Photo credit: found on Pinterest
Summary: Dean sees you for the first time in professional wear for a case and likes what he sees, but doesn’t admit it. Reader (Y/N) decides to have fun with it so he doesn’t see that she’s flustered.
Ok, so I tweaked the imagine a bit from a dress to button down blouse and skirt.
Pairings: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 1,802
Warnings: None that I can think of, it’s pure fluff. That being said, it’s my first ever fic!
You look at yourself in the mirror again. This was the part of hunting that you hated - wearing professional clothing to help give you the appearance of a federal agent. Ugh, do I really have to wear a -
"Y/N. MOVE. NOW." Dean shouted from the other room. He was pretty anxious to get this case over with. Bobby Singer had called you to help these two idiots who evidently couldn't figure out how to defeat a simple witch, and knowing you were skilled in witchcraft yourself, asked if you could help them. Normally, you would have happily helped out, but you had already planned a week by the beach with a new book when Bobby called. Had he not saved your hide more times than you could count, you probably would have said no. While Sam was busy hacking into the coroner's security system from Bobby's kitchen, you and Dean were going to go and inspect the corpses that were found with hearts frozen inside their bodies. The pair of you were also going to see if you couldn't go and grab a few files that Sam thought might help you to narrow down your suspect list. It was your personal suspicion that these were a ex lovers of the same person seeking revenge in a most poetic fashion, and if you were right, there should be a hex bag hidden somewhere on the body or among their possessions.
"Y/N!"
God, he's so impatient. You roll your eyes before glancing in the mirror and adjust a strand of hair as you loosen your ponytail just a bit. Better. Satisfied with your appearance, you leave the room, looking down at your blouse, smoothing it a little as you walk. "Get the knots out of your pantyhose dude," you grumpily replied. You had only known "the boys" as Bobby affectionately called them a few days (although you'd heard about the legendary hunters for years), and were expecting a snappy quip to shoot back at you from the elder Winchester. So you were a little surprised when you were met with silence. Suddenly suspicious and self conscious, you looked up to meet a stunned and quiet Dean Winchester. Sam glanced up from his laptop, looking from you to Dean, and chuckled to himself, muttering "Down boy," to his brother. Dean shot him a sharp look, but still said nothing.
You struggled to hide how self-conscious you were, and couldn’t help the slight blush that crept up your neck. Up until now, they had seen you sporting yoga pants and loose t-shirts with a sports bra, so a slim fitting pencil skirt and equally snug blue button down blouse with a push-up bra was a different look entirely. Dean liked what he saw, at least that's what Sam's comment led you to believe, but at the same time you were completely baffled. Why would he be interested in me? you thought. You didn't want to admit it, but you had been attracted to those bright green eyes and that cocky grin from the moment he said hello.
Determined not to let him see you flustered, you smiled innocently before purring "What's wrong, Dean? Cat got your tongue?"
He struggled to compose himself for a moment, adjusting his tie a bit as he spoke. "I'm fine. Just annoyed you took so long to get ready is all."
Cas looked completely confused. Looking at you from his seat next to Sam, he stated in all earnestness, "His tongue, as with normal human anatomy, is sitting in his mouth.” He paused, thinking and shifting slightly, “I am unsure as to what this cat you mention has to do with anything, or why he would be implicated in the disappearance of a body part, but I can assure you he is innocent. But if you'd like me to look into a cat stealing human tongues, I can." You couldn't help but smile at the sweet angel, who was always more than willing to help. Sam struggled to stifle a laugh, covering his mouth as his eyes met yours. The younger Winchester and you had quickly become friends within the short amount of time that you knew each other. He respected your intelligence, and had a softness to him that his older brother didn't.
"No, Cas... It's... nevermind. Don't worry about it," Dean said, clearly exasperated and rolling his eyes before nodding his head and taking a seat. "Let's go over the plan again Sammy."
Sam immediately started delving into the finer points, reviewing what you knew so far, what you suspected, and what you were about to do. You listened as best as you could, but your mind was still reeling a bit from Dean's reaction to your attire. That's when it hit you: I could mess with him a bit. Why not? As cocky as the son-of-a-bitch was, it wouldn't hurt to knock him down a few pegs. But did you have the guts to go through with it? The more you thought about it, the more your resolve strengthened. For heaven's sake, you've gone up against a djinn on your own, you could handle one Winchester… right?
As Sam continued on, you waited until Dean was staring in your direction. Careful not to let him see that you noticed, you pretended to be suddenly concerned with a spot on your stocking. Frowning, you hoisted one leg up onto a chair, and bent over to hike up your skirt a little, pretending not to notice him openly oogling your ass as you continued to fiddle with your stocking and garter, double checking the silver blade holster around your thigh. You had realized early on in your hunting career that pantyhose just weren't practical when it came to hiding holsters and various weapons - stockings were the way to go, and you were thankful you had preferred the ones with a bit of lace at the top, knowing it had caught Dean's eye as well.
"Y/N, quit torturing the boy. And get your shoes off the furniture. Aren't those the ones with the reinforced heel that you use as a makeshift knife?" Bobby's easy drawl scolded you as he wheeled into the room. "And for Heaven's sake, close that fly trap Dean. Don't act like you've never seen a girl before." Dean's mouth was indeed wide open, and he quickly shut it, scowling as he did. You simply smiled and pulled your skirt back down as you firmly planted both feet on the ground, determined more than ever to carry out your plan. "I have no idea what you're talking about Bobby" you said bemusedly. Saying nothing, he simply gave you a look. The older hunter knew you better than that, having taught you everything you knew about hunting, including giving you your start in witchcraft. He may be gruff, but he had a lot of heart, and he cared about people.
Sam’s mouth was agape in awe. "Wait, you reinforced the heel of your shoe to use as a weapon? Damn!" You nodded, slipping off one of the shoes to show him. "And the tip is silver," you said with a grin.
"Maybe you should that with some of yours, Dean," he teased. Dean glared at him, crossing his arms and replied, "Sure Sammy, right after we braid your hair."
"When you two are done with planning out your makeovers, we have a job to do," Bobby scolded, setting a the books that he had riding in his lap onto the table next to Sam.
Turning his attention back to the job, Dean looked at me and said gruffly, "Ready to go Princess?"
Annoyed by the name, you rolled Y/E/C eyes, but didn't say anything, instead choosing to stay focused on the job. "Think so. Do you have the Colt and the demon blade, just in case things go south?" I asked, turning my attention from Bobby to Dean. Every hunter knew those were the Winchesters' weapons of choice, and there was no way you were leaving on a hunt without them.
"Yup. And you're good with whatever witch mumbo jumbo you might need?"
"Always," you said, throwing a flirty smile his way, causing him to grunt and look away in response. Even though you were definitely more comfortable in your ripped jeans and a flannel shirt, you were starting to have fun messing with Dean. If I have to be tortured wearing this crap, I might as well try and get some enjoyment out of it.
"Good. Dean, remember to let Y/N take charge on this one," Bobby instructed. Dean simply grunted again, seemingly unable to speak and his mind obviously otherwise occupied, which caused you to smirk slightly. He gave a curt nod, his eyes narrowing. Not used to taking orders, it was clear he wasn't thrilled with the idea.
Together, you walked out of Bobby's cluttered house, the place you so often called home, your heels clicking with a very satisfying noise as you walked. Your trusty sidekick, Wednesday, a lanky and unidentifiable mixed breed of a dog, paused from sniffing the grass to look up and give a happy bark before trotting in your direction. "Not today kiddo. Another time. Go find Uncle Sammy!" you encouraged, patting her side before she bolted into the house. Sam had grown fond of the mutt in the few days you'd known them, saying it reminded him of a pup named Bones he once knew.
Dean was headed to his car, the gorgeous '67 Impala that he inherited from his father. As much as you wanted to check out how it handled, you knew it would kill him even more to make him ride in your cherry red '69 Pontiac GTO, simply because how could the Dean Winchester go on a hunt without his Baby? And you were in a mood.
Photo credit: allmusclecars.com
You went to your car instead. "Uh, Y/N, car's this way," he said, opening the driver's side and jerking his thumb towards the car. Without missing a beat, you opened the driver's side of your car and slid in. "Yours is. But seeing as I'm in charge of this hunt, we're taking my car." The look on his face was priceless as he slammed the door to his car shut before stalking over to your ride and taking his seat sullenly by your side. You turned on the radio after starting the car, and as if on cue, “One of These Nights” by The Eagles began to play. You laughed a little to yourself. Your heart fluttered a little the not so subtle glances Dean was throwing your way. Taking a hard swallow, you focused your eyes on the road and pulled onto the main highway.
This was shaping up to be quite the day.
Tags: @sis-tafics (I’d love to know what you think!)
