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fangirlxwritesx67 · 4 years

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Make Me Wanna Kiss You

Dean x OFC Rhea, 1200 words, cute fluff and food

Written for my sweet @winchesterxfamilybusiness Make Me Swoon 250 Followers Challenge. Sabrina, it has been a delight to get to know you! I admire you as a person, a fangirl, and a friend. Hope this makes you swoon

Rhea sighed as she locked the door behind at the small family-owned restaurant where she worked. The last lunch customer had just left, and now she had only a couple of hours before the restaurant would reopen for dinner, and plenty of work to do in the meantime. She had to chop vegetables for salads, fruit for cocktail garnishes, and slice the bread that would go on the table with every meal. There was also cleaning to be done and silverware - always silverware to be rolled.

But first, her own lunch. One of the perks of this job was that the owners provided a meal between the seatings. Usually it was a burger, hot sandwich, or the daily special, whatever the kitchen needed to get rid of, but it was free and better than what she could cook on her own.

Lately, though, there was an added attraction to employee meal time: the handsome new line cook, Dean Winchester.

He had started a couple of months ago when the last line cook stormed out in a huff over food safety measures. Dean fit into the kitchen like he had always been there.

At first, Rhea had been attracted to him for his good looks. His handsome face, sprinkled with freckles, was all chiseled angles, except for his mouth that was ridiculously plush. His apple green eyes were bracketed by lines that deepened in the rare moments that he laughed.

He turned out to be a hard worker, steady and less temperamental than most of the kitchen staff she had worked with over the years. He moved from stove to line to fridge to broiler with grace and rhythm that reminded her of a dancer. And his hands, those broad knuckles, scarred and freckled - she had lost moments, sometimes, watching him work.

Dean didn’t talk a lot, but Rhea had managed to gather that he was new in town, that he had a younger brother, and that his pride and joy was his car, a ‘67 Chevy Impala he referred to lovingly as Baby. He smoked, of course, drank a little too hard, and was inked as far up his arms as she could see under his black chef’s jacket.

Lately, she had started to linger in the kitchen when he made her lunch, for no reason other than she wanted to be near him. Sometimes she felt like she was talking to a brick wall, but then occasionally he would chuckle or simply crack a smile so bright it made her blush.

“It’s sandwich day!” He greeted her with a wide grin. “The other waitress already got hers and went-” he gestured with a spatula at the door. “So pick what you want, whatever you want, that I can put between two piece of bread.”

Rhea paused, taken aback.

“But wait.” Dean continued. “Let me guess, BLT on wheat toast, extra crispy bacon, add cheddar and avocado, side of fries.”

“How- how did you know?”

“I pay attention. You like things a certain way. And I know you usually eat the veggies of the day, but I see you sneaking fries off the warmer.”

Rhea blushed, but it was true. “Okay, but I can’t eat a side of fries every day. Do you know how much fatter I’d be?”

Dean’s expression turned dead serious. “First of all, there is nothing fat about you. Second, who cares? Life is short. Eat the fries. I like to see a woman who enjoys her meals.” He turned away suddenly, as if afraid he had said too much.

He was silent while he made and plated not one BLT but two. He handed her both and took off his apron before he spoke again.

“C’mon, its a clear sunny fall day. Let’s eat outside.”

“Outside?” Rhea was confused. The restaurant didn’t have outdoor seating. But Dean held the back door to the kitchen open and she followed. Around the corner there was a messy pile of milk crates. He set three in a row against the side of the building and settled onto one.

Rhea set the plates on the center crate like it was a table before sitting down. The sun-warmed brick of the building felt good against her back. When she picked up her sandwich, it was perfect. For a few moments, they ate in comfortable silence.

A sudden gust of wind drove a shower of yellow and orange leaves in their direction, and she laughed as she tried to keep them off her food. Dean picked one up and looked at it almost solemnly.

“I guess if the leaves are falling, it’s time for me to cook fall food. What do you think of pumpkin soup?” He turned to her, as if her opinion mattered for the restaurant menu.

She shook her head, wrinkling her nose. “Eww, no. Everything is pumpkin this time of year. I like a good slice of pumpkin pie, but there can be too much of a good thing.”

Dean smirked as if there was something funny about that before he spoke again. “What do you suggest then?”

“Mac and cheese. Nothing like good old fashioned homemade cheesy pasta. And you can do so much with it, you can make it simple or fancy, you can add veggies, you can put bread crumbs on top, plus it’s not too expensive and everybody likes it.” Her voice trailed off.

“Great idea! See, I knew you were a lady who knew her food. Plus, my brother says I make the best mac and cheese in the world. Of course, he might be biased. When we were kids, we often didn’t have anything else. So I’d do my best to dress it up, add hot dogs, marshmallow fluff.”

Rhea laughed, but Dean was dead serious. “Well, it sounds like he thinks the world of you. I’m sure you are a great big brother, although now I have some doubts about your culinary ideas.”

Dean was the one who laughed then, head back, eyes crinkled. The thought crossed her mind that he looked younger when he was happy. When his eyes met hers again, they held a question she didn’t quite understand.

“But as long as you promise to keep it a little more traditional, I’ll try anything you want to make.”

“You gotta stop doing that.” Dean held out his hand unexpectedly over their empty plates on the milk crate table.

“What?” Rhea slipped her hand into his. His palm was warm and he curled his finger over hers.

“Saying things that make me want to kiss you.”

She searched his face for any sign that he was joking, but his eyes shone earnestly and his lips curled with hope.

“What makes you think I don’t want you to kiss me, Dean Winchester?” She answered at last.

Their first kiss tasted a little bit like bacon, and as Dean brought one hand up to caress her face, the wind blew another cascade of leaves down around them.

Rhea had things to do, food to prepare and silverware to roll. She had mac and cheese to taste in the future. But that afternoon, with the sun on her face and Dean’s lips on hers, there was nothing else she wanted.

*** SPN First Last and Always: @boondoctorwho @dawnie1988 @deanwanddamons @defenderrosetyler @divadinag @emoryhemsworth @fookinghelljensensthighs @idreamofplaid @kalesrebellion @kickingitwithkirk @maddiepants @magssteenkamp @onethirstyunicorn @there-must-be-a-lock @tloveswriting Dean Curious: @adoptdontshoppets @awesomesusiebstuff @deangirl7695 @deans-baby-momma @mrsjenniferwinchester @stoneyggirl @supersassyprobablysad @wayward-gypsy @winchesterxfamilybusiness Gay Screaming: @boondoctorwho, @cherry3point14 @cracksinthewalls, @fookinghelljensensthighs @itmighthavebeenintentional, @justcallmeasmodeus, @lastactiontricia @littlegreenplasticsoldier @mskathywriteswords, @rockhoochie, @there-must-be-a-lock, @thoughtslikeaminefield

#dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x ofc #make me swoon

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