Recently, Dean had developed an obvious, almost puppy-like crush on you. He followed you everywhere, hanging onto your words, always finding excuses to be near you. It was endearing in a way, though he’d never admit to it outright. You were completely aware of the effect you had on him, and though you tried not to tease him too much, sometimes it was hard to resist.

After an exhausting hunt, it was just the two of you heading to the bar. Sam had already retreated to the motel, leaving you and Dean to blow off some steam alone. The neon glow of the bar sign cut through the night as you approached, the soft hum of music and chatter spilling out into the street.

The moment you walked through the door, heads turned. Men’s, women’s—it didn’t seem to matter. All eyes seemed drawn to you, an unspoken ripple of attention following as you made your way across the room. Dean noticed immediately, his posture stiffening as you casually claimed a seat at the bar.

You barely had time to order your drink when Dean slid onto the stool beside you, a little closer than necessary. He shifted awkwardly, glancing around the room with an unmistakable scowl as he muttered under his breath.

Finally, he turned to you, his brows furrowed in exasperation. "Do you not see their looks?" he asked, his voice low but edged with frustration.

You raised an eyebrow, momentarily pausing to look around. Sure enough, a few lingering glances and whispers were directed your way, but you just shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

"They’re just curious," you replied, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Nothing to worry about, Dean."

He huffed, clearly unimpressed by your lack of concern. "Curious my ass," he muttered, his eyes narrowing at a particularly bold guy who had yet to stop staring. "They’re practically undressing you with their eyes."