookie mistake.

You fumble to cover the camera of the phone and disable the ringer.

Deans head whips around and you drop the phone in your lap.

Nothing is more humbling than getting caught trying to sneak a photo of somebody. Why did it have to be so loud?

Your face has gone beat red, humiliation crashing over you like a wave.

He turns the rest of his body to face you, one hand resting on the handle of the car jack, and raises a brow. A smirk threatens to tug at the corner of his lips.

"I- uh... was sending a picture of my car... in the shop... to one of my friends." You say quickly, trying way too hard to play it off like you weren't taking a picture of him

A smug look takes over his face. Brows raised in disbelief, he bites a lip and nods before turning back to the car. Dean contemplates asking to see the picture, to check if you were telling the truth, but decides to stay quiet. He feels a sick satisfaction at the idea of you taking a picture of him working. All you had to do was ask and he’d gladly take all the pictures you wanted.

Well, you already embarrassed yourself sneaking the picture, might as well continue sending it to your friend.

You send the photo along with the message,

‘LOL he caught me taking this 😭’

The next thirty minutes are spent with your face shoved in your phone, too humbled now to try and keep up a conversation.

Dean was able to complete the task of changing the oil with ease, having done it dozens of times before.

After taking the car off the jack, Dean steps away from the open hood and moves to wipe his hands on a fresh rag. He says to you, "Welp, that's done. Wanna give her a start?"

You finally look up at him again from your phone. You grab the keys from your bag and stand up with a stretch. "Moment of truth." You say.

Deans eyes caught the hem of your shirt when you reach your arms above your head, noticing the curves of your waist and hips. He clears his throat and digs a hand into his pocket with the lighter, fingers wrapping around the thing, still holding the rag in his other hand.

You pull the car door open and go to sit down in the drivers seat.

He tosses the rag so it's resting on one shoulder and walks around the front of the car over to you, one hand still clutching the lighter hidden away in his pocket.

You go to turn the key over in the ignition and the car starts seamlessly, the engine purring to life with no crunch or suspicious noises.

The check engine light is still on though.

Dean notices this from where he stands and leans down to look at the dashboard, mere inches from you with one hand resting on the car door. You look at him from the corner of your eye, fighting the urge to turn your head so you can see him better.

This close, even from your peripheral, you can see the faint freckles dusted across his face and the softness of his mouth.

You look from the check engine light to Dean and say casually, "It's okay, that thing has been on for a while now."

He turns to look at you, mere inches from your face. His brows furrowed. "What?"

You shrug, "The check engine light. It's been on for, like, a year? But every time I've taken it somewhere, they say they can't find the problem."

His closes his eyes in exasperation, then opens them to look back at the dashboard. "Well, it's up and running again but I don't want you to drive it off this lot until I figure out what the check engine light is all about."

"Sooooo...?" You trail off in question.

"So-" He stands back up, still between you, sat in the drivers seat, and the open car door. From this angle, he looks down at you, "Gimme the afternoon to check it out with the code reader. Just so I can make sure you don't end up broke down again."

You cut the engine and look up at him. "So I guess I'll just go find something else to do in the meantime..."

"You're still welcome to hang out here. I'm sure Bobby is back in the office now if you wanna go take him his food." He suggests.

"Good idea." You nod.

He's still standing there, looking down at you, and unknowingly preventing you from leaving. "I can, uhm, text you when it's ready?"

"Yeah, yeah of course." You stammer, holding out a hand. "I can... give you my number."

Dean fumbles to get his phone from his back pocket, opening up his contacts and handing it over to you.

It's just as you finish putting in your contact information that Bobby rounds the corner of the open shop door. "Hey, Dean-"

He stops at the sight of you and Dean holding his phone between the both of you.

It's only now that Dean realizes how close he's standing to you, how intimate it might look with him staring down at you, your head at eye level with his hips. Neither of you realised how incriminating this might look. Now you both look at Bobby with wide eyes, like a deer caught in too bright headlights.

He takes a big step back from the open car door and quickly puts the phone back in his pocket, giving Bobby a nervous smile. Technically, he wasn't doing anything wrong… but still felt like a kid caught red handed reaching in a cookie jar, knowing it was wrong.

"Hey! Bobby!" Dean says, a little too cheerful, playing it off.

Bobby stood in the doorway, eyes darting between you and Dean.

You awkwardly stand up from the car and adjust your purse strap on your shoulder. "Hi, Bobby."

His eyes continue to flick between the two of you before he says, "Hey, kid. Long time, no see. How ya been?"

You fiddle with the car keys in your hand. You give a soft smile. "Oh, you know, doing alright. Wasn't so great breaking down last night but thankfully you guys helped me out with that."

"I'm glad we could help." He nods.

"Oh! I brought some lunch for y'all as a thank you. Your plate should be in the fridge." You say, remembering that you got him food too.

"That's very kind, thank you."

"Before I go, I was talking to Dean about the website... and-er, was wondering if you wanted help updating it? It's kinda hard to navigate... and I feel like it could use some.... love." You say shyly, afraid of offending him. You don't really know how to tell Bobby that the website sucks and he needs to up the shop's online presence.

His face stays unreadable as he contemplates your proposal. Looking at Dean before returning his focus to you. "Yeah, sure. I don't think Sam's updated it since 2014. I'm not real good at the technology stuff, so I wouldn't mind someone handlin’ that for me."

After planning a time to get together with Bobby for his website, you were on your merry way, telling them you'd be back later for the car. You told him you'd research some good site designs in the meantime.

They watch as you walk away from the shop with a renewed sense of purpose.

Soon as you’re far out of hearing range, Bobby turns to Dean and gives him a hard smack on the shoulder.

"Ow! What was that for?" Dean asks defensively, rubbing his shoulder.

"That's for being a damn idjit! I saw how close y'all were earlier." Bobby says, completely annoyed.

"Dude, what? I wasn't doin' nothin’." Dean says, brushing off the accusation.

"Dean, you better leave that girl alone or so help me god..."

"I. wasn't. doing. anything." Dean says, tone growing serious, annoyed that Bobby thought so low of him.

Bobby puts his hands on his hips. "But you were thinkin' bout it. Who knows what you would’ve done if I hadn’t walked in.”

This offends him even more. Bobby is basically implying that Dean would’ve taken her right there in the middle of the shop, in broad daylight, if he hadn’t interrupted. And while Dean is a freak, the thought of fucking you in his place of work hadn’t even crossed his mind. He was far too busy trying not to get flustered just standing so close to you for him to think that far ahead.

"Look, man, you just walked in at a bad time without the context." Dean shrugs, mirroring Bobby's stance.

Bobby rolls his eyes. "I know you, Dean. I know how you think."

"You don't know what i'm thinking." Dean says incredulously.

"Son, all I'm saying is… I got enough on my plate keeping this shop afloat and I don't need you screwin’ around with my friend’s daughter." Bobby huffs before adding. "I'm not tryin' to lose my car show buddy cause ya can't keep it in your pants."

"I can keep it in my pants just fine, thank you." Dean quips, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I certainly hope so. Mess around with whoever you want but that girl is off limits. You'd just end up hurtin' her."

Dean feels a pang of hurt in his chest at the statement. He knows he hasn't had a good track record with women, but he's not evil. He knew how to let a girl down gently. And while he was trying his damnedest to not do anything with you, not to make a move, he can’t deny that he wanted to. But you weren’t someone he could hook up with just for the sake of getting off. He knew that much.

He had no interest in messing up the relationship between Bobby and your dad. He knew that a girl like you deserved way better than what he had to offer. You had your whole life ahead of you. While Dean felt like he was always just waiting for the other shoe to drop, like something bad was just waiting around the corner for him.

At this, he doesn’t respond to Bobby, just pulls out a cigarette and lights up with the bedazzled lighter.

Bobby sees the bright pink, glittery thing in the younger man’s hand. His eyes narrow a fraction before he scoffs, not needing to ask where it came from. He knows, already jumping to the worst conclusion.

Dean lets out a puff of smoke, his previous good mood turning sour. “Look, nothing has happened between us. Nothing is going to happen between us. I just wanna look out for her, especially because of your friendship with her father.”

Bobby just stares at him.

He continues, holding the cigarette between his pointer and middle finger, “She doesn’t have anyone out here apart from her aunt. She seems like a sweet girl, I wanna make sure she’s good.”

It’s the right thing to do, Dean tells himself. As if he can make himself believe that his intentions are completely pure. This is half true. He does want to look out for you. He does want to make sure everything goes well for you this summer. But he’d be lying if he said the thought of taking you right there, bent over the hood of your car, didn’t sound nice.

“Sure.” Bobby retorts, rather sarcastically, before turning to exit the shop, back to the office.

Dean takes another drag, holding the smoke in for a moment, staring at the floor, still clutching the lighter in one hand.

Bobby comes back in, silently remembering to grab the food in the fridge, before promptly leaving again.

Dean lets out something between a grunt and a chuckle, exhaling the thick smoke. Now leaning up against a tool box, he takes his time finishing that cigarette.

Then, he turns the music back up, eventually getting back to working on your car. His jaw clenched the whole time, the last hour with you replaying in his head, as well as his tense conversation with Bobby.

After leaving the Singer auto shop, you made your way back to the motel, calling your aunt to tell her about the delay. She was totally understanding and asked if you needed anything from her while you waited for more news on your car. You didn’t.

Once getting off the phone with her, you pulled out your laptop and looked up some inspo for Bobby’s website. You spent about an hour compiling a few different ideas and making a mockup of the site.

The next hour was spent with you sat on the motel bed, craft supplies strewn about, watching the latest season of Love Island US. It was summer after all, and you wanted to keep up with the online discourse. Originally being a reality tv show hater, all it took was the fomo of your friends chatting about it- you having no clue what they were talking about- to join the bandwagon. It was so so bad. But so good. Like a train wreck you couldn’t look away from.

You were in the middle of bedazzling a new lighter- after realising you lost the pink one- when your phone lit up with a text from an unknown number.

‘Couldn’t seem to figure out what the engine light was all about. It wasn’t throwing a code or anything but I drove it around the lot to make sure theres nothing wrong. You should be good to come pick it up now.’

You frown at the message before typing out a response. Then you put Deans contact info into your phone.

You: No worries! Like i said, it’s been like that for a while and no one else could figure it out. I’ll be there in like an hour

Immediately the message goes from delivered to read, the typing bubble popping up on his end, disappearing, then showing again.

Dean Winchester: I was hoping i'd get it taken care of for you...

Reading his response causes heat to creep up your neck, feeling flustered at how... nice he's being. You go to type out a response but nothing seems to feel right. He's already done enough for you as it is. You decide not to respond in fear of saying the wrong thing, so you return your focus back on the craft project in front of you.

It's been an hour since Dean sent that last text. He's currently in the process of doing a basic maintenance check on a different customers car. He needed to distract himself from staring at your text conversation. When he sent the last text, he typed out at least three different follow-up message before scrapping the idea altogether. He stood there, in front of the car, staring at his phone for a solid five minutes. Did he say too much? He probably should've chilled out on the last text message and now wondered if he's proving Bobby right just by messaging you.

Now he's there in the shop, laying under yet another car, and feeling like an absolute tool.

By the time you got back to the auto garage, you could see your car already pulled out of the garage and into the gravel lot, ready to go.

You went ahead and squared up the payment with Bobby in the office. He asked you how your parents were doing. Small talk. You say thank you and turn to leave.

But before you go, Bobby says, “Dean told me about the check engine light that won’t turn off. Said you got over 300,000 miles on the car?”

You nod, letting out a short laugh. “Yes, sir. That thing has been with me through a lot.”

“Well, it might not be a bad idea to start lookin into other cars out there. I’m all for drivin’ it till the wheels fall off… but they’re pretty close to fallin’ off already.” He says earnestly.

“It’s not that bad, is it?”

He shrugs, “You might be able to get another year or so out of it….but be careful.”

You salute. “Will do.” Heading back outside.

As you walk to your car parked in front of the open garage door, your eyes spot Dean- he's in the shop, laying on a creeper as he works under an old pickup truck. From where you stand, you can mostly just see his lower half, shirt lifting up to expose his stomach as he reaches up to the vehicles undercarriage. The music from earlier has been cranked back up, the sound of drums and guitar blasting through the speakers.

When you approach, Dean catches the sight of your shoes from his peripheral and slides out from under the truck. He looks sweatier than he did earlier- covered in more dirt and grime. Still handsome, though.

He wipes a forearm over his forehead in an effort to remove some of the sweat. It really just smudges more grease across his face.

You take a step closer, once again trying to yell over the music. Sheepish smile. "Sorry to interrupt!"

He stands up from his place on the creeper, and goes to turn the music down again.

You continue. "I just wanted to say thank you...again. You were such a big help the other night."

He gives you a small, closed mouth smile, waving you off. "It's really no problem. I'm just sorry I couldn't figure out what was wrong with the check engine light." He sighs at that.

Dean really was annoyed that he couldn't solve what was causing the warning light to come on. He pulled out all the stops to try and figure out what could be the cause, but the OBD scanner wasn’t throwing him a code. It was as if the light was on for no apparent reason. Dean prided himself in being a good mechanic. Usually, there wasn't a car issue he couldn't fix- and it personally offended him that he wasn't able to take care of it for you.

You reach into your bag, pulling out a new bedazzled lighter, and hold your hand out to give it to him. “I made you this as a thank you.”

This one was different from the bright pink one currently in his pocket.

For one, it was black. Completely covered in black rhinestones- and as he looked closer, he saw that it had little skull and gun gems on it as well. A ‘manlier’ version of the previous one. Well, as manly as a rhinestone covered lighter can me. Which isn’t much.

He holds it in his hand, looking closely at all the details as a smile grows on his face. In complete awe at your kindness, he whispers, “Dude…”

You feel the need to explain yourself. “Sorry if that’s like, weird or something.” You shyly hold your hands behind you, eyes moving to your shoes. “I lost the one I had last night and decided to decorate a new one- figured i’d make one for you while I was at it.”

At this, Dean is speechless. He’s never had someone put so much effort into making something for him. The image of you, sitting there, tediously placing each individual gem by hand…. all for him? Was beyond his comprehension. You didn’t even know him. He felt like you owed him absolutely nothing.

His silence causes you to continue rambling. “If you don’t want it, that’s totally okay. My feelings won’t be hurt. I just wanted to show you my appreciation. Sorry, if it’s- uh, too weird….or something.”

This is a lie. Your feelings would definitely be hurt if he didn’t take it.

At this point, you’re just trying to fill the silence.“Also, if you see my lighter in your truck, let me know. I really like that one.”

“No no! Im keeping it.” He says hastily, trying to reassure you, still looking at the thing in astonishment. “Its….really nice of you.”

You’re unsure how to take his response. Did he not like it? Was it too much? Was he just saying that to appease you?

You smile, feeling apprehensive about his reaction.

It’s not like you were expecting him to make a big deal about it or anything. But maybe you just wanted something more than that initial silence? Sure, it’s a bedazzled lighter you just gifted to a grown man. You’re reasonable enough to know that plenty of men think they’re too macho to carry around something like that- let alone consider it cool.

But what you don’t know is that Dean admired your little craft so much; he’s already carrying one around.

“Welp, i’m gonna head out.” You say awkwardly. “I’ll shoot you a text about that hike sometime next week.”

He’s still standing there, stupidly looking between you and the lighter in his hand. He tries to lean against the nearby truck, wanting to play it cool. “Sounds good. Looking forward to it- Let me know if you, uh, need anything else.”

“Will do. See you later.” You wave awkwardly.

He gives you a single nod, then smirk creeps onto his face. “Try not to break down again.”

And with that, you’re quickly out of the shop and on the way to your aunts house.

kay's afterthoughts: thank you so much for reading this far! all of you who have left sweet comments warm my heart fr. but yall- i must confess i be stoned as hell writing all of these chapters, just vibing. so my apologies if it ever gets repetitive or has some grammar/spelling errors. its been so self indulgent of me but who cares! i’m having a blast writing it.

ALSO, i bedazzled the aforementioned lighters and will be posting inspo pics of them sometime soon. Im just waiting to use my bf as a prop for the photo lol

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated <3

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