Hey Sammy. I've got to talk to you about something
So it's like this alright... You know how I love pie the best?
Yes I know how you love pie the best
Yeah and I always did since I can remember. And if anybody ever even asked me to eat cake-
You'd throw a bitch fit
I'd politely decline. Shut up Sammy I'm talking. Anyway all my life it was pie and not cake.
But imagine that one day this cake came into my life... this really amazing cake. Like it looks like the most delicious thing to sit on a plate - plucked from God's own dessert tray, if you will.
And I'm like "DAMN! I need to eat this cake right now." And it's not like I don't still love pie, right, like pie is still awesome. But this cake looks so good that I might never eat pie again
I can see myself making sweet love to this cake for the rest of my life
Summary: Just like his freckles and bowlegs, Dean’s slight pudge has always been a part of himself that he’s never felt completely comfortable with. After a few miserable days of unsuccessful dieting and choking down rabbit food, Cas reminds him exactly how beautiful he is.
“You’re getting kinda chubby!”
Charlie makes this remark lightly, offhandedly, as she passes by Dean on the way to breakfast that morning: Dean had been stretching his arms overhead in a yawn so that his cotton shirt rode up over his stomach, which Charlie takes the opportunity to poke.
Startled, he looks down just in time to see the disconcerting way in which her fingertip sort of smushes into the soft, freckly flesh.
Dean halts in his tracks, blinking comprehensively. “Wait, what?” is all he can think to say.
Charlie, who’d been nonchalantly continuing on her way down the hall, turns to look at him. “Well, you don’t have to sound so offended about it,” she laughs. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way or anything!”
Dean folds his arms defensively. “Then what did you mean, Charles?”
“First of all, I answer only to Charlie, Ms. Bradbury, or the Illustrious Queen of Moondoor. Next, I just meant you put on a couple pounds. Maybe getting a bit of a tummy. It’s no big deal.”
Dean looks comprehensively down at his stomach. Now that he thinks about it, he has been eating more these days – he’s been going through sort of a “nesting period” during his relationship with Cas: lots of baking pies, burgers, etc. He didn’t think it was noticeable.
Taking note of the gravity of his expression, Charlie laughs, punching him lightly in the shoulder. “You don’t have to look so glum about it! It’s cute.”
Dean glowers at her, tugging self consciously at his t-shirt. “M’not cute,” he mutters grouchily. “I’m a warrior.”
Charlie laughs again. “Alright, warrior. Hurry up and take care of your morning breath – Kevin’s making waffles again!”
With that, Charlie skips off down the hall, leaving Dean to steep in his juices. He lets Charlie laugh it off, of course – he knows she didn’t mean any harm – but the fact is, Dean’s always known he’s had a little bit of pudge around his midsection, and he’s always been the slightest bit insecure about it. Just like his freckles and bowlegs, it’s one of the things about himself that he’s never particularly liked.
His one solace was convincing himself that these features weren’t as noticeable to everyone else as they are to him. Now, that seems to have changed.
Dean pulls up the rim of his shirt, noting sourly the way in which his pudge protrudes slightly over the waistband of his pajama pants.
I like to imagine that today, Cas is looking for pie at every convenience store, because he overheard some humans taking about ‘pie day’, and since Dean loves pie so much, he wanted to help him celebrate. And when Cas appears at the bunker with arms full of different kinds of pie, Dean looks at him curiously and then smiles widely, like a child on Christmas morning or on their birthday. Dean sets the pies on the table, and then gives Cas a big, tight and lingering hug, before doing a little happy dance. And Cas thinks to himself, ‘driving around for hours was worth it.’
Characters/pairing: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester Word count: 2.5k Warnings: swearing, dean’s an adorable and awkward dork, y/n loves teasing him Summary: Dean begs you to bake some pies, but you drag him in with you. A/N: This is for @besslincoln-bruh ‘s Writers Block Challenge 2k17. So damn sorry for the late entry…… My prompt’s bolded in the fic. Beta: The amazing @lonelyangelstardis. Thank you so much, Es!!
“Y/n. Did you get the pie?” I heard Dean yelling across the bunker as I walked towards the kitchen.
“Dude, I don’t know! I made Sam get the food while I bought the rest of our shit.”
“Dammit.” I looked up from the table as Dean came into the kitchen from the library, looking pissed and worried. He rifled through the two plastic bags left on the counter and looked in both the fridge and the shelves before repeating himself. “Dammit. He probably didn’t get it. I forgot to get his stupid salad last time, so he probably didn’t get my pie out of spite.”
I laughed at how distressed he looked.
He spun around to glare at me. “What?”
“You’re so mad about the pie, it’s almost adorable.” I grinned, biting my lip.
“It’s almost adorable,” he repeated, mocking me. “It’s not adorable. It’s not having pie. Again.”
I tried to hide my smirk, and very seriously nodded my head. “Yeah, no… Not adorable at all. Or hilarious. Definitely not hilarious.”