“Target identified.” Y/n giggled and took another sip of her beer.
“Oh that poor girl. Run!” Sam yelled playfully across the bar.
Dean turned, giving them a dirty look and flipping Sam the bird, before continuing his trajectory.
Sam grinned and put his bottle to his lips, swallowing the rest of his drink. He rose, grimacing slightly from the bruised rib he’d earned earlier in the evening. He tipped his head toward y/n and she nodded, accepting his silent offer of another round.
Y/n watched as the pretty blonde giggled up at Dean, her fingers toying idly with the ends of her hair. Dean grinned, clearly laying the charm on thick. Sam returned a few seconds later, two fresh beers in hand. He set one down and opened the other, tossing the bottle cap on the table as he returned to his seat.
“He’s really got this whole shtick down, doesn’t he,” she mused, draining her beer and opening the new one.
Sam chuckled. “Kinda. He’s not quite the suave ladies man he pretends to be, so when he finds something that works, he rolls with it until it doesn’t anymore.”
This was the sweetest! I enjoyed their betting on dean! The reader really got under Sam’s skin huh? “Can’t dance?” I could see this playing out so well. I could even imagine Dean and that blonde walking past them, Dean mumbling, “about time”.
Ellen's Bar and Tab 