Supernatural Imagines

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Jul 9

Hi sweetie ! Please could you write a fic with Dean being jealous because another guy touched you ?

Anonymous

Hey! Um, okay, for the record, I know nothing about pool. Absolutely nothing. But I really wanted to include it in this imagine. So I had to go on wikihow to write this. So if anything’s wrong or whatever, please forgive me.

~~~~~

There was a clunk as the cue ball shot out from where you’d hit it, bumping into the other balls on the table. You straightened up, watching in satisfaction as a couple of the balls went into the pockets. You were just taking a swig of your beer when a voice close to your ear said, “You’re pretty good at that.” Turning around, you found yourself face to face with an incredibly attractive guy, probably around Sam’s age.

“Thank you,” you replied, giving him a coy smile as you put your empty bottle down on a side table. The music and laughter of the bar made it hard to hear, so you had to lean in very close to catch his next words.

“Of course,” he said, “I would offer a couple of suggestions for you to improve your technique.”

“Excuse me?” you answered, leaning away from him and pretending to take offence at his words. “My technique is flawless!”

He smirked at you, reaching out to take the pool cue from you. “There’s always room for improvement,” he told you, giving you a wink. You felt your face flush, and hoped that the poor lighting kept your face hidden from him. “The key,” he continued, turning away from you to face the table, “is in your stance.”

You watched as he positioned himself over the table, lining up the cue with the cue ball. He paused for a moment, before drawing the cue back and sending it into the ball. It shot forwards, hitting the other balls and sending them ricocheting off the edges of the table, with several of them sinking in the pockets. “Impressive,” you nodded, glancing at him in admiration.

“Here. You try.” He held the cue out to you, watching as you grabbed it and took up your position at the edge of the table. As you started to line it up, you felt him come up behind you, his arms reaching around to shift you into a better position. You had to stifle a gasp as his warm breath grazed your neck. “Good,” he whispered. “Now take a shot.”

You let the pool cue go, and laughed as the hit turned out better than it had ever gone before. But you barely had a moment to enjoy the shot before you felt the warmth of your admirer being jerked away from you. “What the -?” You spun around, only to find Dean pulling the guy you’d been talking to away.

“What are you doing, Dean?” Last you knew, he and Sam had been talking to a couple of attractive women over by the bar. You wondered if he’d had too much to drink, but he didn’t seem to be hurting the guy - just keeping him off you. “I’m so sorry,” you said to the guy. “This is my friend, Dean. But honestly, I don’t know what’s gotten into him!”

“It’s alright,” he replied, sending a tight smile in your direction.

“Could I speak to you for a minute, Y/N?” Dean asked stiffly. You were about to say no, when the guy you were interested in glanced between the two of you and excused himself, leaving you to face Dean on your own.

“What the hell, Dean?” you demanded. “You just sent him away! And I didn’t even get his name or his number!” You felt yourself growing angry, and you glanced at Dean in disbelief. What right did he have to choose who you spoke with when you went out? And it wasn’t as if the guy had been hurting you - it was an innocent conversation. Perhaps a tad flirty, but innocent none the less. What right did Dean have to interrupt?

“I didn’t like the way he was touching you.” With every minute that passed, Dean seemed to grow more and more uncomfortable. Which served him right, seeing as he had ruined your evening.

“Dean, he was helping me with my pool!” you exclaimed. But the longer you looked at him, the more you noticed his fidgeting and nervousness. Dean, the guy who was always confident (and perhaps the tiniest bit arrogant at times), was nervous? “Oh. My. God,” you said, finally understanding. “You were jealous!”

“I was not!” Dean protested weakly. But he couldn’t meet your eye, which didn’t go far in the way of convincing you.

“Yeah, right!” you laughed, putting the pool cue back. You gazed at him thoughtfully for a moment, smirking slightly, before standing up on tiptoes so that your mouth was in line with his ear. “You know,” you whispered, “If you ever want to play pool with me, all you have to do is ask.”

~~~~~

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