Somewhere only we know
Dean Winchester x Y/N
Warnings: 18+, angst, jealousy, fluff, spicy scene, ...
Side note: English isn’t my first language.
Words: 12690 - Sorry I might have let myself go a bit...
*Does not follow The SPN storyline *
--
Y/N is Bobby’s niece, when she decided to take a break from college, she needed a job and a place to stay. Since she had been around cars her whole live, her uncle provided her a job as mechanic and to handle the papers in his shop. This is where she meets Dean. The son of one of Bobby’s oldest friends and his only employee.
--
Y/N gripped the steering wheel tightly as she cruised down the familiar stretch of highway leading to Sioux Falls. The decision to stop her college program a few months over the summer had weighed heavily on her dad’s mind, but now, with each passing mile marker, a sense of relief washed over her. She was finally taking control of her own destiny.
Her uncle Bobby and aunt Karen's house came into view, nestled in the outskirts of the city. As she parked in the driveway, memories of childhood visits flooded her mind. The smell of Aunt Karen's homemade apple pie, the sound of Uncle Bobby's grumpy comments echoing through the house, it all felt like coming home.
Stepping out of her car, Y/N was greeted with warm hugs and smiles from her relatives. Aunt Karen's eyes twinkled with excitement as she exclaimed, "Y/N, darling, it's so good to see you!” “It’s good to see you too.” She hugged her aunt back.
Uncle Bobby, wasted no time in putting Y/N to work. "Glad you're here, kiddo," he said with a grin. "Got a ton of cars and paperwork in the shop that is need of some TLC. Think you can lend a hand?"
Y/N nodded eagerly, “I would love to help.” grateful for the chance to be useful. She had always admired Uncle Bobby's knack for fixing anything with an engine, and the idea of learning the ropes alongside him excited her. “Oh, come on Bobby, the kid just got here, I think she at least deserves a night rest.” Karen added leading Y/N inside their home.
Bobby took off to work while Y/N and Karen stayed inside. She told her all about collage and how her dad, Karen’s brother reacted to her decision of leaving school. Ever since her mom died, he wanted nothing more than to see his girl succeed in everything she did.
In the meantime, Bobby arrived in the shop.
Bobby unlocked the door to his small car repair shop, the familiar scent of oil and metal greeting him as he stepped inside, he saw Dean was already hard at work, his sleeves rolled up and grease smudged across his cheek.
"Morning, Bobby," Dean greeted with a nod, his hands still busy under the hood of a car.
"Morning, son." Bobby replied with a tired smile. "You're early today.”
“Well, we've got a backlog of cars waiting to be fixed." Dean nodded towards the cars parked outside the shop. “I thought I get a head start, besides it’s you that’s late today, boss.” He smiled.
Bobby paused for a moment, hesitating before he spoke. "Listen, Dean, I know times have been tough lately, that you could use the money. But business hasn't been as good. I can only afford to pay you for six hours a day."
Dean's expression remained unchanged, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "I know, Bobby. I'll make sure to get as much done as I can in those six hours."
Bobby nodded, grateful for Dean's understanding. He knew that times had been hard for both of them, but Dean had always been a loyal and dedicated employee, willing to go above and beyond to keep the shop running smoothly. And since he had no kids of his own, he always pictured handing over the business to Dean one day.
As the day wore on, Bobby and Dean worked side by side, their hands moving with practiced precision as they tackled one car after another. Bobby wiped his hands on a rag, glancing over at Dean with a grin. "Hey, eh, almost forgot, I got some news. We've got some extra help coming in tomorrow."
Dean's brow furrowed in confusion. "Extra help? But you just said you can only pay me for six hours today. How are we affording more help?" Bobby chuckled, understanding Dean's confusion. "Don't worry, kid. It's family."
Dean's eyes widened in surprise. "Family? Who's coming in to help?"
Bobby's grin widened as he leaned against the workbench. "Remember Y/N, my niece? I told you about her before. She’s here for a few months and decided to swing by for a while.
Figured she could lend a hand around here."
Dean's confusion turned to curiosity. "Y/N, huh? And she is going to work on the cars?” “Jup, and paperwork.” Bobby looked at the young man.
“ Is she any good with cars?" Bobby chuckled heartily at Dean's question. "She better be, I taught her everything she knows!"
--
The crisp morning air greeted Y/N as she stepped out of her aunt and uncle's house, the promise of a new day ahead. She decided to take a walk through downtown Sioux Falls, eager to explore her surroundings and clear her mind before diving into her new role at the car repair shop.
Lost in her thoughts, Y/N didn't notice the black Chevy Impala barrelling down the street until it was almost too late. With a gasp, she leaped back just in time to avoid being hit, her heart pounding in her chest as the car screeched to a halt inches away from her.
The driver's side door swung open, revealing with a furrowed brow and a look of irritation on his face. "Hey, watch where you're going!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with frustration.
Y/N's initial shock turned to anger as she glared at the young man. "Me? Watch where I'm going? You're the one driving like a maniac!" His jaw clenched as he stepped out of the car, his own frustration rising. "I wasn't driving like a maniac! You just stepped out into the street without looking!"
He climbed back in the car mumbling “Bitch.” and then took off wheels burning hot.
“JERK!” She yelled after him.
Y/N walked into the shop, her footsteps echoing in the empty space as she glanced around, taking in the familiar sight of the garage. She hadn't been back here since she was a kid. She noticed Dean and Bobby talking.
"Hey, Bobby," Dean said, turning to his boss. "Where's that niece of yours?”
Bobby chuckled, a knowing twinkle in his eye. "Speaking of the devil..."
Y/N approached, her brow furrowing in confusion as she caught the tail end of their conversation. "Uncle.” she kissed his cheek, Dean turned to her, a boyish smile on his face. "Well, well, well, look who decided to show up. You must be Bobby's niece."
Y/N's eyes widened in realization as she finally connected the dots. "Wait, you're the guy from this morning! The one who almost ran me over!" Dean winced, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly looking at Bobby. "Yeah, sorry about that. Sweetheart."
Bobby chuckled, stepping in to diffuse the tension. "Well, good that you two have met properly, let's get down to business. Y/N, this is Dean, my star mechanic. Dean, this is my niece, Y/N."
Dean, ever the charmer, flashed her a grin and leaned in slightly. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes? Looks like this shop just got a whole lot more interesting." While Y/N rolled her eyes Bobby interfered, "Watch yourself, Casanova, she is still my family.”
Dean laughed, shrugging nonchalantly walking back to the car he was working on. "Hey, can't blame a guy for trying."
She turned to her uncle Bobby. "Is he always like this?"
Bobby shook his head. "Oh, you bet. Dean has always had a weakness for the ladies. But don't let that fool you. When it comes to his work, he's as loyal as they come." Y/N nodded, eyes still on Dean’s back. "Well, I guess as long as he gets the job done.”
Bobby looks at her with a weird looking face.
Y/N's cheeks flushed slightly as she realized the unintended implication of her words. She quickly clarified, her voice tinged with embarrassment. "Oh, uh, I meant the cars, Uncle. I meant as long as he gets the job done with fixing the cars."
Bobby chuckled, understanding dawning in his eyes as he nodded. "Gotcha.”
--
“Well, kids I got to go, I have an appointment with the bank, don’t burn the place down while I’m gone, ok.”
The shop fell into a brief silence. Y/N focused on her task, the rhythmic clinking of tools filling the air as she worked on a particularly stubborn engine. Unbeknownst to her, Dean approached stealthily from behind, his curiosity getting the better of him.
With a mischievous grin, he leaned in close, startling Y/N as he spoke up suddenly.
“Need a hand sweety?” Y/N jumped at the unexpected interruption, whirling around to face Dean with wide eyes. "Dean! Don't sneak up on me like that," she scolded, her heart still racing from the surprise.
Dean held up his hands in mock surrender, a playful smirk on his lips. “Seriously need a hand?” Her eyes narrowed “No thanks, I got it,” she said before turning back to the car.
“So, what's your story? Why are you here?" He asked checking her out, whipping his hands on a rag. Y/N hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by Dean's sudden interrogation. She met his gaze, she saw genuine curiosity and warmth in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, she decided to open up.
"Well, I just... needed a change of scenery," she admitted, her voice softening with vulnerability. "Uncle Bobby and Aunt Karen offered for me to stay here for a while, and Bobby mentioned he could use an extra pair of hands at the shop. So, here I am."
“Here you are.” he echoed flirty. "Well, I'm glad you're here. We could use all the help we can get around here, and it doesn’t hurt a change of... scenery." he said with a grin, reaching out to give her a friendly pat on the shoulder.
--
The days turned into weeks.
Their work in the shop came to an end, Dean turned to Y/N. "So, Y/N, any plans for after work?" Y/N shrugged. "Not really. Just planning on heading home and relaxing."
Dean's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned against a nearby workbench. "Well, how about I change those plans? How about a little tour of the town? I'll show you all the best spots."
Y/N hesitated, caught off guard by the invitation.” Thanks, but I think I'll pass. Good night, Dean.”
Y/N sat at the dinner table, her mind still buzzing from the events of the day at the shop. The clang of tools, the smell of grease, it was all still fresh in her mind as she tried to unwind in the comfort of her aunt and uncle's home.
So, when Dean showed up at the door after work, she was taken aback. She hadn't expected to see him again so soon, especially not at her aunt and uncle's house.
Karen, ever the gracious host, welcomed Dean with open arms, "Dean, darling, I’m so glad you could come! Come, come, sit down. Have a beer. Dinner will be ready in just a moment."
Y/N watched in disbelief as Dean settled into a seat at the table, his easy smile making him seem right at home. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Dean's sudden appearance at dinner than met the eye.
Turning to Bobby with a quizzical expression, she voiced her suspicions.
"Why do I get the feeling I'm being set up?" she asked, her tone a mixture of amusement and apprehension. Bobby chuckled, a knowing glint in his eye as he exchanged a glance with his wife Karen. "Well, you're not wrong, kiddo," he admitted, a sheepish smile playing on his lips.
"Karen thought it might be nice for you to have some friends your own age around here." Y/N's eyebrows shot up in surprise as she glanced over at Karen, who was beaming at her with motherly affection.
Karen nodded, her smile widening. Y/N watched as Karen offered Dean a slice of pie with a warm smile, her heart softening at the sight of their easy rapport. Dean's eyes widened in delight at the mention of pie, unable to resist Karen's irresistible offer.
"How can I say no to that?" he exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face as he eagerly accepted the slice. As Y/N observed the exchange between Dean and Karen, turning to her uncle Bobby with a sigh, she couldn't help but voice her thoughts. "You know, I don't like Dean that much right?”
Bobby nodded in understanding, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "I figured as much," he replied gently. "But you know Karen, once she sets her mind to something, there's no stopping her."
As the dinner plates were cleared away, Y/N and Dean offered to help with the dishes, but Karen waved them off with a smile.
"Oh, don't you worry about that, dears. You two go have some fun," Karen insisted, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Dean, why don't you take Y/N into town? Show her around a bit. You can't spend all your time cooped up in the shop, after all."
Dean's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the suggestion. "Sounds like a plan, Karen.” “Aunty, I-I don’t know I’m pretty tired. ”Y/N tries to back away. But Karen couldn't resist the opportunity to play matchmaker. "You know, Dean drives a '67 Chevy Impala,"
Y/N’s chuckles, “I know, I’ve seen it up close.” referring to the almost accident. "And did you know, Dean, that Y/N has a thing for classic cars?" Karen continued. Dean's eyes widened in surprise, a grin spreading across his face. "Is that so? Well, then, I guess we'll have plenty to talk about on the drive into town." He held the back door open.
Y/N sighed softly as she slipped on her leather jacket, a faint sense of reluctance tugging at her. "You know, we really don't need to go," she murmured, glancing at Dean. "You can drop me off at a bar and go home if you want to."
But Dean shook his head with a reassuring smile. "Na-ah, come on. I know just the place for us to go," he said, his tone confident as he gestured for her to follow him outside.
As Dean pulled up to the roadhouse, Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the bikes and cars parked outside. She couldn't help but feel a surge of relief that Dean hadn't taken her to a fancy place, especially since she was dressed in jeans and an old shirt.
"Nice choice," she remarked, a hint of appreciation in her voice as she glanced at Dean. Who grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I figured you might appreciate something a little more laid-back."
Y/N smiled, grateful for Dean's consideration as they made their way inside. The atmosphere was lively and inviting, the sound of laughter and music filling the air as they found a table near the bar.
Ellen, stood behind the bar with a knowing smile. Her eyes flickered with amusement as she took in Dean's presence, yet another girl by his side. However, she didn't say much, merely offering a friendly nod before moving on to tend to other customers.
Dean excused himself to buy the first round of drinks, leaving Y/N alone for a moment. From across the room, she observed how he greeted Ellen with familiarity, a warm smile spreading across his face as they exchanged a few words. It was clear to Y/N that Dean was a regular here.
As Dean returned to the table with their beers in hand, Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity about his life outside of the shop. There was more to Dean than met the eye, she realized, and she found herself eager to learn more about the man behind the charming exterior.
As Y/N and Dean raised their glasses in a toast, the cheerful atmosphere was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of Jo, Ellen's daughter. Y/N couldn't help but notice the tense expression on Jo's face as she approached their table, her jealousy palpable in the air.
"Hey, Dean," Jo began, her voice laced with a hint of bitterness. "Who's this?" Her eyes flickered over to Y/N, assessing her with thinly veiled suspicion.
Y/N felt a flush of discomfort creep up her neck as she met Jo's gaze, unsure of how to respond to the sudden interrogation. "Uh, hi. I'm Y/N," she introduced herself tentatively, trying to keep her voice steady despite the unexpected confrontation.
But before she could say anything else, Jo's jealousy seemed to spill over, her words tumbling out in a rush. "You're the fourth girl this week," she accused, her tone sharp with resentment. "After Stacy, Annie, and Stephanie. What's so special about you Dean?"
“I don’t know sweetheart, go ask your diary.” He smiles before taking a sip. As Jo walked away, her upset demeanour leaving a palpable tension in the air, "Is she... an ex-girlfriend?" Y/N inquired softly, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.
Dean's eyes widened in shock at the suggestion, a surprised chuckle escaping him. "What? No, definitely not," he replied hastily, shaking his head vehemently. "She's way too young for my liking. She’s still in high school."
She hadn't expected Jo to be so young, and the realization only deepened her sympathy for the girl caught up in her feelings for Dean. "Oh," was all Y/N could manage to say.
As the evening wore on and a few more beers were consumed, Y/N couldn't help but notice Dean's easy charm seemed to intensify, his jokes becoming more playful and his smiles more frequent. It was clear that the alcohol was loosening his inhibitions, and Y/N found herself the target of his flirtatious banter.
Dean leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he spoke. "You know, Y/N, I have to say, you're even more beautiful than I realized."
Y/N couldn't help but laugh at his boldness, feeling a flush of warmth spreading across her cheeks. "Smooth talker, aren't you?" Dean grinned, a twinkle in his eye. "Only when I'm around someone as captivating as you."
Y/N couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in her chest at Dean's words. There was something undeniably charming about him, something that drew her in despite her best efforts to resist.
Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at Dean's persistence, shaking her head with a teasing smile. "You know, Dean, as charming as you are, you still won't stand a chance with me."
Dean raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, really? And why is that?" Y/N leaned back in her seat, her expression mock-serious. "Because I have impossibly high standards," she replied with a wink. "And I'm not about to settle for just anyone."
Dean's grin widened at her response, a hint of challenge in his eyes. "Fair enough. But wait, if you're so picky, then where's your boyfriend?"
Y/N's smile faltered slightly at the mention of a boyfriend, her mind racing to come up with a response. "Uh, well, you see... I don't actually have one," she admitted sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck. "I guess I just haven't found the right guy yet."
Dean's expression softened as he reached out to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You're a catch, Y/N. Any guy would be lucky to have you." They locked eyes, feeling a moment of quiet intimacy.
As Dean's hand gently enveloped hers, a rush of warmth surged through Y/N's veins, sending a flurry of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She couldn't help but be acutely aware of the contact, the sensation of his skin against hers sending shivers down her spine.
Feeling a sudden need to break the intimate connection between them, Y/N gently withdrew her hand from Dean's, a subtle shift in the atmosphere as she did so. Clearing her throat, she forced herself to focus on something else, anything else, to distract from the moment they had shared.
"So, Dean," she began, her voice slightly more subdued than before, "how many girlfriends have you had, anyway?" Dean blinked in surprise at the sudden change in topic, his expression momentarily caught off guard. "Uh, well, not as many as you might think," he replied, his tone casual as he tried to play it off.
"Jo was just... just joking that's all." He took another nervous sip of his beer. "I see," she murmured, her voice carefully neutral. "Well, I suppose we've all had our fair share of... acquaintances."
Dean’s eyes grew wide. “So, you’re saying...” She waited for him to continue.” I mean, you’re into one nights and stuff?” She laughs soft, “Don’t tell me you’re not? I mean...” Leaning in slightly, she met his gaze with a teasing twinkle of her own.
"Well, I suppose I'm just wondering how a smooth-talking Casanova like yourself manages to stay single for so long... " Dean chuckled, a roguish grin spreading across his face as he leaned in closer. "Ah, but maybe I've just been waiting for the right person to come along," he countered, his voice low and conspiratorial.
In that moment, as he watched her, Dean's thoughts raced a mile a minute. He couldn't deny the magnetic pull he felt towards Y/N, the way her laughter made his heart race and his pulse quicken. She was like a breath of fresh air, a ray of sunshine in his otherwise mundane existence, and he couldn't help but be drawn to her magnetic energy.
--
As Dean moved to close the tap, Ellen's voice cut through the buzz of conversation in the roadhouse. "Dean," she called out, her tone warm and affectionate, "she's a keeper, you know."
Dean paused mid-motion, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks at Ellen's words. He waved her comment away with a sheepish grin, trying to play it cool. "Ah, come on, Ellen. You know me, I don’t do relationships" he replied casually, though his heart was pounding in his chest.
But Ellen wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily. With a knowing smile, she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I've been running this roadhouse for a long time, Dean. And I've never seen you so invested in a date you brought in here."
Thanks, Ellen," he murmured, his voice genuine as he met her gaze while placing the money on the bar. she replied with a wink. "Just don't let her slip away, alright?"
As Dean opened the door for her, Y/N couldn't help but offer a playful remark about his gentlemanly behaviour. "Well, aren't you just the epitome of chivalry," she teased, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she climbed into the car.
The drive home was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the silence between them. Dean stole glances at Y/N whenever he thought she wasn't looking, his heart skipping a beat each time the streetlights illuminated her features.
There was something undeniably captivating about the way the light danced across her face, casting shadows and highlights in all the right places. And as Dean's eyes lingered on Y/N, a surge of arousal coursed through him at the tantalizing idea of the two of them spending the night together in his car.
With a shaky breath, Dean tore his gaze away from Y/N, focusing instead on the road ahead. He couldn't afford to let his mind wander down that path. Bobby would kill him.
But as they pulled up to Y/N's house Dean helped her out of the car, he couldn't shake the lingering sensation of arousal that filled the air between them. Unable to resist the magnetic pull between them any longer, he gently pushed Y/N back against the car, his hands pressing against the metal surface as he leaned in closer.
Y/N gasped softly as she felt herself being pinned between Dean and the Impala, the heat of his body radiating against hers. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of anticipation and nervous excitement coursing through her veins.
Dean's breath was warm against her skin as he hovered inches away from her, his eyes dark with desire as they locked with hers. There was a raw intensity in his gaze, a silent invitation that sent shivers down Y/N's spine.
And as Dean leaned in closer, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to hers, Y/N couldn't help but lean forward, her own desire mirroring his. Dean’s voice warm and deep as he spoke.
"I really enjoyed your company tonight," he murmured, his words filled with sincerity and longing. "I was hoping... maybe we could do this again sometime.”
"I'd like that," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she met Dean's gaze his lips brushed against hers, a jolt of electricity shot through Y/N, sending shivers down her spine. It was a gentle touch, tentative yet filled with a simmering intensity that left no room for doubt, this was no longer innocent flirting.
“Bobby has probably heard the engine a few minutes ago.” Dean whispers before giving her space. With one last lingering glance, Y/N reluctantly stepped away from Dean.
“You’re right, see you tomorrow?” She asks while passing him by. "Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, Sweetheart" he called out after her, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and anticipation.
Dean turned back towards the Impala, a flicker of excitement stirring in his chest.
--
Dean opened the shop as usual, but he saw Y/N standing in the shop, lights turned low. A few soft lights illuminating her figure. But it wasn't just any ordinary scene. He heard the soft rock music playing in the background.
... I've been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life...
Y/N was clad in lace lingerie, the delicate fabric clinging to her curves in all the right places, accentuating every contour of her body. Her hair cascaded in loose waves down her back.
... I've been waiting for a girl like you, you're a love that will survive...
Her hands deftly manoeuvring under the hood of his car. But it wasn't the car that captured Dean's attention, it was the way Y/N moved, the way her body swayed with each graceful motion, a mesmerizing dance of strength and beauty.
... I've been waiting for someone new to make me feel alive...
As Dean watched, his pulse quickened and his breath caught in his throat, a surge of desire coursing through him at the sight of Y/N in her lace lingerie, her skin bathed in the warm glow of the workshop lights. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her.
... Yeah, waiting for a girl like you to come into my life...
Y/N noticed Dean's intense gaze, a sly smile played on her lips. With a confident sway of her hips, she closed the hood of the impala then perched herself on top of it, her legs dangling over the edge as she leaned back against the warm metal.
"Come closer, Dean," she purred, her voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine. Her eyes danced with mischief as she beckoned him with a curl of her finger, a silent invitation for him to join her.
Unable to resist her allure, Dean took a hesitant step forward, his heart pounding in his chest at the sight of Y/N before him. She was a vision of temptation, her lace lingerie leaving little to the imagination as it clung to her curves.
As he drew nearer, Y/N reached out to him, her fingers trailing teasingly along his chest before coming to rest on his shoulders. With a gentle tug, she pulled him closer until he stood directly before her, their bodies almost touching, the heat of their proximity igniting a fire within them both.
As Dean's hands moved over Y/N's thighs, a shiver of anticipation ran down his spine. With a soft moan escaping her lips, Y/N parted her legs slightly, inviting Dean to stand in between them.
Dean stepped in between her legs, Y/N felt a surge of desire building within her, a primal need to be closer to him, to feel his body pressed against hers, his touch was intoxicating, his fingers tracing delicate patterns against her skin as he drew closer, the heat of his body radiating against hers.
With a longing sigh, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them. As Dean felt Y/N's legs closing around his hips, a surge of desire swept through him, his heart pounding with the intensity of their connection. With a low growl of longing, he leaned in to capture her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue pressing eagerly against hers as they melted into each other's embrace.
But just as their passion reached a peak, Dean was suddenly jolted awake by his alarm, his eyes flying open as he gasped for breath. Blinking in confusion, he found himself lying in bed, the remnants of his dream still swirling through his mind like wisps of smoke.
As the reality of his surroundings sank in, Dean couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at the abrupt end to his passionate encounter with Y/N. It had felt so real, so vivid and yet, it had all been nothing more than a dream.
With a sigh, Dean rubbed a hand over his face, trying to shake off the lingering effects of sleep. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to erase the memory of Y/N's touch, the taste of her lips still lingering on his tongue.
--
As Dean rushed into the garage, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nerves, he couldn't help but feel a surge of flustered anticipation at the sight of Y/N standing in the same spot as he had dreamed about.
She looked effortlessly cool in her old band shirt and overall knotted around her waist, her hair in a messy bun.
"Hey, sorry I'm late," Dean blurted out, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he tried to regain his composure. "I... uh, overslept." “Overslept, huh?" Bobby teased “Is that the name of girl that kept you awake this time.” He rolled his eyes at Y/N.
"Well, lucky for you, I haven't gotten much done yet." She winked at him.
As Dean approached her, he couldn't help but feel a sense of deja vu wash over him, it was almost as if he had stepped straight into his dream from the night before. But instead of feeling nervous or apprehensive, he felt a strange sense of comfort.
With a shaky breath, Dean cleared his throat, trying to shake off the lingering effects of his dream. "So, uh, what's on the agenda for today?" he asked leaning in against the truck she was working on, eager to distract himself from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.
Y/N flashed him a smile, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Well, first things first – we've got a lot of cars to fix," she replied quiet so Bobby wouldn’t hear her tone flirty. "And then... who knows? Maybe we'll have a little fun along the way."
As Dean's eyes widened at Y/N's playful comment, a surge of excitement coursed through him, his heart racing with anticipation. A sly grin spread across Dean's lips as he met Y/N's gaze, his own eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, is that a promise, sweetheart?" he teased, his voice laced with playful innuendo.
Y/N's smile widened at his response, her laughter echoing through the garage as she winked at him. "You'll just have to wait and see," she replied coyly, her tone filled with tantalizing suggestion.
With a playful twinkle in his eye, Dean rolled up his sleeves interrupted by Bobby's voice calling out to him from across the garage. "Dean, stop flirting, there is a phone call for you," Bobby said, his tone curt as he held out the receiver. "It's your mom."
Dean's heart skipped a beat at the mention of his mother, a pang of anxiety gripping him as he took the phone from Bobby. His mind raced with questions and concerns, had something happened? Was everything alright?
With a murmured "Thanks, Bobby," Dean brought the phone to his ear, his stomach churning with apprehension. "Mom?" he said tentatively, his voice tinged with worry.
Y/N glanced at Bobby, a look of concern furrowing her brow, ”Why is he acting so weird answering his mom?” Bobby sighed, his expression somber as he leaned against a nearby workbench.
"Dean's dad, passed away a few years back," he explained, his tone heavy with emotion. "Ever since then, he's been... different. Doesn't talk much about it, but I know he nearly never visits her or his brother.”
Y/N's heart sank at Bobby's words, a pang of sadness washing over her as she knew what Dean must have been through. Losing a parent was never easy. "I had no idea," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked back at Dean, who was focused intently on his work.
After another day of working Bobby asked Dean to come to dinner, just like had done almost every night.
As Y/N passed by the doorway, she couldn't help but overhear the hushed conversation between Dean and Bobby. Their voices carried through the air, tinged with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.
"What did Mary want?" Bobby asked, "she, uh, she wanted to tell me that Sammy, eh, he's graduated from law school," he explained, his voice soft. "She wants me home for a surprise dinner next week."
Bobby's eyes widened in surprise at the news, a smile spreading across his face. "Well, that's great news!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "I bet your mom's thrilled."
Dean nodded, a hint of emotion flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, she's really excited," he admitted, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "It's been a while since we've all been together."
“But I told her I could come. I’m not in the mood.” Bobby frowned, his brow furrowing with concern as he looked at Dean. "Are you sure about that, son?" She sees Dean nodding. “I’m the disappointment of the family. All they will do is tell me how great Sammy turned out with Jess and his degree and how poorly I did.”
With a heavy heart Y/N turned back to the kitchen. ”I’ll take over aunty.” she said grabbing the dishes. A little later Dean moved beside her. “Let me help”, while taking the towel.
As Y/N and Dean stood side by side, washing the dishes a comfortable silence enveloped them. Y/N glanced over at Dean, a small smile playing on her lips as she appreciated his help.
Meanwhile, Karen and Bobby sat on the couch, "I see the two of them blooming," Karen said, her voice filled with warmth and affection. Bobby shook his head. "I'm not so sure," he replied, his tone cautious. "Y/N's a good kid, but I'm not convinced she's into Dean like that."
"No, no, he is growing on her, I can tell," Karen said, her voice filled with conviction. Bobby raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by Karen's observation. "And why do you think that?" he asked.
Karen leaned back against the couch, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Well, for one thing, they aren't fighting," she explained, her voice thoughtful. "And the way he moves around her... there's something different about it."
"You're right, they aren't fighting anymore like they used to," he conceded, his voice tinged with a hint of agreement. "But I still don't see any romance between them."
Just as Bobby and Karen looked away, the sound of Y/N’s voice filled the room, “DEAN!!”. drawing their attention back to them. Seeing how he splashed her with water.
They watched in amusement as the playful banter, they playfully sparred with each other. Dean swung a dish towel in Y/N's direction, earning a playful squeal from her as she dodged his attack. In retaliation, Y/N reached for a nearby dishcloth and flicked it in Dean's direction, causing him to grin mischievously as he deftly avoided the incoming splash.
Karen gave Bobby an all-knowing look. “Told you.” she said before leaning back.
--
As Y/N walked Dean outside to his car, she couldn't shake the conversation he had with Bobby earlier. But as they reached Dean's car and he leaned against it, pulling her in closer. Y/N felt a surge of surprise wash over her. It was rare for Dean to hold her this close without a few drinks in him, and the unexpected intimacy caught her off guard.
"Dean..." Y/N began, her voice trailing off as she searched for the right words to say. But before she could speak, Dean leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin as he pressed his forehead to hers.
"You know... It’s been a while since we spend time together outside of work or here at bobby’s.” He started. Y/N couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in her chest.
With a playful grin, Y/N teased him, "Are you asking me out on an official date, Dean?"
Dean's response caught her off guard, his words laced with a hint of vulnerability that tugged at her heartstrings. "What if I am?" he replied, his gaze steady as he met her eyes.
As Y/N asked Dean where they were going, suggesting the roadhouse, Dean's eyes sparkled with mischief as he considered her suggestion. With a gentle smile, he shook his head.
"Nah, you deserve something more than that, sweetheart." he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "Something fancy, something romantic with candlelight." A soft smile graced her lips as she met Dean's gaze, her eyes shining with appreciation. "That sounds absolutely lovely," she murmured.
Dean brushed a hair out of her face. “How’s Saturday?” With a warm smile, she nodded eagerly. "Saturday sounds perfect," she replied, her voice filled with excitement. "I can't wait." Dean's eyes lit up with a smile of his own, mirroring her enthusiasm as they shared a moment of shared anticipation.
With Saturday on the horizon.
As Y/N stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the straps of her red cocktail dress and slipping on her high heels, she couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in her chest. Tonight was the night, the fancy, romantic evening out with Dean that she had been eagerly anticipating.
Just as she was about to finish getting ready, Y/N heard Karen's voice behind her, filled with warmth and affection. "Need some help with your hair, dear?" Karen asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Y/N turned to see Karen standing there with a brush and a handful of bobby pins, a knowing smile on her lips. With a grateful nod, Y/N settled into the chair, allowing Karen to work her magic on her hair.
As Karen deftly pinned Y/N's hair up into an elegant style, she couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and familiarity wash over her. Karen had always been like a second mother to her, and she cherished these moments.
"You know, Dean is talking to Bobby right now," Karen said casually, her tone filled with amusement. "Bobby's giving him 'the talk,' like he's your father or something."
Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief at Karen's revelation, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the thought of Bobby giving Dean advice about relationships.
She couldn't help but feel a mixture of amusement and mortification at that thought.
"You know, Dean is a good boy," Karen said, her voice filled with warmth. "Sure, he's had his flirtatious moments, and he's had a few girlfriends, but he seems to change."
Y/N listened intently to Karen's words, her heart swelling with gratitude for the older woman's wisdom and insight. Despite any reservations she may have had about Dean's past, Karen's reassurances helped to ease her mind and set her at ease.
"Thank you, Karen," Y/N said softly, her voice tinged with appreciation. "I appreciate you saying that. It means a lot."
Karen smiled warmly at Y/N's words, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Of course, dear," she replied, her tone gentle. "Just remember, sometimes people surprise us in the best ways. And I have a feeling Dean might just be one of those people."
As Y/N descended the stairs, her heart pounding with excitement, she couldn't help but notice the way Dean and Bobby's eyes widened in awe as they caught sight of her. It was as if she had stepped straight out of a scene from a 90s teen movie.
All eyes on her as she made her grand entrance. Dean's jaw dropped slightly, his gaze lingering on her figure as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. Bobby's expression mirrored Dean's.
Dean found his voice, his words coming out in a soft whisper. "Wow," he breathed, his eyes shining with appreciation. "You look amazing, Y/N." Y/N felt her cheeks flush with warmth at Dean's compliment, a smile spreading across her lips.
Y/N nodded eagerly as Dean asked if she was ready. Taking her hand in his, Dean led her out to his car, the anticipation of the evening ahead filling the air with a palpable energy.
--
Y/N's eyes widened with delight as she took in the cozy ambiance and the soothing strains of jazz music drifting through the air. The scent of delicious tapas filled her senses, making her mouth water with anticipation.
As they settled into their seats, the warm glow of candlelight casting a soft halo around them, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the chance to share this special moment with Dean. With each passing moment, she felt her bond with him growing stronger, deepening their connection in ways she never thought possible.
As Dean took Y/N's hand in his, a thrill shot through her at the touch of his warm skin against hers. His gentle caress sent shivers down her spine “You look really beautiful tonight.”
“So do you handsome.” she smiles.
With a furrowed brow, Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of concern as she turned to Dean, her voice gentle as she asked why he didn't want to go home. But Dean's response was guarded, his eyes clouded with a hint of sadness as he shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N felt a surge of empathy wash over her as she looked at Dean, recognizing the pain that lurked behind his words. She knew better than to press him for answers, understanding that some wounds ran too deep to be easily healed.
Instead, she gently squeezed his hand, offering him a silent gesture of support and understanding. In that moment, surrounded by the comforting embrace of the jazz bar and the soft strains of music drifting through the air.
As Y/N observed Dean she couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't his usual scene. Sensing his discomfort, she gently suggested, "Hey, do you want to go somewhere else?" Dean looked up at her, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips as he nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that sounds good," he replied, his with gratitude.
They arrived at the roadhouse, the sight of the familiar building bringing a sense of warmth to Y/N's heart. As they stepped inside, the cozy ambiance and the welcoming smile of Ellen greeted them.
As Dean made his way to the bar after ensuring Y/N was comfortably seated at their table, he couldn't help but notice the warm smile that lit up Ellen's face as she greeted him.
Her eyes sparkled with admiration as she took in Y/N's appearance, She looks amazing." "She does, doesn't she?" Dean replied, a hint of pride in his voice as he spoke of Y/N. Ellen nodded in agreement, her smile widening as she poured him a drink.
As the evening progressed and the drinks flowed, Y/N and Dean found themselves growing increasingly relaxed in each other's company. Y/N felt a playful impulse take hold of her. With a mischievous grin, she slipped off one of her heels, her bare foot finding its way to rest against Dean's leg.
Dean looked down at her foot with a smirk, his eyes dancing with amusement as he felt the soft pressure of her foot against his knee. Without missing a beat, he reached down and gently ran his fingers along the curve of her ankle, his touch sending a shiver of delight coursing through her.
Feeling Dean's gentle fingers as he began to massage her foot, Y/N couldn't help but let out a soft sigh of pleasure, her eyes fluttering, Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal coursing through her veins.
The sensation of his touch against her skin sent shivers of delight dancing along her spine, igniting a fire of desire deep within her. Biting her lip to stifle a moan, Y/N felt her heart race with anticipation.
As Jo approached their table to say hello, Dean quickly withdrew his hands, a flicker of discomfort crossing his features as he shifted his focus to their unexpected guest. With a polite smile, he exchanged pleasantries with Jo, his attention momentarily diverted from Y/N.
But as Jo made her exit and Dean returned his gaze to Y/N, he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement rush through him at the sight of her foot inching further up his thigh. His eyes widened in surprise as he felt the undeniable bulge growing in his pants, a silent testament to the effect she had on him.
Dean couldn't suppress a subtle gasp of arousal, his heart pounding in his chest as he glanced over at Y/N, his eyes dark with desire. In that moment, the air between them crackled with tension, thick with unspoken longing and desire.
As Dean rose from their table to pay the tab, he couldn't ignore the undeniable bulge in his pants, a clear indication of the desire that burned fiercely within him. With a subtle shift, he attempted to discreetly reposition himself.
Leaning in close to Y/N as he whispered softly in her ear, his voice low and husky with longing. His breath warm against her skin. "I want you so much. I don't think I can wait until we get home."
Y/N got up and reached out to him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him close, her lips finding his in a fierce, passionate kiss. “Then let’s get out of here.”
On their way home.
As Y/N's hands roamed eagerly over Dean's thighs, tracing the outline of his bulge through his pants, Dean couldn't help but let out a low groan of pleasure. Her touch sent electric jolts of desire coursing through him.
Feeling her lips press against his neck in a trail of soft, lingering kisses, Dean felt his control slipping away turning the wheel and placing the car on the side of the road before he surrendered himself to the intoxicating sensation of her touch.
With a gasp of pleasure, he leaned into her, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer, his lips seeking out hers in a fierce, hungry kiss. Their passion reached a fever pitch as Dean's hand slipped beneath the hem of Y/N's dress, his fingers trailing along the soft curve of her thigh before moving higher, teasing her.
As Dean's fingers traced the delicate lace between Y/N's legs, a shiver of anticipation ran down her spine, her breath catching in her throat at the electrifying touch. Dean's mind wandered back to his dream, the memory fuelling the fire of his passion as he hovered above her in the backseat of the car.
With each caress, he felt the heat building between them, the intensity of their desire reaching new heights with every touch. Y/N's soft moans filled the air, driving him wild with longing.
As Y/N's desperate pleas filled the air, Dean felt a surge of primal desire coursing through him, igniting a fire of passion that burned hotter with each passing moment. With a hungry growl, he gave in to the intoxicating allure of her pleas, his fingers finding their way to the source of her desire.
With a slow, deliberate motion, Dean's fingers entered Y/N, plunging deep into her depths as she arched beneath him, as Y/N's cries of pleasure filled the air, Dean felt a surge of triumph wash over him, knowing that he was the one who had brought her to such heights of ecstasy.
With each thrust of his fingers, he drove her closer and closer to the edge, until she was teetering on the brink of release, her body trembling with anticipation. After her high she pushed Dean back.
And skilfully unzipped his pants, a rush of excitement coursed through him at the unexpected turn of events. He watched in stunned silence as she took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around him with a tantalizing warmth that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins.
Caught off guard by the intensity of sensation, Dean couldn't help but let out a low groan of pleasure as Y/N's tongue worked its magic on him, his head falling back. With each stroke, she drove him wild, her tongue working wonders as she took him deeper and deeper into her mouth.
Lost in the throes of ecstasy, Dean reached out to caress Y/N's hair, his fingers tangling in the silky strands as he guided her movements with gentle precision. The sensation of her mouth on him was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, sending waves of pleasure crashing over him with every flick of her tongue.
With each passing moment, the intensity of their passion grew, until Dean felt himself teetering on the brink of release, he knew he needed to slow things down before it was too late. With a desperate plea, he asked Y/N to stop, his voice thick with desire as he fought to regain control.
Feeling Y/N's lips reluctantly release him, Dean pulled her onto his lap, their bodies pressed together in a fiery embrace. With a primal growl of need, she began to grind against him.
And then, with a swift movement, Dean guided his dick to her soaking wet core. Feeling her stretching to accommodate him as he entered her with a slow, deliberate thrust. As he filled her completely, they both gasped in unison, their bodies trembling with the intensity of their shared pleasure.
Lost in the throes of passion, Dean and Y/N moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies moving as one as they surrendered themselves to the ecstasy of the moment.
As Dean's lips found their way to Y/N's breast, her breath caught in her throat at the delicious sensation of his mouth on her skin. With a soft moan of pleasure, she arched her back, offering herself to him as he teased her nipple with his tongue.
Y/N's fingers tangled in Dean's hair, urging him closer as she surrendered herself to the intoxicating sensation of his mouth on her skin. With each flick of his tongue, she felt herself growing more and more aroused, her body trembling with desire as he lavished attention on her sensitive flesh.
With a gentle suckle, Dean drew her nipple into his mouth, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her veins as he suckled and nipped. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and Y/N found herself gasping for breath.
As Dean felt Y/N tightening around him, signalling her release, he knew that he was on the brink of his own climax. With a primal groan of pleasure, he guided her hips, urging her to bounce up and down over his throbbing shaft, with increasing urgency.
And then, with a final, desperate cry, Y/N shattered into a million pieces, her pleasure cascading over her like a tidal wave as she rode the waves of ecstasy to the peak of her pleasure. In that moment, there was no room for anything else there was only the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that consumed them both.
As Dean pulled Y/N close to him, their bodies lying down, entwined in the intimate space of the back seat, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling of doubt that lingered in the back of his mind. With a heavy sigh, he turned to her, his eyes searching hers for reassurance.
"Do you think I'm making a mistake by not going home for Sam's party?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. Y/N gazed at him with a soft, understanding expression, her fingers gently tracing patterns of comfort along his chest. "Dean, only you can answer that," she replied gently. "But if I were you, I would go home.”
After a moment of contemplative silence, "Hey, uh... would you... want to come with me?” Y/N looked at him, her eyes soft with affection as she reached out to gently caress his cheek. "Of course, Dean," she replied with a warm smile. "I'd love to."
As relief flooded over him, Dean felt a weight lift from his shoulders, knowing that he wouldn't have to face his family alone. Dean leaned in to press his lips against Y/N's.
As Dean's nerves prickled at the thought of introducing Y/N to his mother, he felt a surge of uncertainty wash over him. With a deep breath, he reached for his phone, steeling himself for the conversation ahead.
As he dialled his mother's number, Dean's mind raced with questions. How would she react? What would she think of Y/N? And most importantly, how should he introduce her?
When his mother answered the phone, Dean hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Hey, Mom," he began, his voice tinged with nervousness. "I, uh... I wanted to let you know that I'm bringing someone with me to Sam's party tomorrow."
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before his mother replied, her tone curious. "Oh? And who might this be?" Dean swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. "Her name is Y/N," he said, his voice steady despite his nerves. "And... she's eh,... my girl." He said looking at Y/N.
“Sure honey, I’m glad you can make it. See you tomorrow.”
Y/N teases him "your girl? Who says I want to be you girl?” Dean couldn't help but chuckle at Y/N's playful teasing, her words lightening the tension and bringing a smile to his lips. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he turned to her, his voice filled with humour as he played along with her joke.
"Who said I want you to be my girl?" he replied with a playful smirk, his tone teasing and light-hearted. "Maybe I'm just looking for someone to do my laundry and cook me dinner."
Dean leans in for another breath-taking kiss. Hearing the music in the background.
.... When you love someone,
Yeah, I really love someone,
Now, I know it's right ...
--
As Dean and Y/N packed a suitcase with a few changes of clothes, they couldn't shake the sense of anticipation that hung in the air. With the possibility of staying over at Mary's house looming in the distance, they wanted to be prepared for anything.
As they climbed into the car and Dean started the engine, Y/N settled into the passenger seat, her bare legs stretched out comfortably on the dashboard. Dean couldn't help but admire the sight, his hand instinctively reaching out to rest on her knee as they drove.
Despite the nerves that still lingered in the back of Dean's mind, he felt a sense of peace settle over him. As they neared their destination, Dean couldn't shake the swirling thoughts in his mind. He found himself reflecting on how unexpected it was to find himself falling for someone like Y/N.
She was different from the girls he had imagined himself settling down with but in all the best ways. Despite his growing feelings for her, doubt gnawed at the edges of Dean's mind. Was Y/N truly here because she felt the same way, or was she just along for the ride?
But as he stole a glance at Y/N beside him, her laughter filling the car and her eyes sparkling with mischief, Dean couldn't help but push aside his doubts. There was something undeniably special about her, something that made him feel alive in a way he had never felt before.
As the engine's rumble subsided, Mary, swung open the door with a warm smile spreading across her face. Dean felt a surge of affection as he embraced his mom, her familiar scent enveloping him in a comforting embrace.
"Hey, Mom," Dean greeted her, his voice filled with warmth. "This is Y/N."
Mary's eyes lit up with genuine delight as she turned to Y/N, extending her arms for a welcoming hug. "It's lovely to meet you, Y/N," she said warmly. Y/N returned the hug with a smile, feeling the warmth of Mary's embrace. "It's great to meet you too, Mary," she replied sincerely.
Just then, Sam, appeared in the doorway with a teasing grin. "Still driving that old piece of junk?" he quipped. Dean rolled his eyes with a good-natured chuckle, accustomed to Sam's teasing. "Hey, baby may be old, but she's never failed me." he retorted, a hint of pride in his voice.
As Dean greeted Jess with a warm hug, Y/N couldn't help but notice the subtle tension that lingered between the brothers. Despite the playful banter, there was an underlying coldness in their interactions that didn't escape her notice.
Once inside, Y/N's eyes were drawn to the pictures of their dad adorning the walls. She couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance between Dean and his father, the same rugged charm and confident smile mirrored in both their faces.
As Y/N's gaze fell upon a picture of Dean, Sam, and their father standing proudly next to the impala. The image captured a moment frozen in time, a snapshot of a father and his sons united by their love for each other and their shared passion for the sleek, classic car.
Feeling Y/N's eyes on him, Dean met her gaze with a bittersweet smile, the weight of memories lingering in his expression. Before he could say anything, Mary, sensing the somber atmosphere, approached them with a gentle smile.
"It used to be John's car," she said softly, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "He loved that car, spent countless hours tinkering with it in the garage, making it just right." Y/N smiles “Like father like son.”
As the conversation at the dinner table shifted to Sam's plans as a lawyer and Y/N's previous studies in economics, Dean couldn't shake the feeling of being left out.
He listened quietly as Sam and Y/N exchanged stories and aspirations, feeling a twinge of guilt for not having asked Y/N about her studies or plans for the future himself. Sam seemed to like Y/N. Keep asking his brother where he found her.
And more importantly how he is going to keep her since she is a smart woman looking for a career. In which Dean just smiled like he had a toothache and drank his beer.
As the night moved on a new whirlwind of doubt and insecurity popped up.
Dean observed Sam and Jess's affectionate displays of love, he couldn't help but feel a pang of uncertainty about his own relationship with Y/N.
Dean couldn't shake the nagging question of whether Y/N wanted the same level of physical affection or if she needed her personal space. Dean gently placed his hand on the back of Y/N's chair, a small loving gesture.
Y/N met his gaze with a soft smile, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. Leaning back in her chair, she reached out to place her hand on his knee, her touch sending a wave of comfort and reassurance through him.
“How do you know Bobby, Y/N?” Mary asked. Y/N glanced at Dean, a smile playing at her lips. "Oh, Bobby's actually my uncle," she replied, her tone light and casual. "I've been helping him out at his car repair shop for a while now.”
“Oh that’s nice, finally a woman who can handle his books.” Dean chuckled softly, "Y/N's not just good with paperwork," he interjected, a hint of pride in his voice. "She's a pretty amazing mechanic too."
Mary's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze shifting to Y/N "Is that so?" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with curiosity.
Y/N nodded, a modest smile on her face. "Yeah, I've picked up a few things from working with Bobby," she explained. "I've always had a knack for fixing things, and he's been a great teacher." Jess chimed in, her eyes alight with interest. "That's incredible," she remarked.
Dean grinned, his pride in Y/N evident as he continued to sing her praises. "She's better with cars than she wants to admit," he admitted with a chuckle, glancing fondly at Y/N.
Sam's question cut through the conversation, his curiosity piqued by Dean's unwavering trust in Y/N's abilities. "Would you trust Baby to her?" he asked. Without hesitation, Dean's answer was swift and resolute. "Absolutely," he declared, his confidence unwavering.
The room fell silent once the woman helped each other in the kitchen. The brothers seemed to have an awkward cold moment together. “Mom seems to like her.” Sam said to break the silence.
“Just mom?” He looked up at his younger brother, holding the beer in his hand. “No, I like her too Dean, I’m just...”
“Just what?” - “I’m just concerned how you two are going to fit together in the future.” Dean got irritated. “What do you mean by that Sammy?” - “She wants to study and build a life. You never talked about a family.”
Dean kept quiet knowing he had the same questions.
--
As Dean and Y/N retreated to his old bedroom, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over her as she took in the surroundings. The room was a testament to Dean's past, filled with posters of classic cars and iconic supermodels like Cindy Crawford and Naomi Campbell.
Strolling around the room, Y/N's fingers trailed over the edges of the posters, a smile playing at her lips as she imagined Dean as a younger man, dreaming of fast cars and glamorous women. It was a side of him she hadn't seen before, a glimpse into his past that made her feel closer to him in a way she hadn't expected.
Turning to Dean, she couldn't help but tease him gently. "Nice taste in posters," she remarked with a playful grin, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I can see you had some... interesting choices."
Dean chuckled, a hint of embarrassment colouring his cheeks as he looked around the room. "Hey, don't judge," he replied with a smirk. "I was a teenager, what can I say, I liked nice things."
As Y/N moved to close the door, Dean's eyes grew wide. “Eh maybe leave that open.” Y/N noticed his nerves. "Come on, Dean, a little privacy wouldn't hurt," she teased, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Or is there something behind this door?”
Despite his protest, Y/N gently pushed the door closed, the soft click echoing in the room. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, her gaze falling on the posters of Pamela Anderson adorning the door.
Her grin widened as she pointed to the poster. "Aha, jackpot!" she exclaimed, unable to contain her amusement.
Dean's cheeks flushed slightly as he glanced at the poster, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. unable to hide his embarrassment. "Yeah, well, who didn't have a crush on her back then?" he replied, trying to play it off with a nervous chuckle.
Y/N couldn't help but tease him further, a playful glint in her eyes. "Sorry I'm not the Pam type," she teased getting in bed next to him, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "Maybe I should start wearing a red swimsuit and running in slow motion."
"Nah, you're way better than Pam," he replied, his eyes softening as he looked at her. Y/N grinned at his words, feeling a warmth spread through her chest.
As Y/N nestled into Dean's arms, his voice broke the silence, his tone tinged with a hint of awkwardness. "It's kinda weird being back in my old room," he confessed, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns on her back.
Y/N chuckled softly, her breath warm against his chest. "Tell me about it," she replied with a playful grin. "It's not every day I get to stare at Pamela Anderson while lying in bed with my boyfriend."
Dean's lips curled into a playful smirk as he leaned in closer to her. "Well, then, maybe you should focus on me instead," he suggested, his eyes dancing with mischief. Before Y/N could respond, Dean was already moving, his body hovering over hers as he captured her lips in a passionate kiss.
The loud squeak of the bed drew a laugh from Y/N, breaking the momentary silence that had settled between them. "How did you do it back in the day, without your parents knowing?" she quipped, her voice filled with amusement.
Dean chuckled, the sound warm and genuine as he shifted his weight on the bed, placing him next to her, pulling her in a hug. "Believe it or not, I never had a girl in this bed," he admitted with a sheepish grin.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Really? I find that hard to believe," she teased. He kissed her head, “No I'm serious.” Dean pulled Y/N close, holding her tightly in his arms as they lay together, a silence fell upon them while Y/N’s finger drew circles on his chest.
“Hey, eh you’ve seen my type... what are your exes like?” Y/N hesitated, her expression guarded as she considered how to respond. "They're... different," she finally admitted, her voice soft yet tinged with uncertainty.
Dean's brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to piece together her answer. "Different how?" he pressed, his voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
Y/N sighed, her gaze drifting away for a moment before she met Dean's eyes once more. "Let me guess, they're... in university or in their dad's business by now, right?." he asked, she searched for the right words to answer.
Dean's heart sank at her silence, a sense of inadequacy washing over him as he realized how different he was from her past partners. "So, they're like Sam," he guessed, his voice tinged with resignation.
Y/N nodded slowly, her expression sympathetic. "In some ways, yes," she admitted, her voice gentle yet filled with empathy. "But that doesn't mean they were right for me."
Dean thought for a second before his voice broke the silence, his words soft and earnest. "I want to tell Bobby about us," he confessed, his tone tinged with uncertainty. She gazed up at Dean, searching his eyes for an answer, her heart aching with the knowledge that their time together was limited. “Dean... why, I mean are you sure?”
His eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and determination as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from Y/N's face. "I don't want to hide it anymore" he replied, his voice gentle yet resolute. "I want the world to know how much you mean to me. That it’s not just a fling.”
"But... what when I leave?" she asked, her eyes searching his for reassurance.
A wave of sadness washing over him as he struggled to find the right words to say. "You don't have to leave," he blurted out, his voice raw with emotion. "We could take over Bobby's shop together. We could build a future here, together."
Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at his suggestion, her heart aching with the enormity of the decision before her. "But.. I want to study, I want my degree." she whispered,” That was always the plan, you know that... right?”
A pang of hurt coursing through him as he realized that their dreams might not align as perfectly as he had hoped. "I understand," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I thought that maybe you felt the same way I do."
Tears welled in Y/N's eyes as she reached out to cup his cheek, her touch gentle yet filled with love. "I do feel the same way, Dean," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "But we have to be realistic. We both have dreams, and we can't let them go."
"Don't you think we could make it work, I could wait for you?" He continued, afraid she sees him as a plaything for a while, afraid his reputation necked him. "I don't want to hold you back, Dean," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t want you to wait for me for another year or two. Who knows who you meet.”
“Or who you meet.” he echoed.
Y/N's heart ached as she watched the pain flicker in Dean's eyes, his expression clouded with a mixture of sadness and insecurity. She could sense his turmoil, his desire to retreat into himself and shield his heart from further hurt.
“Goodnight sweetheart” he kisses her soft before turning his back to her.
Without hesitation, she reached out to him, wrapping her arms around him, her cheek to his shoulder, in a tender embrace. "Dean," she whispered, her voice soft and reassuring. "No man has ever made me feel as safe and loved as you do."
She places a soft kiss on his shoulder, feeling she needs to make sure he knows she isn’t playing around. “Why don’t we start with telling Bobby. We’ll figure it out from there.”
Y/N feels his hand caressing her thigh. Feeling how he eased up.
--
“Dean! Dean wake up!”
Dean's eyes snapped open, his heart racing as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. He blinked in confusion, his mind still foggy from sleep as he tried to piece together what was happening.
"S-Sam?" he stammered, his voice hoarse as he looked around the dimly lit room.
Sam stood before him, his expression unreadable as he approached Dean cautiously. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
Dean's pulse quickened as he realized that something was terribly wrong. Memories of Y/N's embrace and their tender conversation flooded his mind, but as he looked around the unfamiliar room. “What happened?”
“A djinn.” Sam answered, "We need to get you out of here," he said, his voice urgent as he began to untie the ropes that bound Dean to the chair. Moving from Dean to the chair next to him.
His stomach churned, his heart skipped a beat as he looked at the girl sitting beside him, her presence filling him with a mix of confusion and disbelief.
It couldn't be possible, could it?
"Y/N?" he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur as he searched her face for any sign of recognition.
The girl's eyes still closed, “Hey, hey ,wake up.” Dean took over from Sam, kneeling before her, San know stood confused behind his brother.
Her eyes slowly open. "D-Dean?" she breathed, her voice tinged with disbelief.
A sense of relief washed over Dean as she recognised him. Despite the impossibility of the situation, he couldn't deny the overwhelming sense of joy that flooded through him at the sight of her.
“Let’s take you home, sweetheart.“ Dean and Sam drove Y/N home. She offers them a shower.
After his refreshment, Sam drove on to fetch some food, leaving Dean and Y/N alone in the quiet of her home, a palpable tension hung in the air between them. Dean shifted uncomfortably, his mind racing with a million thoughts and emotions as he tried to find the right words to say.
He waited by the window in the living room, looking outside, waiting for her to bring him some fresh clothes. “These are eh, well my exes. But I think they might fit you. The bathroom is down the hall.”
She hands him the clothing. Their hands touch.
Y/N glanced at him, her expression softening with concern as she took in his features. "Are you okay?" he asked, "I... I don't know," she admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Dean nodded, his grip tightening on the fabric.
“Everything felt so... real. And then I woke up, and it's like none of it ever happened." Y/N pinched her nose. Dean hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching Y/N's face for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. "Hey, uh, can I ask you something?" he began.
Y/N nodded, Dean took a deep breath, steeling himself for her response. "What did the djinn show you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N's brow furrowed in confusion, her gaze searching his face for any hint of deceit. "Why do you want to know?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Dean hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as he debated whether or not to reveal his own experience to her.
Shrugging his shoulders.
"I... I was back in college, working over the summer with my uncle," she began, her voice trembling slightly with apprehension. Dean nodded, his expression thoughtful as he listened intently to her words. "That sounds like a good gig," he commented.
A soft smile appears on her face while she thought about it, "Yeah, it was," she replied, her voice soft yet filled with emotion. The silence stretched between them, thick with tension as Y/N braced herself.
Dean took a step closer, cleared his throat, "Uh, did your uncle have a car repair shop?" he asked, his voice casual yet tinged with curiosity. Y/N's eyes grew wide in surprise at his question.
"Yeah, he did," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Dean’s heart made a jump realising they had the same dream. He flashed a mischievous grin as he leaned in closer to Y/N, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"So, did your uncle had a handsome mechanic working for him?" he teased. Her eyes sparkling with amusement as she shook her head. "Annoying, definitely, handsome.... maybe," she replied, her tone light and teasing.
Dean chuckled at her response, his grin widening as he leaned in closer. "Well, lucky for him, there was a pretty great niece to keep him company." Y/N smiled at his words, her heart fluttering with warmth as she met his gaze. "Yeah, I guess she's pretty lucky too."
Dean made his way to the bathroom
--
As the brothers were ready to leave Y/N stood at the door. “Well promise me you take care of yourself and her.” She nodded to the impala. Dean smiled soft, “same for you sweetheart.”
He turned his back to walk away with a heavy heart.
His hand on the car door.
“Dean?” He looked up. “I know it wasn’t real... But for what it’s worth... I meant it every word I said to you.” He smiled and nodded slowly.
Dean turned on the engine, the radio started playing music.
... You're so good
When we make love it's understood
It's more than a touch or a word we'd say...
“What was that about?” Sam asked. “What, eh, nothing.” Dean looked straight out on the road.
...Only in dreams could it be this way...
-----------
Song lyrics : Foreigner - Waiting for a girl like you
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Tangerine
Oscar Piastri x reader
Masterlist // Part 1 // Part 1.5 // Part 2
Summary: You’re definitely not an insomniac. But Oscar keeps finding you awake at all hours, and he’s starting to get worried. Or: I wrote this while actually being unable to sleep, passed out for 3 hours, woke up and finished it. So… here you go, I guess?
Word Count: 6.8k
Warnings: insomnia, anxiety/mild paranoia?, alcohol, limited knowledge of the actual structure of the MTC and the corporate structure of McLaren in general, a poorly researched night in Tokyo
The MTC lobby is empty, besides you. The lights are half turned off, motion sensors that have gone hours without detecting anything. You’ve stuck to your table in the corner. It’s quiet, just how you like it.
You look up from your notebook after who knows how long, blinking your weary eyes. Outside, the floodlights reflect off the inky black lake. There’s a car, pulling up in the drop off area outside the front doors. It’s Oscar, you think, his car one of a few that are easily recognizable. Sure enough, it’s confirmed when he climbs out of the driver’s side door. He leaves it running as he makes his way up to the door.
Oscar scans his pass and the doors swing open, followed by all of the lights in the lobby flickering on. You squint, fighting the urge to shield your eyes from the harsh lighting. Oscar is rushing through the lobby, a man on a mission, but he skids to a stop about halfway across the shiny tiled floor.
He turns, slowly, and makes eye contact with you. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”
You hold back a laugh, thinking that might be a little mean, all things considered. “What are you doing here?”
He sighs, hands hanging at his sides. “I forgot my phone charger, and my laptop, and…” he pauses, frowning at you. “What are you doing here?”
You raise your brows right back. “Working?”
You watch his eyes flicker across your setup. You’re still in the same McLaren sweatshirt you’d been wearing when you saw him that morning. Your hair is piled atop your head. Your laptop sits open in front of you, the only source of light before Oscar burst through the doors. There are papers and notebooks scattered on the tabletop. Your pen is missing- you selfishly hope that as he scours your table, he’ll spot it.
“You got here at 8am,” he says, bewildered. “It’s almost midnight. That’s almost 16 hours.”
He says nothing about the pen. Why would he? He doesn’t know it’s missing. Logically, it must be here somewhere, probably under a paper or clipped to a notebook, but you’ve given up.
“Yes,” you answer, smirking. “You’re great at math, Oscar.”
He rolls his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, home? Sleeping?”
You shrug. “I took breaks. It’s not like I’ve been working all day straight.”
You’re not lying. You’d taken a good, long lunch break, and an afternoon walk around the grounds. You’ve gotten up to stretch a couple times, made runs to the break room for coffee. You hope he doesn’t see straight through it, though. Hope he can’t see the dark circles under your eyes, the paleness of your skin, the exhaustion weighing your shoulders.
It’s not that you weren’t tired. You just knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep. One of those days. So instead, you had decided to be productive. Which had led to this- you in the lobby of your office building, hunched over a laptop. Oscar, the driver whose data you’re scouring, staring at you with wide eyes.
“Go grab your stuff,” you tell him, nodding towards the doors he’d been headed to. “You have an early flight tomorrow.”
He blinks wildly. “We’re on the same flight.”
You nod, because you both know this quite well. There’d been a meeting this morning about who had to be where and at what times. You’re on the first flight out with the main team, headed to Singapore.
“I’m not the one who has to drive the car at very high speeds this weekend,” you remind him, pointing the eraser of your pencil at him. “Or the one who has to be in front of the cameras. You need your beauty sleep.”
Oscar laughs at that, a happy sound that makes you smile, too. “Okay, okay. I’ll be right back.”
You think about disappearing to the bathroom or the break room while he’s gone, just to avoid any further questions. You know Oscar relatively well, though, and knowing him, he’d just wait around until you came back. Or worse, come and try to find you. You can picture it- you pouring your third cup of coffee in the last hour, Oscar watching from the doorway with disdain. You stay put, sipping from your mug and scribbling notes.
He’s back within a few minutes, a backpack in hand. His keys dangle from his fingertips. You don’t look up from your laptop as he walks towards you, that is until he’s standing right in front of you. You blink up at him through your lashes. There’s a frown on his face- this close, you know your lack of sleep must be obvious.
He nudges the top panel of your laptop with a single fingertip. “C’mon. Time to go home.”
“I’m fine,” you tell him, shaking your head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”
“What, you just gonna stay here until we all meet up in the morning to go to the airport?” He scoffs.
“That would be ridiculous,” you laugh.
“It would,” he agrees. He seems to see straight through you, though. “Come on. Close the laptop, close the notebooks. You can work on this on the flight, like a normal person.”
“I’m trying to improve your car, you know.”
“I’m not leaving until you do,” he finally says, and you scoff with wide eyes. “And remember, I’m the one who has to actually drive the car. And go in front of the cameras. I need my beauty sleep.”
You rear your head back, unsure how to even counter that. He takes the opportunity to close the laptop for you, and you bat at his hands. Then he’s sweeping your papers into piles, stacking your notebooks and gathering them up into his arms.
“That’s my intellectual property, you know,” you scold him, reaching for the papers. He holds them up above your head easily, and you groan. “Okay, okay, I’ll go, just- I lost my pen, earlier. It’s my favorite one. I just have find it and then I promise I’ll go- you can go home, really, I’ll see you-“
He’s reaching for your head, suddenly, and you freeze. When his hand returns to your view, he’d holding the pen between his fingertips. You blink once, twice, then reach for it, but he’s holding it above your head within seconds, too.
“We’re leaving,” he tells you, firmly. “Come on. Up we go.”
You get to your feet reluctantly and pack your things into your bag. Oscar helps, handing you your papers in neat little piles. He keeps you in front of him as you both exit the lobby, like he’s afraid you might take off running further into the office building. His car is still parked out front, still running, and you see him wince.
“Didn’t expect to be inside for so long,” he says sheepishly.
You laugh lightly, starting your walk towards the employee lot. It’s down a well lit path, but every step feels heavy this late at night.
“Wait,” he says, and you pause. “Do you want a ride? You seem tired. You know, sometimes that’s as bad as driving drunk.”
“I’m not gonna fall asleep behind the wheel,” you tell him. You say it with confidence, because it’s pretty likely you’re not going to fall asleep at all tonight.
He cocks his head at you, cast in the bright glow of the floodlights. “At least let me drive you to your car. Otherwise, how do I know you’re not going to just go back inside?”
You roll your eyes. “And how do I know you’re not trying to kidnap me?”
You end up getting in the car, because he makes it pretty clear he’s not leaving until you do. You contemplate just walking to your own car, but honestly your feet feel so heavy it’s just not worth the fight. Oscar, to his credit, doesn’t kidnap you. He also doesn’t comment on your very modest car, the only one left in the parking lot. He does try to offer you a ride home one more time, but he lets it go after your repeat refusal.
You say goodbye, climb into your own car, and start the engine. The heat kicks on quickly, thank god, and you start up a playlist. It’s only when you look up, ready to leave, that you notice his car is still sitting there. You can just barely see Oscar behind the windshield, and he waves at you. He’s waiting for you to leave.
You flip him off as you roll out of the parking lot, and you watch him laugh in response.
…..
You’re one of the first ones at the office the next morning, and therefore one of the first ones on a shuttle to the airport. Oscar’s chronically late, or as he would call it, chronically precisely on time, so you don’t see him until he’s climbing on the plane. McLaren’s rented out a charter plane for this trip, with the double header making it the easiest solution.
You’re already settled into a seat, laptop open on the table in front of you, headphones on. You barely even look up when you feel him looking over you, but then he’s tugging one side of your headphones off your ear.
“Did you even sleep?” He asks, brows furrowed.
“Yes,” you lie, raising your brows at him defensively.
Oscar raises his brows in return. He obviously doesn’t believe you.
Before he can say anything else, Lando’s behind him, leaning up over his shoulder. “Oscar, mate, get a move on.”
Oscar rolls his eyes but does as Lando’s urging. There’s not assigned seats, per say, but the two drivers are headed towards the middle of the plane where their trainers and other senior staff are sitting. That’s how these things normally go- it just makes sense. They’ll have meetings on the plane, talk about meal plans and strategies and get ready for the weekend. You’ll spend your flight going through the data just one more time, trying to unlock all of the secrets to give Oscar the best possible chance on Sunday.
…..
Singapore is good. Not great, not perfect, but good. For Lando’s team, it’s a huge weekend. And honestly, 4th place for Oscar in his rookie year is huge too. He’s thrilled, tells you as much after the race, after the briefing.
“I know you worked hard this weekend, put in a lot of hours,” he says. “Thank you.”
“Just doing my job,” you say with a shrug.
“Right.” He says. “Thanks, though.”
You smile up at him, knowing it’s wobbly and insincere. You don’t take compliments well. “No problem.”
When you get to the hotel that night, you lay down in the bed and try to fall asleep. It’s no use, really, because it’s not your bed, and because your mind is racing. There’s nothing even bothering you, that’s the stupid thing. Just… a billion thoughts flying by all at once. So you wander the hotel, up and down the stairs, down the halls. You make a pit stop in the exercise room, walk on the treadmill, try out the rowing machine. You’ve never been one for working out, but the internet says exercise can help with sleep issues. It’s worth a try, but it doesn’t work.
You contemplate sneaking into the closed hotel pool, but ultimately decide against it. You’d probably get caught, and then you’d get in trouble, and it would somehow make it back to your boss. Then you’d get fired in Singapore, left to find your own way home. So instead, you head for the vending machines on your floor. There’s got to be something in there that’ll cure the racing in your head. Or at least bring you some comfort in the dead of night.
What doesn’t bring you comfort in the dead of night is a face in the reflection on the glass of the vending machine. You nearly scream when you meet someone else’s eyes. You whirl around, arms in a defensive position, and come face to face with Oscar.
“Would’ve pegged you for flight, not fight,” he says drowsily.
“You can’t sneak up on people like that,” you hiss, dropping your hands to your sides.
“Payback,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face clumsily. “B‘sides, I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you. I was trying to get a snack.”
You blink at him. “Oscar, it’s 3am.”
He nods, blinks slowly. You almost expect his eyes to stay closed, almost expect him to fall asleep standing up.
“I woke up starving,” he says, shuffling towards one of the vending machines. “Promise you won’t tell Kim? I’ll buy you whatever you want.”
He’s cute when he’s sleepy. You want to tuck him into bed and tell him bedtime stories. You want to kiss his forehead. You blink hard, trying to reset your brain. The sleep deprivation is really getting to you. This is your coworker, your teammate.
You shrug and nod in agreement. “Would’ve kept the secret without the bribe, but if you’re offering…”
Oscar laughs, a quiet sound in the empty night air. “What’ll it be, then?”
He’s leaning against the glass heavily. He must still be half asleep. You can’t blame him. You point at the bag of chips you’d been eyeing, and then at the gummy worms in the corner. He nods in approval of both, selects them, feeds the machine his money. Then he’s picking his own snack- a poptart and a bag of Cheetos. He backs away, but you make a noise and point at the drinks machine.
“And a Red Bull?” You ask, pointing at your favorite flavor where it sits, lit up by fluorescent light.
He turns back, almost puts the money in, and then he pauses and looks at you. “It’s 3am.”
“Right, we established that.”
“Why would you drink Red Bull at 3am?” He asks, bewildered.
You shrug. “Because I like Red Bull.”
“Go work for them, then,” he suggests. You laugh. “Actually, I have a feeling that would be severely detrimental to your health. Too many free energy drinks. Do you ever sleep?”
“Those are big words for 3am,” you tease, nudging his shoulder. “Come on. The tangerine one, please.”
“I’m not buying you a Red Bull.” He shakes his head. “I am walking you back to your room and you’re going to bed.”
“I’ll tell Kim about your snacks.”
“No, you won’t.”
You let him walk you back to your room. He stands there as you swipe the key card, as you open the door and shuffle inside. He says goodnight from the doorway. You close the door after you echo the sentiment, lock all the locks, and lay down in your bed. You close your eyes and try to go to sleep. You really, truly try. But when the clock turns over to 4am, and you realize it’s useless, you roll out of bed and head down to the vending machine. You buy the Redbull with your own money, carry it back to your room, turn on the tv, and settle in until the sun comes up.
…..
Tokyo may just be your favorite city in the entire world. Everything is open all the time. You’ve never felt more seen by a city. The days that you and the rest of the team spend there between the two races are heaven. You have meetings during the day, but they’re short and easy. At night, there are plenty of places for you to roam, plenty of things to do and see.
You spend your nights in ramen bars, in arcades, in toy stores that seem to stretch on for miles. You collect so many souvenirs you’re worried you’ll have to buy a second suitcase. Frankly, you’re going on week two of sleeping only in one to two hour stints, and it’s likely you’re beginning to get a little manic. In Tokyo, though, nobody bats an eye.
You join the team for breakfast in the hotel lobby on Thursday. You’ve somehow ended up at a table with Oscar and Lando- you’d gotten here before anyone else, and Oscar had chosen the seat across from you. Lando asks what you’ve been up to. They’ve been busy with promo stuff, you’ve hardly seen the two of them all week.
You regale them with your stories and hand off your phone to Lando so he can scroll through your pictures. Oscar listens with rapt attention, leaning to look at the photos too.
“How do you do all this and find time to sleep?” Lando asks, an amused tone in his voice.
“She doesn’t, mate,” Oscar replies, pointing at your phone. “Look at the time stamps.”
You roll your eyes and snatch the phone away from them. Lando’s looking at you with wide eyes, Oscar is smiling amusedly.
“Sleep is for the weak,” you tell them, and you swear Lando’s eyes are going to bug out of his head. “We’re in Tokyo, I’m making the most of it.”
To Oscar’s credit, he doesn’t bring up the encounter at the MTC, or the run in at the vending machines. Still, this revelation seems to bewilder Lando.
“Sleep is like, the most important thing,” he says, shaking his head. “For your health.”
“Not all of us have to be in tip top shape,” you say, stabbing your fork into a waffle on your plate. “Some of us get to have fun. Exhibit B. Our breakfasts.”
Lando looks at your plate, filled with waffles and bacon and your cup of coffee, next to it. He casts his glance to his sad looking bowl of oatmeal, then, and sighs heavily. Oscar’s laughing at the two of you, though his plate looks just as sad.
“When you pass out halfway through the day,” Lando says, a retaliatory furrow in his brow, “I’m telling Andrea why.”
“That won’t happen,” you reassure him. “And besides, it’s media day. I have it easy.”
…..
Oscar makes it on the podium on Sunday. You scream your lungs out with the rest of the team, run to the pit wall, watch the podium celebrations. He’s wrapping everyone in enthusiastic hugs, slapping everyone’s backs and grinning so, so widely. All the lost sleep feels worth it, just to see him smile like that.
When he makes it to you, he hauls you into his chest, arms around your shoulders, holding you tight. You could stay like that forever, if he’d let you. He tucks his chin atop your head and you think you’d like to make a home right there, in his arms.
The celebrations go late, and so does the debrief. By the time it’s all said and done, everyone looks exhausted, including the drivers. They start shuttling you all back to the hotel for the night, back in Tokyo so you can get on the plane easily tomorrow morning. You’re just glad to be back in the city. On a night like tonight, buzzing with adrenaline and caffeine, there’s no way you’re falling asleep.
You somehow end up in a shuttle with Oscar. He smells like champagne and sweat, and you tease him about it when he sits down in the back row next to you.
He smiled sheepishly. “So I smell like a podium finisher, then.”
You watch as the city goes by out the window and listen to him chat idly with the others in the van. When you get back, you’re the last one out of the car. He’s waiting outside the hotel, leaning on the wall.
“So, what’s your plan for the night?” He asks, cocking a brow.
“No judgement?” You ask.
“No judgement,” he promises.
You shrug. “Not exactly sure. There’s a lot to do. I’ll probably get some ramen, maybe go shopping. Might just take a walk.”
He nods. “Sleep?”
“Not high on the priority list,” you admit.
He nods again. “Can I come with?”
You blank, staring at him. “What?”
“On your adventure,” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can I come along?”
Suddenly your heart is pounding in your chest. He wants to come with? Why? There’s a part of you that doesn’t like the idea, that thinks your sleepless adventures are for you and you alone. The other part of you, the one that wins out, thinks it might not be so bad to have some companionship.
“… sure,” you agree, eyeing him carefully. “But you have to play along. No forcing me to go to sleep.”
“Promise,” he says, holding out his pinky.
You hook yours with his and seal the deal.
…..
You both head up to your hotel rooms to change clothes, and in Oscar’s case, to take a shower. He sends you a text when he’s ready and you meet him in the lobby. He’s in a casual outfit, jeans and a hoodie. You’re dressed similarly, in a pair of black jeans and a crewneck.
“Where to?” He asks, wide grin on his face.
It turns out that Oscar is the ideal late night adventure companion. You start your night out at a sushi conveyor restaurant, both of you joking about how Lando would never dare to eat there. You eat to your heart’s content and make comments about fueling up for the night ahead. He even joins you in having an energy drink, some Japanese brand that you’ve never heard of. Oscar reads part of the label to you, balks at the amount of caffeine in it, and drinks it anyways.
After the restaurant, the two of you climb into a cab and head to the Shibuya district. It’s crawling with people, buzzing with energy, and you feel right at home. Oscar sticks close to your side, hanging onto the back of your sweatshirt as you cross the busy crosswalks in a sea of people. When you turn, though, he’s smiling like he’s having the time of his life. The two of you climb the stairs to an observatory where you can watch the dance of pedestrians and traffic from above. There’s a glow to the city that feels akin to how your brain feels when you can’t sleep- like it never goes out, never turns off.
You tell this to Oscar, who gives you a contemplative look.
“Is it the energy drinks?” He asks. His hand is on your wrist, likely just to keep track of you in the crowds.
You shake your head. “The energy drinks came after the… not sleeping-“
“Insomnia,” he suggests.
“… not sleeping,” you repeat, narrowing your eyes at him. “Anyways. I was like a zombie. The energy drinks make it so I’m functional. I figure if I’m gonna be awake, may as well enjoy it.”
You head back out onto the streets and begin to wander again. Oscar follows along, always holding onto you in some way, always smiling when you look at him. The two of you wander through art galleries and museums lit up with neon lights. Somewhere in the middle of one of them, he slips his fingers between yours. You’re not complaining. There’s something grounding, leveling about his presence.
You stop for drinks at a bar- some sort of local beer that Oscar orders for both of you in Japanese. It’s followed by a vodka Red Bull, at your insistence. Oscar wrinkles his nose but drinks the whole thing, seemingly determined to match you.
Next door, there’s a highly American themed bowling alley. Oscar laughs about how Logan would love it and pulls you inside. It’s the first stop of the night that he’s suggested, so you go along eagerly. He’s snapping pictures, ones to send to Logan, ones for himself, ones of you smiling, renting out bowling shoes. He pays for the game, and you both do terribly. The worker puts the bumper guards up out of pity, because the two of you obviously have no idea what you’re doing. He’s a world renowned athlete, you’re a highly skilled engineer, and yet, you both suck at bowling.
“When did the in-“ you fix him with a glare, and he stops mid sentence. “When did the not sleeping start?”
You look up at the ceiling of the bowling alley and purse your lips, watching the disco ball spin. “Next question.”
He huffs and shrugs, rolling the ball down the lane. “I don’t have a next question.”
“What’s your family like?”’you ask him, and he smiles, softer than you’ve ever seen him smile before.
“Well, I have three sisters,” he starts, eyes lighting up.
Somewhere between the bowling alley, the next bar, and the shopping mall you end up in, you start to really get to know Oscar. It’s funny how the night opens people up. Everything feels safer in the dark, surrounded by other people. It’s creeping up on 1am- in theory, both of you should be sound asleep. The fact that you’re not makes anything okay. You learn about his family, his childhood, his friends back home and in the UK. You tell him about yourself, too. He listens with an eager look on his face, laughing at all the right moments, squeezing your hand at the right ones, too.
You end up in a store that’s packed to the brim with stuffed animals. He lets you drag him around the whole thing, pointing out cute ones and the ones you think are a bit odd. Then you gasp, pointing excitedly, pulling on his hand.
“It’s you,” you squeak, the delirium beginning to set in. It’s a stuffed Kangaroo, and he groans softly. “Look, you’re even making the same face.”
Oscar seems unable to argue with that. Both he and the stuffed kangaroo do seem to be scowling. He smiles instead, picks it up, and takes it to the register. He buys it before you can really even say anything, and the cashier packages it in a bag. The kangaroo’s head sticks out over the paper, your second faithful companion for the night.
By 3am, Oscar is starting to drag. He perks up every time you look at him and smiles brightly, but you can tell. His grip on your hand is looser lately, and his blinks are growing longer and longer. You turn to him, a sympathetic smile on your face.
“We can go back to the hotel, if you want,” you say, poking his cheek lightly.
He smiles. “Are you tired?”
You sigh. “No, but you are.”
“I’m okay,” he insists, shaking his head. “What about the batting cages you mentioned? That sounded fun.”
You pout at him. “Oscar, you’re half asleep. You’d definitely get hit by a ball.”
He nods in agreement. “Maybe I just need another energy drink?”
You cock your head at him, take in his heavy eyelids, his parted lips. “That would be your third one of the night. And that would be very unhealthy.”
He nods again. “Yeah. Okay. Just… I said I’d be along for the ride.”
“We can hang out at the hotel,” you suggest. “The pool area is open all night.”
“I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”
“Me neither.”
You somehow end up with a pizza on your way back, and the two of you plant yourselves in the pool area on one of the chaise lounge chairs, the pizza box in front of you. You eat the greasy, cheesy food, and even Oscar indulges in it. He has his hand planted on the chair behind your back. Every so often you lean backs against his arm just to feel his presence. His knee bumps against yours, and you smile.
The pool is clear and blue. Neither of you will be swimming, but this felt like a neutral enough place. You’d thought about inviting him back to your room but had felt weird about it. There’s something calming about the still water and the smell of the chlorine, anyways.
He leans his head on your shoulder. The heavy weight of him is nice. He’s solid, sturdy, grounding. You’re chatting idly about something that happened at the race, something he’d missed while he was driving the car. You break off in the middle of a sentence to yawn, and then you close your eyes for just a moment. Oscar’s breath hitches.
The two of you are silent for a moment. You stare into the clear water, aching to drift and float and fall asleep. You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest.
“It started when I was a kid,” you tell him. “I just… stopped sleeping. It comes and goes in cycles. Sometimes I’m fine, sometimes I just…”
“Can’t sleep,” Oscar finishes for you, his words contradicting the sleepy tone of his voice.
“Yeah,” you say, blinking slowly again.
Your head droops, resting against his. He’s so warm, so comforting. He must feel you drifting, must feel your grip faltering, because then he’s sitting up, tucking you into his chest.
“Is there anything I can do?” He asks, drowsily.
“M’so tired,” you admit, curling into him. “Justwannasleep.”
Tears are stinging at your eyes. You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t been prepared for this part. The moment when your lack of sleep catches up to you, and you become an emotional, distraught mess. You’re seconds away from full on sobbing.
Oscar seems to sense this. “Okay. Okay, how about- I have a pull out couch in my suite. Why don’t you- if you’re comfortable, you could come sleep there. Maybe it would help to know somebody’s there if you need it? Maybe-“
“Okay,” you answer, nodding against his chest. “Okay, yeah.”
He takes care of the empty pizza box and guides you up to his room. You know there’ll be questions to answer if anyone sees you, but you’re comforted by the fact that it’s 4am and nearly every sane person is sound asleep. He scans into the room, and you let out a sigh when he lets go of your hand. He moves quickly, unfolding the pull out couch, grabbing extra blankets from the cabinets. Before you know it, you’re sitting down on the bed, rubbing your eyes.
It’s strange, now that you’re here. You’re in Oscar’s hotel room. You’ve just spent the night wandering Tokyo with him. You’re exhausted, sleep deprived, still on the verge of tears. Everything feels hazy and blurry.
“I can… go, if you want,” he says, and you blink up at him through your blurry vision. “Or I can sit with you till you fall asleep.”
“That might take a while,” you tell him. “Like, you’re more likely to fall asleep. Even… when I finally get to this point, it takes a while.”
He shrugs. “We could put on a movie.”
That’s exactly what you do. He turns on the tv, spots Finding Nemo on the guide, and turns it on. He sinks down on the bed, leaning against the couch back. You crawl up next to him as he turns the volume low. At first, you just sit shoulder to shoulder. Then he reaches out, wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulls you into his side. You sigh against him. Cradled close, you let the exhausted tears flow. He can’t see you, probably, and even if he can, you can’t bring yourself to care. He leans down, brushes his lips against your forehead.
“M’right here,” he says, softly. “I’ve got you.”
You wake up at 8am with your head in his lap. His alarm is blaring from the side table, and you’re both springing apart. He fumbles for his phone, shutting the alarm off with the shaky hands of someone who’s just been woken up from not nearly enough sleep.
You, on the other hand, have gotten the most consecutive sleep of your last two weeks. You stretch, rubbing the blur from your eyes and blinking at him.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
“For what?” He asks, voice steady.
“For… I don’t know. Keeping you up so late? Falling asleep on you?” You shrug. “I… that was a lot, for me to put that all on you.”
Oscar shrugs, so nonchalant about it. “It’s what friends are for.”
You nod, though you’re not convinced. You pull away, and Oscar’s soft smile drops to a flat frown. He reaches for you, but you dodge his touch.
“I should go,” you tell him. “We have to leave soon, people are going to be getting up and- if they see me come out of your room-“
“We can be friends,” he says, again, brows furrowing. “We didn’t do anything wrong, everything is okay-“
He doesn’t understand. It’s fine for him, but this is too much for you. He wants to be friends, but you’re looking at him and thinking about how if you could curl up on his chest every night, you might never have trouble sleeping again. He wants friends, you want more. You can’t have more, though, because there’s no way you’ll keep your job. And he doesn’t want that, anyways. Why would he? You’re just his pity project, the poor girl who can’t sleep, who fails at counting sheep.
“I should go,” you repeat, standing up. You can’t look at him, can’t watch him watching you. “Thank you. For everything. I’m sorry.”
He stands up too, and he grabs your hand. You pause, stuck between ripping your hand from his and running, or whirling around and snapping at him. Fight or flight. Instead, you take a deep breath. You’re still sleep deprived, still exhausted. 4 hours doesn’t fix two weeks of little to no sleep.
“I’m sorry,” you breathe, shoulders sagging. “I have a hard time letting people take care of me.”
“It’s okay,” Oscar says. “Just- come sit down? Let’s talk, okay?”
You sink down on the bed, rest your elbows on your knees and your face in your hands. “Why do you care?”
Oscar sits down next to you. He reaches out, knits your fingers together. You’re reminded of the art galleries, of the crowds, of the bowling alley. You split yourself open last night, in the safety of the time when you should’ve been sleeping. He saw you and he’s still here, somehow, hanging on. Your bones are tired. Your head is pounding. You need caffeine.
“I care,” he says, gently, “because I care about you. Because I think you’re a good person, and I want to get to know you better. And because this whole thing is not healthy.”
You sigh. His thumb brushes over the back of your hand methodically, back and forth. The funny thing is, you could fall asleep again, just like this. You could lean into his shoulder, let the warmth of him seep into your skin, and fall asleep. You wonder if he knows it.
“I’m fine,” you tell him, rubbing at your face sleepily. “Osc, I’ve been like this for years. It’s not just going to change now.”
“Not overnight,” he says, softly. There’s a callous on his thumb, you can feel the scrape of it over your skin. It’s oddly soothing. “But I can try. I can be here.”
“Why would you want to?”
“Because despite all the craziness, last night was the most fun I’ve had in weeks,” he says, and you could cry. “I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you. Take you on dates. The whole nine yards.”
You should’ve expected this. Oscar can be shy, and quiet, but he can be straightforward, too. He’s pretty easy to read. He’s blunt with Lando, almost to the point of contention sometimes. But you’d been so focused on trying to prove to him that you were just fine that you hadn’t considered he was feeling the sparks, too. That maybe he wasn’t holding onto you in the crowd just so he didn’t lose you. That maybe he liked the feeling of your skin on his, too.
“If you want that,” he says, voice low.
You blink blearily, pull away to look up at him. “I do.”
He nods, leans forward, kisses your forehead. The rest of it will come later, you think. You can work all the details out when you’re both more awake. Right now, he pulls you into his chest and flops back onto the bed.
“We have an hour before anyone comes looking for us,” he says, rubbing your back lightly. “Close your eyes? You don’t have to sleep, just-“
You blink once, twice, and then you’re fast asleep before he can get another word out.
…..
Oscar wins the sprint race in Qatar, and then takes second on Sunday. He’s nothing but endless wide grins all weekend, despite the heat and the dehydration and his obvious exhaustion. You laugh when you watch him lay down on the floor in the cool down room and smile when he gets sprayed with champagne on the podium. He chases you through the garage afterwards to give you a hug, despite your screeching about how sticky he is.
He tucks you into his chest. “Couldn’t have done it without you, baby.”
Later, you help corral a very tired Oscar and Lando to the shuttles and back to the hotel. They’re each stumbling over their own feet, giggling and laughing about the race, shoving at each other’s shoulders. For a minute, you’re walking through an empty parking lot, far from any other McLaren staff, and Oscar links his fingers with yours. They fit together like puzzle pieces. His fingers are sticky with champagne, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Lando sees and doesn’t say anything, just smiles.
You’re keeping it quiet for now. Time to figure it out between the two of you before you get your bosses involved. You have a feeling it’ll be mostly okay. You’ll figure it out, one way or another.
You follow Oscar up to his hotel room, saying goodnight to Lando as he heads further down the hall. He knits his fingers with yours again, leads you into his room, and collapses onto the bed.
“I’m exhausted,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Are you?”
You smile down at him, laid out on the bed. He should probably shower, at the very least change his clothes, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him that.
You sigh. “I mean, yeah, but if you’re asking if I’ll be able to sleep… probably not.”
He nods in understanding and purses his lips. “D’you think… would you just… stay, until I fall asleep?” He asks, blinking up at you. “After that you can take my card and get a Red Bull and go do whatever, just-“
“Yeah, I’ll stay,” you tell him.
It’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done. He gets ready for bed, and you do the same. You lean against the headboard and he crawls up the bed. He puts his head on a pillow in your lap, curls up into a little c shape. He’s very cat like, you’ve noticed, especially when he’s sleepy. You run your fingers through his hair, the tv playing quietly in the background, and he sighs and closes his eyes.
“Goodnight,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.
He’s out within minutes. Oscar is a sound sleeper. You could move him, could shift his head and get up. You could wander the halls, take his card and buy all the energy drinks you desire. But you look down at him, his brow unfurrowed, lips parted, and you can’t bring yourself to do it. You could sit here and watch him breathe all night. It’s a terrifying and comforting thought, all at once.
You don’t sleep. It’s likely you’ll crash on the flight home, or maybe shortly after that. With your luck, you’ll pass out in a meeting when you get back to the MTC. Oscar doesn’t scold you when he wakes up and it’s obvious you’ve been awake all night.
He gets you coffee from the breakfast bar, exactly how you like it. And when he finds you in the backseat of the airport shuttle, he hands you a tangerine Red Bull. It’s early, the sun just peeking up over the horizon, washing the whole city with orange. He’s smiling at you, and you’re smiling right back.
When you fall asleep on his shoulder on the way to the airport, nobody dares to say a word.
…..
“Did you hear we’re gonna be sponsored by Monster next year?” Lando asks, throwing a tennis ball at a wall in the courtyard.
You sit up in the grass nearby, eyes lighting up. “You’re kidding. Free Monster?”
Oscar, whose stomach you’d been laying on, sits up behind you and wraps his arm around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder.
“Your consumption will be restricted,” he says, and you laugh.
You suppose that’s fair. Besides, Monster is fine, but nothing will ever top tangerine Red Bull.
check out the companion blurb, Glad You’re Here
thanks for reading, hope you sleep better than me! you can find my other fics here! sweet dreams y’all
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