Said, I Was Sorry

The urge to count rice is strong

these freakin guys

My wife, even better

Summary: Dean can’t stop talking about you, his wife.

Word count: 0.5k

A/n: Not really any use of Y/n, but it is pretty cheesy. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. ;)

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“And she has theses eyes, wow.” Dean let out a sigh, his own eyes practically in the shape of hearts as he continued to talk to the bartender. “I mean, look, if you’ve ever seen them, then you could see all these different shades mixed into one. It’s awesome.”

The bartender just nodded her head, the damp rag moving quickly back and forth on the counter tip. “Mhm.” She hummed, not even listening to what the love struck man was even saying. 

“Plus, the way she talks is so beautiful, if I were to listen to one sound the rest of my life it would be her voice.” 

“Yep.”

The bartender then turned her back to the man, trying to focus on her work and not on the man that had been rambling on about you since he sat down. With nothing else to do Dean just let his eyes wander through the bar, catching his brother and you talking to a few people about the case that you were working on. 

Dean played with his empty beer bottle, watching as the light reflected off the glass. His thoughts wandered over to you, not that they weren’t on you to begin with. But, he thought of how just days ago you were his simple girlfriend, how you and him used to tease and flirt with one another before you were officially together. 

And now, now you were Deans forever. Til death do you part, in both sickness and in health. You were his wife, and he was your husband. The thought made a smile drift onto his face and warmth creep up the back of his neck. 

“Hey,” You suddenly said from behind the man, dragging him out of his thoughts. “Sam and I have some intel on the case.”

Dean quickly turned back to the bartender in front of him, who had her hands busy with cleaning the glasses and counter for the night. “What did I tell you?” He asked her, dragging her away from her work. “The voice of an angel.”

The bartender gave a quick nod before getting back to work, not even sparring the two a second glance as she walked away. You hit Dean with the back of your hand, not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough to let him know that he needed to focus. 

“I told you to stop that.” You gently scolded, your ears slightly turning pink. “Nobody wants to listen to you talk like that.”

“But, I want to.”

“And that’s amazing, D.” You pulled his hand in yours, giving it a tight squeeze. “But, not everyone wants to hear about our marriage.” 

“But, how could I not tell the world about you?”

You gave him a light peck on the cheek, pulling him off the bar stool and towards the exit. “Do you know how cheesy you sound?”

“Very, but I love you.” Dean quietly told you, leaning down to give you a kiss on the lips. “And I want the world know that, my beautiful wife.”

“And I love you, my gorgeous husband.”

MC: Bro-

Sylus: No, no, hold up, rewind.

Sylus: My tongue was down in your throat just a second ago and now you're calling me bro??

Found this quote and it suits this one SOOOO BAD.

Privacy privilege

Summary: Dean had started to invade your privacy more often after a hunt

Word count: 0.8k

A/n: I had some fun writing protective Dean in this one

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The last hunt was too much of a close call for Dean. 

It’s been a simple vampire case, a in and out kind of deal. But, when you slipped up a little and were almost a vamps blood bag, he felt a need to protect you immediately afterwards. The thought of you ending up dead while on a hunt with him caused an itch in the back of his brain. Something he needed to get rid of or at least settle down. 

So, he began to follow you around.

It started out simple enough, sitting on the same booth as you at a restaurant, watching you through the rear view mirror on a long drive. And, recently making you share the same bed as he did. The feeling of your body safely tucked against his calmed him. 

But, then the more hunts you went the more worried he got. 

The feeling that something would happen to you if he wasn’t around caused him to panic and start to hang around you more than ever. 

What started as a simple watching you from the corner of his eye quickly turning into needing to be right next to you 24/7. He’d follow you around like a lost puppy, eyes darting around to find any potential danger. 

You’d spoken to Sam about Deans behavior, and he had agreed that it was new and different than what he normally is. But, according to Sam, Dean is naturally a protector at heart. Probably coming from being the oldest and having to take care of his little brother all the time. 

But, still, you appreciated Dean trying to protect you, but he had started to invade you privacy. 

Often not leaving you alone when you’d really need to be. Kinda like right now. You were taking a shower in the motels bathroom, the water cascading down your body when Deans humming kept on bringing you out of your peaceful state. 

You didn’t really know when he entered the bathroom, but when he did you know it was no use in trying to kick him out. He sat patiently on the toilet, the lid down so that he wouldn’t ache from sitting in the same spot for twenty minutes. 

A small magazine rested in his hands, the sound of the turning papers mixing with his humming caused you to finally stick your head past the shower curtain. 

“Dean.” You called, in the nicest voice you could muster. Slowly growing tired of his protective attitude. 

“Yes, princess?” He asked, the magazine he’d been reading tossed onto the counter as he focused solely in you.  

Pasting a quick smile on your face, you pulled the curtain closer to your naked body. “Could I have just a couple minutes to myself in here?”

Dean furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“Because, it’s kinda weird how I’m naked in here while your out there fully clothed and humming a rock song.” You stated, hoping that telling him you were slightly uncomfortable with the situation would be enough for him to leave the bathroom. 

“Would you like me to join you then, so you’d feel less weird about this?” He asked, standing from the toilet seat and making his way towards you, his flannel quickly coming off and into the piles of clothes you’d already made. 

“No! No, Dean.” You started to shout, more than likely grabbing both your neighbors and Sam’s attention whilst doing so. “Put the flannel back on and get out!”

“Why?” He asked confused. “I’d have my back turned the entire time, or if you want I could even help you shower-“

Dean stopped talking when a soft but wet object connected with his face. “Did- did you throw a loofah at me?”

“Yes, and I’ll throw something harder next time if you don’t get out of here!” Your face was hot, and not just from the boiling shower you were taking but because Dean freaking Winchester was trying to hope in the shower with you like it was a normal thing. 

He held up his hands, reluctantly making his way to the bathroom door. “Look I get that it’s weird, but it’ll help protect you.”

“Dean, I’m not going to die in the freaking shower.”

“Who knows, it’s a strange world, but I’ll be here if it happens and I’ll be able to-“ His eyes widened as you made an attempt to throw your soap bar at him, missing him by a hair and sending him running out of the bathroom. 

A breathy laugh came from one of the beds, facing the noise he saw his brother with newspaper articles and his computer laid out in front of him. “I told you she would not have appreciated you going in there.” Sam told his older brother, a smug smile playing in his lips as he watched Dean taking a seat at the small table. 

“Shut up.” He told him, now waiting for you to leave the bathroom so that he could be glued to your hip once more. “She’s gonna thank me one day.”

“Yeah, but definitely not any time soon.”

dwayne + being sweet and/or a dork

Nothing. And I mean NOTHING. Can ever out hot the carousel scene from The Lost Boys

Dawg gone-it!

Summary: Dean isn’t too keen on how close you and a stray have been getting lately

Word count: 0.6k

A/n: NO HATE AGAINST ANY DOGS!!! We love dogs, and Dean loves dogs, just not the one you’ve been getting close to

A/a/n: Y’all I just got done with the first set of workouts this summer, for school. And OMG it literally killed me, I don’t know if I can do this all summer.

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Dean had always loved dogs. Ever since he was a little boy all the way to the burly man that he currently was, his heart had always had a special spot for the canines. 

Until, you had rescued one from a hunt. 

A week. Minimum. That’s how long you and the brothers had agreed to keep the animal until you found a rightful shelter. Seven days with man’s best friend, living and traveling in the back of the impala with them. 

A simple week, Dean would’ve loved that.

Yes, he would’ve loved it, if all your attention hadn’t stayed solely on the dog. 

It was everyday that you’d get up early and walk the animal, Sam often joining in his jogs before he would take a different route. And, Dean was fine with you getting the dog some exercise, what he didn’t like was you leaving the warmth of the motel bed to do so. Leaving Dean yearning for the feel of your body in the early mornings. 

And it wasn’t even just that. No, no, no. You’d had given the dog your leftovers one afternoon. Right in front of Dean too. Knowing well enough that whatever you didn’t eat, you’d always hand over to Dean. 

But, it shouldn’t bother him, no. Dean could go with out your morning embrace, your leftover Chinese that Dean tried his hardest not to tell you that he was waiting patiently for. 

No, what really bothered him more than anything, was when you called that dog your ‘pretty boy’.

Dean was your pretty boy. It was the nickname that you’d donned him with, he loved that special little name that you’d picked out for him. 

And out of all the names that’s what you’d called that slobbery animal, that’s what you called him. That dog, who’d slowly been taking you away from Dean ever since he was found out in the streets. Who’d been stealing you away from him for the past few days right under his nose the whole time. 

Dean couldn’t prove it, but he knew that the dog was doing it on purpose. 

He knew that the dog would give him a satisfied smirk, every time he’d turn his back on you and the animal. He knew what he was doing and he was playing you like a damn fiddle. 

You currently sat on your and Deans motel bed, an old hay brush passing through the dogs tangled fur as you gave him sweet praises. Dean sat behind you against the headboard, muttering under his breath all the things you’d say in a mocking tone. 

Not that he was trying to mock you, but you’d fallen so easily in the dogs trap that you could no longer get out. It was kinda hard not to. 

“Good boy.” You whispered to the dog, placing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “The goodest boy.”

Dean could see his tail wagging from his position, body moving with each sharp wag. 

Suck up. Dean wanted to say to the dog, not that he won’t when you leave the room. But, for now he’s happy with the one sided argument that he’s winning against an animal. 

You then placed the hairbrush on the side of the bed, hands coming to pet the dogs now soft fur. Gentle praises leaving your mouth as you then began to scratch behind his ears. 

Dean stared at the sight before him, wishing that he’d be the one that you’d run your fingers through his hair. Telling him how pretty and handsome he was. “You never do that to me.” Dean muttered softly.

“What?” Thankfully, what he said never truly meeting your ears. 

“I said he’s very obidient.” Dean replied louder, watching as a small smile formed on your face as you agreed. Your attention returning back to the animal, completely missing the sour look he gave the dog. 

God, he couldn’t wait til this dog was gone. 

☆彡He’s a D*ck, So She’s Tess?

Bill Dickey x Reader

Summary: A new girl transfers to Eltingville high and Bill writes her off as another bimbo who’ll hardly look at him. Until he spots her Dick Tracy comics. He’s in over his head after that.

TW: literally all kinds of misogyny. This is Bill Dickey we’re talking about. I might’ve made him a little nicer than usual, but that's just because I think if he was ever with a girl he had a real chance with he’d be too shocked to actually be an asshole. At first at least.

“Captain, are you alright?” buzzed a serene voice from Bill’s radio.

He set his phaser rifle down and sends a transmission over, “I’m alright, sweetheart. I’ve always got things under control.”

He puts a hand above his eyes as he surveys the area. He had just landed on an unknown planet with his crew of bombshell broads. The power cell on his phaser rifle was fully charged and he still had some kiss marks from the crew.

He was ready to conquer any potential threats.

The ground beneath him was hot and sand-like, but firm enough to act like gravel. There wasn’t much he knew about this strange planet. The sun was much stronger out here, and it was evident on the ridiculous amount of sweat that had begun accumulating on him. These damn Starfleet uniforms weren’t made for this kind of weather. Fighting against the glare of the sun, he squinted for some sort of sign of life.

He had been wandering for quite a while, and yet he hadn’t seen a single moving thing beyond the particles of sand he kicked as he walked. Sick of the overbearing weather, he sighs and gets ready to head back.

Until he spots it. Not too far in the distance is a figure. Immediately back on alert, he lifts his rifle and stomps toward it. The form gets clearer, but the shine of the sun prohibits him from seeing much.

It was a girl, that much he could make out. Oh.

It’s a girl.

A smirk immediately plasters itself on his face as he holsters his rifle and confidently walks forward. He would never miss an opportunity to add another fine woman to his ship.

When he feels close enough he puts his hands on his hips, “Need any help, princess?”.

The figure stays quiet. He puts a hand above his eyes in an attempt to shield the sun. He still can’t fully see her and it’s really starting to get on his nerves. Part of her ankle comes into view, which is enough to satiate his impatience, for now.

He could tell that she was wearing a loose dress. What kind, specifically? How was he to know? He didn’t care for that girly bullshit. It was short enough for him to see her beautiful legs. While his eyes hungrily raked over them, he noticed that she wasn't wearing any shoes either.

“What the hell?” he muttered, furrowing his brows. He motioned toward her feet with his hand, “how aren’t you fucking melting out here?”.

As if at the mention of it, he suddenly realized just how hot he had gotten. His sweat was leaving pools in his uniform and he felt much, much weaker. His vision wavered as he tried to keep his balance. He looked back up at her but the figure was gone. Before he could search for her, the alarm on his ship started to blare. His head shot up and turned to see the emergency lights shining. He reached for his radio but it was gone.

It was then that he realized just how close the sun had gotten. Way too close. And way too fast. And somehow it was getting even closer. Fuck. He abandoned any visions he had for the girl. She was probably ugly anyways. He had more than enough women to keep him company onboard. He realized if he wanted to keep his crew and his life, he needed to head back immediately.

He dropped his rifle and ran for his life. The sun was moving impossibly closer and his skin felt like it was burning up. As he neared the ship, his heart dropped at the sound of the engine starting. It was going to lift off without him!

Had even his beautiful crew decided to abandon him?

His despair was interrupted at the sight of the figure from earlier. The girl was alive. And on his ship.

She stood on the edge, holding her hand out. Bill could hardly breathe as the sun overtook half the sky and his skin ached. Yet, he kept running. He would be damned if he let his ship of beauties leave him to die like this.

As he neared the ship, he heard the girl scream at him to jump and it gave him one last kick of energy. As the ship lifted, it kicked up a flurry of sand that blinded him. Moving blindly, he jumped forward as she caught his hand. She held onto him as the spaceship lifted and he dangled by one hand. He looked down as the planet below him burst into a grand ball of flames. The flames seemed to get closer and closer and closer till—

He woke with a start.

Panting and sweaty, his eyes were wide open. He immediately groaned and threw his hand across his face. The sun was beating down on his face through his curtains, and he felt like he was back in his dream. Another stupid dream about imaginary women, and this time he doesn’t even get to see the damn broad. He can even still hear the stupid alarm. Wait. Alarm? Christ, it’s his alarm. He furiously rubs his eyes and sighs. If he’s tardy again, that’s his 4th absence of the month. He’ll get another call from the attendance office and his bitch mom will ground him right on time for the Star Trek marathon on Friday.

He quickly rose, staggering toward his drawer. No brushing or washing today, not like he cared for it usually. He shoved the first shit he could find on and walked to the bathroom. His clock glowing an angry red as he walked past. 7:30. Fuck, not even enough time for a morning sesh. He shoved his porn mag to the side and walked right up to the sink. Splashing cold water on his face, he ran his hand through his hair. Eh, good enough. He slipped his bag on and hurried out the door. What a shitty start to the day.

—----------------------------------

There was one thing he would never get over. He was on his 4th year of high school and there was one question he could never answer. Why was everyone so fucking loud in the morning?

A pack of stupid broads in the corner, laughing and huddled together, throwing glares at the rest of the class. The nerdy, but boring freaks at the front. The sounds of zippers and books slamming as they prepped for class unusually early. Try-hards. Deep laughs hit like nails on a chalkboard in front of him as he watched the meathead jocks shadow box each other and leave a whiff of axe body spray as they moved. At the very front sat his old hag of a teacher who was probably too close to a retirement home to hear a damn thing anymore.

He sighed, trying to look away. Sat in his usual seat, it felt like he never woke up as the bright sun hit him right in the eyes as he turned. He dropped his head into the safety of his arms. Between the usual chatter and the blinding light, he felt like his head would explode. So caught up in feeling like shit, he hardly noticed the new silence.

Shifting in his now unusually loud seat, he finally caught up to reality. Slowly lifting his head, his eyes followed the still class to the front of the room.

There was a girl.

With the glare of the sun, he could hardly see more than her outline. He shoved his hand up like a shield, and finally, he saw her clearly.

Had he died and gone to Valhalla?

Surely, he died in his valiant dedication to fandom and was finally being rewarded for his efforts. With a heavenly glow surrounding her, there stood the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. His eyes raked her top to bottom, from her shining eyes to her shifting feet. Christ, she was a wet dream reincarnated.

As his jaw hung slightly open and his eyes stayed glued to her form, he finally noticed his teacher motion her forwards. There was movement from the girl’s beautiful lips. Only it was too late. He had no idea what she said and she was walking right toward him. He forced his jaw to close and stood up in his seat slightly. Don’t wanna look like a pussy. He gulped as she got clearer and prettier. There was an empty seat next to him and he was certain she was gonna take it.

Visions overtook him of suavely talking her over as she laid her head on her hand, looking at him with the most desperate fuck-me eyes.

He’d hand her a pencil, maybe an eraser too. She’d flutter her lashes at him and laugh at his jokes. She’d put her hand on his shoulder as she laughed and she’d follow him as class ended right to the band room. He didn’t even take band, but he heard from Josh that kids got up to some freaky shit in the closets over there. He’d undress her slowly and– Nope, can’t think that far right now. Think of something else.

As his hopes soared, they were smashed into the fucking ground with the force of Mjölnir as she turned left. Oh, Fuck off. The stupid popular bitches were waving right at her, motioning her towards them. Just like that, he knew it was over. He felt like the world's biggest moron. Every bitch is the same, he knew it. He dropped his head in his hands again. It was going to be a long morning.

The bell brutally tore him from his nap and he immediately scrambled to get out. He speed walked toward the bathrooms, aching to get his one moment of peace going over Pete’s "Sci-fi’s Hottest Whores" scrapbook he made with magazines he stole from the supermarket. Obviously, hanging out by the bathrooms that had an air of shit from the broken plumbing wasn’t his favorite, but it was the club’s only safehaven from bullies. He felt his tense shoulders relax as the club came into sight. As he nodded towards the boys and set his bag down, Jerry asked him how he was doing.

Bill groaned and his eyes narrowed. Jerry immediately regretted asking, but Bill already began his (first) rant of the day as he opened his leaky lunch bag. The club all brought their own lunches to school. They knew better than to go to the lunchline, where they’d get robbed before they even got a glimpse of the food.

Bill ate and spoke at the same time, dropping crumbs everywhere. As he got to the part where he saw the new girl, he set his sandwich down and paused his messy bites. “I’m telling you, she was the most beautiful bitch I’ve ever laid eyes on. I almost bent her over my desk and took her right there,” he grumbled as Pete raised an eyebrow and smirked.

Bill sighed and looked down, “For a second, she looked just like the girl in my dreams. I really thought I had a good premonition going on there.”

Josh was scarfing down his mom’s meatloaf, not entirely interested in the conversation. “So?” he muttered through his mouth full of food.

Bill slammed his hand down as he continued, “She was walking right to me! Till the stupid cheer whores motioned her over. And of course, she took the bait. Just like that, the love of my life is gone.”

Pete rubbed his hands along his knees, ”She might not be yours, but if she’s that hot she might be mine. Send her my way, ya’?” he smirked.

Bill sent him a deep glare, “Over my dead body. She won’t want your shrimp dick, freak.”

Josh laughed, again with his mouth full, “Like she’d want yours. She’d need to be Bionic-1 to see a thing on you.”

Jerry sighed, “She won’t want any of ours if she joins cheer. She’s gonna get passed around the jocks like a football.” He fumbled through his magic cards, trying to sort his sliver deck. He was half listening to the conversation, too distracted by the task in front of him.

Bill kicked the cards right out of his hands, “Don’t say some shit like that around me. You got a cuck fetish or something?” he sneered.

Jerry scrambled to pick up his cards, now definitely too distracted to listen to the conversation. Bill hardly had an appetite after that, realizing how right Jerry might be. He shoved his sandwich down his bag and wiped his hands on his pants. He took Pete’s scrapbook from Josh’s hands, “Gimme that. Like you can see it over your fat fupa,” he grumbled. Josh protested for it back but it fell on deaf ears.

______________________________

He hadn’t thought about her again for the rest of the school day. Once he was free from hell, anything school related trickled right out of his mind. He was walking out the main gate with the club, arguing about the X-Men Age of Apocalypse comic that made a totally bullshit turn in his opinion. His day had seemed to finally even out.

With a gentle breeze flowing through the trees and his jacket tied around his waist, he felt much lighter in the moment. The clumsy steps of the group against the pavement was all he could hear as he passionately continued his rant. He had just finished slapping Jerry across the head and cackling with Pete when a movement in front of him caught his eye.

He almost bit down on his tongue as he realized who it was. He felt a sudden lump in his throat and didn’t even notice the pause in his steps till the rest of the group were a few feet ahead of him.

It was her. She was walking in the opposite direction as the group, straight toward them. He stood in the middle of the path and anyone with an ounce of awareness in the moment would notice that he was in her way. Luckily, he was the dumbest motherfucker in the world at the moment. He failed to move out of the collision course and her gaze was too busy with her bag as she fumbled to get something out.

She rammed right into him and they fell with a thud.

He took note of her heavenly scent before anything else. It was almost good enough to distract him from how much of a fool he had just made out of himself. He didn’t have much time to ponder over it though, as he sat up on his knees and noticed her bag’s contents littered along the ground. His eyes lazily raked over the pile in his daze.

Until he spotted it.

If he was dazed before, he felt on the verge of a stroke now. His blood rushed to his head and his heart thundered like it would burst out of his chest. He started breathing manually as he felt himself break out in a cold sweat. His hands fumbled at his sides in a desperate attempt to ground himself.

Comics. Not just any comics. Not the stupid, girly romance kind. Dick Tracy comics. It didn’t take a detective to realize what that meant. As if his body was moving on its own, his hands shakily picked up the comics and he turned toward her.

The angel rubbed her shoulder as she looked up at him with a small smile on her shiny lips. Her eyes were soft and glittered as she looked at him. At least he thought so.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking at all,” she said sheepishly.

Her voice felt like warm honey and the light seeping through the trees enveloped her in a beautiful glowing frame. Her head tilted and he felt as if he could see the gears turn in her mind. “We have a class together, right? I remember you,” she said with a smile.

At his newfound discovery that he had just gone mute, she continued. “I remember you because of your Magik shirt, I think you’ve got good taste.” His mind short circuited as he looked down. He had no memory of even picking it out this morning and it was slightly stained… wait, how did she know who Magik was?

He felt like he was going to pass out and struggled to find his voice. It cracked as he choked the question out, “Are these yours?” he questioned as he held out the comics. Her eyes widened and she quickly reached out for them.

“Oh fuck, yeah, those are mine. Hope I didn’t scratch them up, they were in mint condition when I got them,” she said as she squinted and flipped them around to inspect them.

And he was a goner.

He smiled at her. A real, albeit shy, smile. Maybe he had never woken from his dream after all.

Still in amazement, his thoughts stumbled out of his upturned lips, “You’re heavy.” She tilted her head at him with a blank expression. Oh. Wait, fuck. “I. I meant your bag. It looks heavy. Ya need help?” he stammered as his face burned.

She smiled softly and nodded “Yeah, thanks.” She dusted her knees as she rose, “so, you like Dick Tracy too?” she asked.

He nodded, suddenly growing uncharacteristically shy. Fuck. How the hell do you talk to girls? He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants as he rushed to pick up the rest of her things. It was the only thing he could think to do as his mind scrambled to think of a pick-up line. Should he tell her he had a 10 pack of condoms ready if she could handle it? He wiped the thought from his mind, he didn’t even know where to get condoms or how they worked. Although, obviously she liked him if she was keeping up a conversation with him for this long. Maybe it was worth looking into. He hurriedly stuffed her things back in her bag before putting it on. Was he seriously gonna carry a girl’s bag for her? He looked up, ready to protest.

His words died on his tongue when she held her hand out and smiled at him. Christ, l need to see her in some erotic cosplay. As his shaky hand touched hers, he felt like he was born again. Her soft skin made his heart throb and he felt like he just came down with a fever. I’m touching a real life girl. His knees felt weak as he attempted to rise. Any issue he had with carrying her bag was gone.

He’d kick a kid into oncoming traffic if she asked, as long as she’d keep touching him like that.

____________________________

Unbeknownst to Bill, his friends stood frozen in place a few feet away. The club was too shocked to do anything but watch. A cold, eerie feeling washed over them all. A girl being nice to Bill. And Bill being nice to a girl. They’ve got to be in hell. The world has to be ending. Someone’s gotta call the fucking police.

“What the fuck,” muttered Pete.

Jerry stood slack jawed and Josh hadn’t even noticed he dropped his brand new Superboy comic.

A cold breeze carried their silence. Yet, Bill had never felt warmer.