Supernatural one shots

The Cake [Dean X Reader]

You sat on the kitchen counter, steadily watching the oven. The sweet aroma of vanilla, honey and cinnamon sifted throughout the bunker. That's right. You made cake. Granted you knew that Dean would never eat it because he claims, 'It's not the same as pie.' But who cares in this moment? You made cake and you knew damn well that it was going to be mouthwatering.

Sam leisurely, mindlessly walked by the kitchen with his nose in a book, only to backtrack and stop in the doorway. He cast a curious gaze to you, who had been practically drooling as you continued to stare at the oven. "Uh, [Reader]?"

"Yes, Sam?" You mumbled distractedly, never tearing your gaze from your nearly completed cake. (Minus the icing.) 

"Why are you staring at the oven like it has all the answers to your problems?" He chuckled, stepping into the kitchen and standing beside you. Then it hit him, realization washing over him as the sweet smell of vanilla, the burst of honey and subtle cinnamon filled his sense. "Oh. That could be the answer to many problems."

"Right?!" You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in exaggeration. "If only I could get Dean to eat it. There's more to life than pie."

"There's no swaying him from it. So, you are SOL on that, short stack." Sam chuckled gruffly, shaking his head as he set his book down. You sighed heavily, resting your chin on your intertwined fingers as your elbows were propped on your thighs.

"I'll play him like a violin, Sam." You stated, your voice barely above a whisper. Silence only prevailed momentarily just for you to gasp softly and pull out your phone. Quickly pulling up Youtube and hastily searching for the song you wanted. "I know its really not your kind of taste, but I'm in love with this song and I'm going to torture you with it for a moment."

The electric tempo and baritone notes of the violin filled the room, Sam making a disgruntled expression at you only for it to fade when the song progressed. You swayed softly from side to side, your eyes still glued to the oven.

"This isn't actually half bad." Sam stated, his voice taking an impressed tone. He nodded his head to the beat, softly humming.

"Told you." You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "This fire in my head 's got me on edge. I'm going out tonight. Faded on a thread, don't know what's next. I wanna feel alive."  Uncrossing your legs, you slid from the kitchen counter and offered your hand to Sam. He looked to you in wonder, then shook his head.

"I can't dance." He grunted, throwing his hands up in defeat. 

You gave him a pointed glare, still holding out your hand. "Come on, Sammy. I taught Dean and I can teach you."

You paused the song, still holding out your hand for his. Sam gazed at you with uncertainly, only to melt at your pout.  With a sigh, he grasped your hand lightly. "Alright, fine. You win."

"Yippie!" You cheer, dragging Sam toward the more open space of the kitchen. You looked him over, only to look back up at him. "Take your shoes off. I learned my lesson already with one Winchester, I'm not going through it again. Shoes, please."

"We're you this bossy with Dean?" Sam muttered, exasperated. You tilted your head, pondering the memory.

"Maybe. I don't know."

"So, yes." He laughed gruffly, dropping his shoes by the table and holding his hand out for yours. You pulled out your phone and restarted the song. 

"We're gonna go back twice, left foot then right foot. Two steps to the left and then three steps forward for you, starting with your left foot." You smiled brightly at him, encouragingly. Sam laughed nervously as he did as you said. It was a little rocky, for he kept stepping on your toes.