Word Count: 587
The boys had been gone on a hunt for almost a week. You had been cleaning like crazy almost the whole time they were gone.
You had no idea when they would be back and that is why you were wearing only booty shorts and a tank top, dancing around the kitchen making pie blaring Warrant. No point in wearing clothes when you were home alone.
You had made the crust and cherry filling from scratch and had just pulled it out of the oven to cool, a satisfied smile on your face. You set the timer on your phone and made your way back to your room.
You didn’t hear the front door of the bunker open, or the boys come in and go to their rooms. Your headphones made sure of that.
You danced back down the hallway to the kitchen. Stopping in your tracks to find Dean standing in front of your masterpiece, a fork in one hand.
“Don’t touch it!” You squealed ripping your headphones out. Your state of undress forgotten you rushed forward to catch his large wrist in your hand.
“Well hey sweetheart!” Dean laughed looking down at you, his smile growing wider when he caught sight of your black booty shorts with little red cherries.
“Sit! I’ll get you some pie.” You told him pushing him toward the table the best you could. He didn’t make it too far and he came up behind you. He didn’t touch you but you could feel the best from his body through your thin tank.
“Come on, I wouldn’t have ruined it. I know how to eat pie,” he whined quietly in your ear.
“On the contrary,” you smirked, cutting a large slice for him. You dished it onto a plate and looked sideways at him.
“Didn’t think we would be coming home today did you?” he asked reaching around you to trap you between his arms against the counter. He took the fork and cut the tip off his piece slowly bringing it to his mouth.
“Mmm cherry,” he breathed nuzzling your neck.
“Of course,it is your favorite” you answered closing your eyes. He still was hardly touching you.
He took another fork full and it fell off the fork as he raised it to his lips falling to the front of your tank top.
“Guess I don’t know how to eat pie, maybe it’s the cherries.” He chuckled looking down at the front of you.
“If you are over 21 you should know how to properly eat pie, no matter the flavor.” You purred at him. You turned in his arms stepping up to him, bringing your body flush with his causing him to gasp.
“How’s the pie?” You asked pushing on his chest to rotate him so you could pin him against the counter.
“Uh, it’s damn good sweetheart,” he reached for your hips with his free hand.
“Good,” you leaned into the front of him, snaking your arm behind him.
“I can think of a better place to eat it though,” he leaned in to kiss you.
“Hmm, me too,” you breathed against his lips. Just before he came into contact, you pulled away snatching his forgotten fork from his hand.
You stepped back smiling coyly, his plate of pie in one hand, his fork in the other.
“Hey!” He frowned at you.
“You need to learn how to properly eat pie Dean,” you winked at him and strutted out of the kitchen singing ‘Cherry Pie’ very loudly.
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