Supernatural Smutshots

James Dean? No. Dean Winchester

For as long as you could remember you had an obsession with retro things. Whether it was famous movies from back in the day, or your favorite classic rock song, or even a famous movie star/icon from back in the day; you loved them.

That's why Dean Winchester was so attractive to you. From the moment Bobby introduced you two you were smitten.

You realized how much his name really fit him. He was modern day James Dean. He was sexy in a classic way. He wore a leather jacket, combat boots, and always had dishevelled hair. He looked even hotter with a classic rod, 1967 Chevy Impala.

So it was no surprise that on a certain hot day in July when you went out to sunbathe you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw that certain classic Winchester washing his Impala with no shirt on.

Your jaw dropped completely and you started to drool a bit. You had to physically close your mouth. "Come on Y/N! Get yourself together! He just has his shirt off and he's just washing the car like people do!" You scolded yourself.

He looked up just then. His eyes were a blazing green in the sunlight and it was extremely hard to look away. He smiled and waved showing his perfect pearly whites. You felt those butterflies starting up in your tummy and you thought you were going to throw up. He was perfect and entirely impossible to reach.

You weren't nearly enough for that man. He dated super models and you were barely a hand model. His perfection was on a god level.

You smiled and looked down, trudging to the lawn chair placed next the garage. You frowned at your thoughts as you laid there reading your magazine. You couldn't help but compare yourself to all those perfect women in the magazine.

You were engrossed in your treacherous thoughts until all of sudden your sun went away. You looked up through your sunglasses and squinted at the person blocking your view. It was Dean.

Your heart beat began to quicken. Oh Dean. So attractive inside and out. You yearned for him.

"Hey. Why do you look so sad? Y/N what's wrong?" he asked furrowing his eyebrows.

You laughed abruptly. "I-Uh-I don't know what you're talking about," you stuttered.

"Please Y/N. I know when you're lying. Come on you can tell me what's wrong," he said as he grabbed a near by bucket and turned it upside down to sit on. God. He was sitting so close to you. He then put his hand on your thigh and looked up at you concerned.

You let out a shaky sigh, "Dean. I don't think you'd understand. It's not something that you really struggle with."

He furrowed his eyebrows at you again and cocked his head to the side. "What do mean? Y/N. I'm not as perfect as you think I am. I guarantee you it's probably something I can relate to more than you think."

"Really? So you have a problem with not thinking you're good enough for someone?" You nearly yelled.

He looked at you shocked. It was like he didn't know what to say. "Y/N. Why would you think you're not good enough for someone? You are the most beautiful girl I have ever met. You're amazing. You're smart, you're nice, you know how to make anyone laugh or feel better. You're the whole package. Whoever this person is I bet you anything they're not good enough for you," he tried to convince you.

You laughed hysterically. He looked at you confused. You controlled your laughter. "Oh Dean. The man I don't think I'm good enough for is right here," you said shaking your head and looking down.

"What?" he said.

"You heard me Dean," you said looking at his hand. You grabbed it and started to fiddle with his fingers.