Oh Boy What a Beer

Dean was pissed.

God dammit if you weren’t the most stubborn, strong-willed, unruly wildcat of a woman he’d ever met. Normally Dean considered that a good thing. You were a kick ass hunter, and had literally and figuratively knocked him off his feet the first time the two of you met. He’d been a love-struck fool, pulling out all the stops to try and win you over, using his best lines, turning up the charm - the whole nine yards. And you’d laughed in his face, giggling at his attempts to hit on you, which had been quite a shock. But somehow the chase was even better, and boy had you given him one. It had taken months of friendship, getting to know you slowly, working through all the walls, all the emotional barriers you had. You were a challenge, a conundrum, but Dean loved every moment of figuring you out.

And when you’d finally opened up to him and everything had fallen into place, he suddenly found that you might just be his saving grace. Your spirit hadn’t changed and you were still feisty as all hell, but you were caring. You had an enormous heart, and you were fiercely loyal. Dean found that you calmed him down, had a settling presence whenever you were around. You were home.

But good god you could be such a pain in the frickin ass.

You were currently mad at him for shamelessly flirting with a witness, and Dean, feeling rather insolent about the whole thing, had defended himself when you brought it up. He’d done it to get information, was just working the case to figure out what was going on.

That apparently hadn’t been a good answer.

After some yelling followed by a slammed door and an evening of sullen silence and angry glares, you, Sam and Dean went out for dinner. Unfortunately for Dean, the local sheriff’s deputy was sitting at the bar, and after he gave you a wide smile, you’d joined him. The two of you were well into your third round of drinks, and you were laughing at something he said, leaning in to rest your hand on his shoulder.

“Oh boy,” Sam muttered around his beer, making Dean’s head snap around.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” his brother said quickly, “It’s just he was checking her ass out this morning at the station.”

“She’s just doing this because of that witness,” Dean grumbled, glaring back over at you. He was sure you could feel his gaze burning into the back of your head, but you didn’t turn.

“Dean I’m sure she’s just trying to get under your skin,” Sam offered.

“Yeah that’s not really helpful, Sammy,” Dean growled, sparing him a glare before turning back to glower at you.

“I’m just saying that you know she isn’t serious. She’s crazy about you, man.”

“That doesn’t look serious to you?” Dean demanded as that goddamn deputy put his hand on your thigh.

“Dean, calm down. She’s trying to get a rise out of you.”

“Well she’s succeeding,” he snarled, tossing back the rest of his whiskey and pushing out of his chair.

“Dean!” Sam called, but Dean wasn’t listening. All he could see was that guy’s hand on your leg, and the rest of his vision had become a blurred red.

“Y/N,” he barked, making you jump slightly and look up, eyes wide and surprisingly guilty. Deputy Douchebag just raised an eyebrow, seemingly unconcerned about the intrusion. “We’re leaving,” Dean informed you. Those words seemed to change something, though, and your gaze hardened.

“I’m having a nice time, Dean,” you said dismissively, beginning to turn back towards the bar.

“Don’t think you understood me, sweetheart,” Dean snapped, grabbing your upper arm, “that wasn’t a suggestion.” He yanked you off the bar stool, making the deputy shoot to his feet.

“Hey, take it easy now,” he said, holding his hands out.

“Don’t start with me, moron,” Dean muttered, pulling you along easily across the bar despite your vehement protests and struggling. Dean was grateful to hear Sam’s voice behind him, calming down the concerned officer, assuring him that he would never hurt you, that everything was just fine. You started yelling as soon as the two of you stepped out into the cool evening air.

“You caveman,” you snarled, “let go of me!”

“Nope,” Dean said calmly, still leading you along through the parking lot.

“I swear to god, Winchester, let go!” You shouted, but Dean ignored you, heading straight for the impala.

“Get in the car,” he commanded.

“Screw you,” you spat, finally yanking your arm free of his hold.

“Excuse me?” Dean asked, his voice dangerously low. You were standing by the passenger door, Dean in front of you with his arms crossed.

“You heard me. Can’t take what you dish out, huh?” You asked with a bitter laugh, turning like you were going to head back towards the building, “Fucking figures-” Dean grabbed you, pushing you up against the car so fast you let out a little squeak of surprise.

“I did not have my hands on that woman, and I certainly didn’t let her feel me up,” he growled right in your ear. He didn’t miss your shaky breath as he pressed his body against yours, pinning you against the impala. “You. Are. Mine,” he breathed, smiling smugly when you shivered. Despite your anger and general dominant attitude, you absolutely fell apart whenever Dean got all authoritative like this, showing a surprising amount of submission.

Dean took advantage of that knowledge, running one hand up into your hair.

“Now you’re going to get in the car and we’re going back to the motel,” he said quietly, lips brushing against your neck as he tugged gently on your hair. Your eyes fluttered shut and you let out a small noise that sounded suspiciously like a moan. “What was that?” Dean demanded sharply, making you drop your head forward onto his chest.

“Yes, god yes, Dean…” you moaned, making Dean’s pulse race.

“Good girl,” he said quietly, planting a kiss on top of your head before opening the door behind you. Surprisingly, you hesitated for a moment, the dangerous glint in your eyes suggesting you might just disobey him. But with one last look, you ducked into the car.


Submitted by @duherica (sorry it took so long!)