it wasn’t the coffee machine. you were in charge of buying and refilling beans, making sure there was enough milk, enough sugar, enough chocolate powder, and cleaning it. you’d topped everything up yesterday and flushed it out last night.

what could the matter possibly be?

you stood from your desk and smoothed out any wrinkles in your blouse, and walked yourself out of the room and down the hall to the elevator. the doors opened and you stepped in. relief filled you when the elevator was empty. you pressed the number that corresponded to dean smith’s office, and waited.

very impatiently.

you stared yourself down in the elevator mirror. your hair had a few flyaways. your glasses were slightly crooked on your face. the collar of your shirt was wrinkled. shit.

you quickly made yourself presentable and spun around once the elevator dinged, signalling you’d arrived at your floor. you stepped out on wobbly legs and carried yourself down the hall on autopilot, your mind elsewhere.

you hadn’t seen mr. smith in months.

the last time you met with him, it ended with you on your knees and his slacks by his ankles. it ended in special treatment for weeks and a note left in your desk drawer to find each morning. it ended in wine over dinner downtown.

and then it stopped.

you figured hr found out. and you assumed that’s where the very disapproving email against your behaviour came from, and the radio silence from the very interested and very attractive corporate executive.

“come on in. shut the door,” his voice carried itself all the way to your ears and broke you from your thoughts. how long had you been standing there?

“yes, of course, sir.” you pulled the chair out and sat down across from him. you crossed your legs over and rested your hands in your lap. you sat stiff and awkward as he refused to say anything. he stared at you, eyebrow raised as he leaned back in his seat. tie loosened, the top button of his dress shirt unbuttoned. fuck.

“why did you call me here?” if he wasn’t going to start the conversation, you may as well. as uncomfortable as it was to see his face for the first time in months, this needed to be over with.

“well, i need a favour from you,” he corrected his posture and sat up, averting his eyes to the other end of the room.

sex? a dinner date?

“yes?” you watched as his gaze stayed averted. your fingers trembled in your lap as you watched him. his lip was pulled between his teeth, deep in thought. reminiscent of the way he sucked at your- not the time. his lips pulled into a smirk before he laughed softly. the same little mannerism he’d do before he’d kiss- no.

he finally looked back up at you, ignoring the very obvious tension in your body. your shoulders were tight, your back straight, jaw tense. he knew the exact thoughts rolling around in your head and he wasn’t one to entertain them.

“i need you to stay late on your wednesday and thursday shifts. one of the women in your office can’t do her late shifts anymore, and i need someone else to fill her place for a few weeks. can you do that?”

god, he was so calm about it. like this meant nothing to him! of course he was just going to ask you to cover a few more hours! how foolish could you have been? thinking he needed your body. thinking he wanted to rekindle whatever you two had going on.

despite the shame filling your body, you nodded, albeit stiffly, and smiled, “yes, i can do that. for how long?”

“just a few weeks. we’ll find someone new soon. you know how we are.”

god, how you’d missed his voice. his casual carelessness and dismissal of anything. how he brushed off big problems as if they were a fly he was swatting away. you missed his casual bravado, how he was so professional and unprofessional at the same time.

“yes. well, is that all?” you didn’t want this to end. this teasing and tension that only existed in your mind. you wanted to stay in this office, cling to him, beg for more. you didn’t want to hear the clack of your heels on the tile floor just yet. but, all good things must come to an end.

“it sure is, miss. you should get back to work before they start missin’ you, huh?” he grinned. the stupid, toothy grin he did to piss you off or rile you up. the one that shouldn’t reach his eyes but always seems to. the one that woud infuriate you when he’d pause between your- get a grip.

you nodded and stood, turning on your heel and leaving the room. the glass door swung behind you, and you swore you could feel his eyes on you as you left. but it was probably your mind playing tricks on you. surely.

the hours ticked by as the end of your shift crept closer and closer. there was 30 minutes left until you could leave and cook yourself a dinner that you wanted to share with dean. the office space was quieter now. 5 o’clock had passed an hour ago, and most people left to go home and cook dinner for their spouses or their children or friends.

the coffee machine hummed as someone made themself a late-night pick-me-up. keyboards clacked away and filled the busy void of your mind. the droning, boring noise blocked out any thoughts you may have had about the man upstairs.

until the landline rang again.

you stared it down for a few seconds before you broke out of it and picked it up.

“hello?”

“you looked very sexy today. i should report you to hr for wearing that.”

oh my god, it was him.

you debated slamming the landline down and slogging through the last of your shift. but maybe this phone call could pull you out of that fate. so you spoke.

“oh, there’s no need for that.”

as painful as it was, you needed to stay professional. at home, you would’ve dirty-talked him till the sun came up, but with your coworkers present, that would be suspicious.

“there might be. i heard it’s been quiet up in human resources. they’re running dry on complaints. i should give ‘em one, don’t you think?” you could hear his shit-eating grin through the phone. it was so attractive, and you’d love to wipe it off his face, but you couldn’t. and it was torturous.

“is there anything i can do to convince you otherwise?” no one would suspect a thing…

“i can think of a few things. can you?”

“i can.”

“come on, you can tell me-”

you slammed the landline down and dropped your head into your hands. you couldn’t believe it. this was happening. you composed yourself and pushed your chair back. you packed your bag up and shut down the computer that only served to burn your retinas now.

as you stood, your friend looked over, and eyebrow raised.

“i’ve gotta get home, my mum’s visiting me and i completely forgot she doesn’t have a key.”

your friend nodded and went back to their work, letting you rush out of the office. once you were in the hall, you allowed yourself to breathe for a moment. you pressed the ‘up’ button for the elevator and prayed no one saw you were headed in the wrong direction.

the doors slid open and you rushed in, quickly fixing your appearance in the mirror. you picked and prodded and smoothed at yourself, making yourself presentable for your too-hot corporate exec.

dean could hear the click of your heels as soon as the elevator dinged on his floor, and seconds later, you appeared outside the glass doors of his office. you pushed them open and locked them as soon as they shut. dean stood to pull the blinds over the glass.

you set your bag down in the seat you sat in hours prior, and turned to face dean. he smirked from his place near the door, challenging you to make the first move.

you couldn’t help yourself.

one minute, you were stood at the desk. the next, you had your arms slung over his shoulders and your lips attached to his. dean kissed you hard, hot, and rough. the kiss was sloppy and wet, open-mouthed kissed pressed to each others lips and necks. his kisses quickly found the collar of your top, and he pulled it open, revealing your lacy bra to him and the warm office air around you.

“you don’t hide your feelings well, you know that? you’re just an open book for me to read whenever i want. i just know that hr email destroyed you, didn’t it? you couldn’t hookup with little old me anymore, could you? poor you… and now look how desperate you are. can’t believe i didn’t give in sooner…”

a/n ; first supernatural post guys, are we proud 🥹. i know my page has been resemblant of a drought, but i think ive found my writing spark again. god, a lot of stuff has happened since i dropped off the face of the earth, huh? i went to japan, my mum had surgery on her finger, my daschund i’ve had all my childhood passed away, and i’ve been put through the wringer with uni. but i am back and my interests have changed, so expect to see that from me in the future ☺️. love you all 💋💋

critiques ; personally, i think i want to work on my writing again. i know that you get rusty after not practicing your skills, and thats why im nervous to post this after not writing for so long. but, if there’s anything you guys think i could work on, like vocabulary or grammar or if i should bold dean’s dialogue, etc., please let me know in the comments! its all welcome as long as its constructive criticism! thank you lovelies!!

taglist ; no current taglist for supernatural. send an ask, dm, or comment to be added! i don’t bite 😉

dividers by @saradika-graphics