Summary: Dean gets hit with a curse and you’re the only person that he can talk to.
Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Cas, OC George
Word Count: 2922
Warnings: swearing
A/N: The prompt was “I’m pretty sure there’s a law against removing your pants in public."6Please respect copyright.PENANA8d10LRtvER
6Please respect copyright.PENANAyaLFwBL4ig
You worked on the new mannequin all day. You were tired of the faceless weirdo ones the store had been using forever so you made a bet with George; if the real-looking one got more attention he’d let you make more. You knew exactly how you wanted him to look; tall, sandy brown hair, full lips, and green eyes. You sigh to yourself as you think of him; the man from ‘that one hot summer’ in college a million years ago.
That night you drive to the store ready to work on the new display with George.
“Here’s the new mannequin,” you say setting it down.
George looks him up and down. “Mmm, maybe you can make me one.”
You laugh, rolling your eyes. “I’m gonna start setting up.”
“Ok, I’ll be there in a bit.
You pick it up and walk over to the window, your thoughts occupied with the next display. You stand the mannequin up looking him over. He really is perfect, you think to yourself as you pick out a hat to put on him.
“What the hell?”
“Holy fuck, what?!” you scream.
The now-alive mannequin is gripping your shoulders, “Where am I? How did I get here?” the tall, gorgeous, used-to-be mannequin asks. “Wait, Y/N?”
“Dean?” you pause, catching your breath. “I’m hallucinating. All these late nights have finally made me crazy,” you mumble. “The most vivid hallucination ever,” you say touching his face.
“Hey,” Dean says touching where your hand just was.
“How are you alive?”
“Uh, what? I am alive! How did I get here?”
“Dude, I hate to break it to you but you were a mannequin about ten seconds ago.”
“A what?”
“A mannequin, see,” you gesture around you, “storefront window, clothes.”
He looks down at what he’s wearing and a look of disgust and surprise crosses his face. He starts to undo the button of his pants.
“And, I’m pretty sure there’s a law against removing your pants in public,” you say, holding up your hands.
“Well, I’m not wearing these, sweetheart.”
“What? These are great, they’re the latest-”
“They’re shorts.”
“Yeah, it’s summer.”
“I don’t do shorts.”
Just as he’s about to pull them down he turns into a mannequin again and George walks in. Taking in the mannequin half undressed and you, he stops short.
“Y/N, sweetie, I know it’s been a while since you got laid. And I know this mannequin is special to you and all, but c’mon, this,” he points at the two of you, “making it look like he’s undressing for you? You need to get out more.”
“I didn’t-” you splutter.
He buttons the shorts back up as you try to think of something to say. But, ‘no really, George, this mannequin just came to life and started undressing’ isn’t going to work. Best not to say anything.
“You know George, I think I’m good to handle the display on my own tonight. Why don’t you head home?”
“Whatever you say, just don’t get any splinters,” George laughs.
“Shut up!” you say throwing the hat at him.
As soon as George is out of sight, Dean is alive again.
“What the fuck?” he asks looking down at his shorts. “What just happened?”
“You turned into a mannequin again.”
“I need to sit down,” he says dropping to the floor. “And can I please have some different clothes?” he asks with his head in his hands, the distress rolling off of him.
“Sure, what would you like?”
“Jeans, a shirt, a flannel,” he says looking up at you with his perfect green eyes.
“That’s a shame,” you say looking over his amazing physique, “you look good.”
Surprised, he looks down at himself while you go to find him some different clothes. Guessing his size, you grab what he asked for and he smiles at you as you come back with the clothes in your arms.
“It’s nice to see you again, by the way,” he says pulling off his shirt.
“You too,” you say looking down because your face is hot and you know you’re blushing.
You quickly turn around as he changes into the clothes.
“Much better.”
Your breath catches as you turn around taking him in. His bowlegs fill out the jeans perfectly and the sleeves of his flannel are rolled up revealing his almost scandalous forearms. A little sigh escapes your lips before you can catch it. You cough hoping you covered it up, but you notice a smirk tugging up his full lips. You quickly change the subject.
“So, Dean, what do we do now?”
“You got a cell phone?”
“Sure,” you say reaching into your back pocket and handing it over.
Dean dials a number stepping away from you. You hear bits and pieces of the conversation, Sam, the words witch, and curse. But you’re sure you misheard them. He ends the call and walks back over to you handing you the phone. You continue working on the display as Dean vacillates between watching you and pacing back and forth. Two hours later, you’re almost done when your phone rings. You don’t recognize the number so you hand it over to Dean.
“Hello? Ok,” he says ending the call. “That was Sam, he’s parking the car and then we’ll-”
“Dean!” a large man rushes into the room.
Dean is a mannequin again.
“What the hell? Dean?”
“Uh, yeah, so he does that if anyone besides me is in the room.”
The large man turns toward you.
“Sorry, I’m Sam. And you are?” he offers his hand.
“Y/N, we met once before,” you take his hand and shake.
It’s gigantic and you feel like a doll in his grasp.
“Though I think you’ve grown since the last time I saw you.”
“Oh yeah, Y/N and the birthday girls! That was a long time ago,” he laughs. “How are they doing?”
“Great as always,” you chuckle. “I bet they’d love to see you again,” you cock an eyebrow at him.
He blushes, “Y/N will you tell him that I’m gonna call Cas? And we’ll work on this and keep in touch?”
“Sure, but don’t you just want to take him with you?”
“If you’re the only one he can be around and still be himself I’m gonna leave him with you. I doubt he wants to be inanimate while we’re figuring this out.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry, I hope this doesn’t inconvenience you too much.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“And can you give him this?” Sam asks to hand you a phone.
“Sure.”
“Thanks,” he says then he leaves.
“-be out of your… hair?” Dean ends his comment in a question, looking around. “How did you get over there?”
“Your brother was just here. Apparently, I really am the only one who can see you when you’re human.”
“Son of a bitch!”
“Sam said he’s gonna call Cas and they’ll work on it and that you should stay with me since I can see you and you stay, you know, animated.”
“Are you ok-?”
The sound of rustling feathers fills the room.
“Dean, I-” a voice sounds out from behind you.
“What the fuck?!” you whirl around.
“I apologize; I hope I didn’t frighten you. I thought maybe the curse wouldn’t work around me.”
“Uh, who are you and where did you come from? Did you say curse?”
“Yes, my name is Castiel. I’m an angel from heaven.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Heaven.”
“Ok, this is all getting too weird for me. I think maybe you should-”
“I need to get to Sam. Take care of him.”
“-take him,” you finish just as Dean animates again.
“-with that?”
“Huh?”
“Are you ok with that?”
“Ok, with what?”
“Was somebody just here?”
“Yes, an angel? Cas, from heaven. What the hell have you gotten me into?”
“I don’t know what I’m in myself, sweetheart.”
“Well I’ve got to finish this display and then get home, so if you don’t mind,” you gesture to the other mannequins and clothing strewn about.
“Sure, what can I do?”
An hour later the display is ready, though your new mannequin won’t be there, and you head home.
—-
“Sorry, I’ve only got the couch.”
“No problem, sweetheart.”
“So,” you start, sounding more awkward than you intended. “What’ve you been up to since the last time I saw you?” you ask sitting down on the couch.
Dean laughs sitting next to you.
“Well, what’s it been? Ten years? Been up to a lot. As you can see I don’t live the most normal life.”
“Yeah, I think you told me you were in, oh what was it?” you tuck your leg under you as you think. “Pest control?”
Dean chuckles.
“Yeah, real creative.”
“What about you? I see you’re doing what you said you wanted to do.”
You look at him skeptically.
“You remember what we talked about Dean?”
“Oh, sweetheart, I remember everything about that week,” he says keeping his eyes on yours.
You bite your lip as you recall everything about that week too.
Dean leans in and your entire body flutters at his nearness. His hand cups the side of your face, thumb gently caressing your cheek. Closing your eyes, you move forward, his soft lips find yours and a rush of heat flashes through you. You’re just about to part your lips when the sound of feathers breaks the silence and suddenly Dean’s lips are hard and solid.
“Uh, excuse me,” Castiel says looking up at the ceiling.
“Hi, Castiel, what’s up?” you ask, straightening up.
“Sam wanted me to check in with you to make sure you’re still ok with Dean staying here.”
“Yeah, it’s fine, thanks.”
“Ok, I’ll tell him.”
Castiel is gone once more. You look over and for a split second Dean’s making a kissy face in the air before he opens his eyes. You can’t help the laugh that bursts from your mouth.
“Someone was just here,” Dean says annoyed.
“Yes,” you say breathing deeply, trying to stop the laughter. “Cas, Sam wanted to make sure I was ok keeping you around.”
“And are you ok with that?” he searches your face.
“Yes, of course, you’d be all alone otherwise,” you hold his gaze. “But I think I should go to bed. I’ve got extra pillows and blankets. I’ll bring ‘em.”
After you get Dean settled on the couch, you crawl into bed. Your mind decides to torture you, replaying your time with Dean ten years ago and the kiss you just shared. Eventually, exhaustion wins out and you fall asleep.
—-
You wake to sounds in the kitchen and the smell of coffee. You pad out of your room to find Dean sitting at your kitchen table drinking coffee and talking on the phone.
“I don’t care-” he stops talking when he sees you.
“Morning,” you yawn and stretch. “Any coffee left?”
“There’s a whole pot, sweetheart,” he winks at you.
Your whole body flushes and you’re thankful that you aren’t in his line of sight.
“Sam no. We just need to find the witch and gank ‘em. I’ll talk to you later,” Dean says, ending the call.
You pour yourself a cup of coffee before sitting down next to Dean.
“Was that your brother?”
“Yeah, he and Cas haven’t found any leads on the witch who hit me with this curse.”
“And this is the kind of stuff you deal with every day,” you say sitting in the chair next to him.
“Yeah, welcome to the madness,” Dean smirks bringing his coffee cup to his mouth.
Suddenly you hear the now recognizable sound of feathers and Sam and Castiel are standing in your kitchen.
“Y/N, how’s everything going?” Sam asks.
“Things are good, but I have work again tonight.”
“We’re having trouble figuring out just who put this curse on Dean. It may be a few days. Do you think you could get some time off work? It would be easier if we could go back to Lebanon.”
“I’ll have to check, they don’t really like last-minute stuff,” you hedge.
You’re not really sure you want to drop everything and drive three hours to stay with a guy you slept with for a week ten years ago. But you look over at Dean, frozen with the coffee cup at his lips, a thin line of the brown liquid slowly dribbling down his chin; you wouldn’t wish this existence on anyone.
“Ok.”
“Really? Thanks, Y/N,” Sam grips your shoulder.
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and you notice how tired he and Castiel both look. And they’re gone again. Dean pulls his coffee away from his face, wiping his chin.
“I take it Sam was just here, so what’d he say?”
“He wants us to go back to Lebanon until we figure this out.”
“Are you ok with that?”
“I mean, it’s not ideal, but I’d want you there if the situation were reversed.”
“You don’t have to though, I’ll be fine.”
“Dean, I’m going. If I can get off work. Speaking of, I need to go in tonight. You want to come with me?”
“Sure.”
You walk in carrying Dean and George gives you the eye. It was an awkward car ride and conversation because anytime you passed someone Dean would turn back into a mannequin. So you turned on some music instead. You walk into your office putting him down next to the desk you and George share.
“Mmm, I thought he was supposed to be in the display, Y/N,” he says cocking an eyebrow.
“Yeah, about that, he’s not ready yet.”
“Really? He looks ready to me.”
“You can’t rush an artist’s work, George. Also, I need to take the rest of the week off,” you say squinting and pulling up your shoulders.
“Y/N you never take time off, go for it, I’ll be fine here for the week.”
“Really?”
“In fact, since you were here last night on your own, get out of here.”
“Ok, thanks, George!”
“No problem sweetie, I’ll see you next week.”
You and Dean head back to your place to pack before driving to Lebanon.
—-
Four hours later you arrive at the bunker. You insisted on driving so you’d have your car. Sam has set up a room for you. The bunker is amazing and you really want a tour of the place. After you change into your comfy clothes you walk down the hall and into Dean’s room. He’s just ending a call; they decided to strictly use the phone unless it was an emergency.
“They think they know who did it and what the curse is,” he says looking up at you.
He stops, staring at you, and you reflexively look down to see if you have something on you. He quickly looks back to his phone. You walk over to his bed, curling your legs under you as you sit down next to him.
“What’s the curse?”
“Some kind of love curse, it’s meant to torture someone whose soul mate is dead. The person can only be animated alone or with their true love.”
“So the curse only allows your true love to see you? How is it I can see you?”
“I don’t know,” he brushes the question off. “I told them they must have the wrong curse.”
He takes a drink from his beer when there’s a knock at the door. Beer begins dribbling down mannequin-Dean’s face as you scramble to work it out of his hand.
Sam crosses the room, kneeling in front of you. “Listen, Y/N the witch that put this curse on Dean thought that his soul mate was dead. But if you can see him…”
You start to feel dizzy.
“I need to sit down.”
“You’re already sitting, Y/N,” Sam scoots closer to you. “I told him my suspicions just now but he shut me down. I have the right curse I know it. We need to either kill the witch or the cursed person and their soul mate must confess their love. That’s the only way the curse will be broken.”
You think about the nights with him. Maybe you did fall in love with him. But it was just summer love. And it’s not like he fell in love with you, did he? Sam looks at you with his hazel puppy dog eyes.
“Don’t tell him I told you.”
“What should I tell him, then?”
“Just tell him we came in to make sure you were ok with the room we made up for you.”
“Ok.”
Sam pats you on the shoulder, then he and Cas leave the room.
“Son of a bitch!” Dean yells.
“Yeah, sorry,” you stifle a giggle. “Sam and Cas came in just as you were taking a drink.”
Dean stands, pulling off his shirt. You bite your lip as his chest, torso and arms come into view. He walks over to his drawers taking out another black shirt and pulling it over his head.
“So, uh, I was thinking about turning in for the night,” you say looking everywhere but at the half-naked man in front of you.
“It’s only 8 o’clock Y/N, you sure you don’t want to watch a movie or something?”
You chew your lip. You have too many thoughts zipping through your mind. God, he’s hot. Sam thinks we’re soul mates. God, he’s hot. Fuck it.
“What were you thinking?”
A smile breaks out over his face. Maybe a witch won’t have to die to break the curse, you think to yourself.
ns 172.70.100.181da2