He/Him 🏳️⚧️ || Early 20s || Credit to the people of the artwork/gifs || Requests and tags are open
374 posts
Summary:Deciding To Move Out Of The Bunker And Into The Pink Palace Since The Hunts Are Now Over, The

Summary: Deciding to move out of the bunker and into the Pink Palace since the hunts are now over, the three of you do not know about the movie Coraline as the house is straight out of the movie. You’re the one that goes through the door and experience the button eyed world.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader (you, gender neutral ‘cause I can’t decide on the gender), Mr Bobinsky, Wybie Lovat, Miss Forcible and Miss Spink, Cat, The Ghost Kids, The Other(s)
A/N: I think that’s it. This is my first time writing a series here on Tumblr. I’ll do the word count and the summary onto each chapter. I think I’m gonna have you and the brothers together, I don’t know.
A/N 2: I’m also gonna have you and Wybie be the age of in the early 20s, so yeah, have fun.
A/N 3: I will update this masterlist as soon as I post the chapters.
Chapter 1: Welcome to Our New Home
Chapter 2: Today is for Gardening
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More Posts from Cuddly-dean-baby
I definitely agree that Dean is more of a “love language” guy than actually saying it.
Gifts, touch, and quality time.
Now this is making me want Dean with me right now and do that. Especially cuddles and kisses
Into The Button-Eyed World: Welcome to Our New Home

Summary: Deciding to move out of the bunker and into the Pink Palace since the hunts are now over, the three of you do not know about the movie Coraline as the house is straight out of the movie. You’re the one that goes through the door and experience the button eyed world.
Pairings: Dean x Reader x Sam Word Count: 1207 Into The Button-Eyed World Masterlist Warnings: None
A/N: Have fun and feedback would be appreaciated A/N 2: I’ll repost the masterlist once all the chapters are finished A/N 3: Tags are open
Sitting in the back of the Impala, you watch the trees zoom past. Your boyfriends’ voices are trailed out, only the wind rushing past the vehicle is what your ears are only concentrated on.
“Why are they taking so slow?!” Dean’s voice gets your full hearing attention.
“Maybe they don’t want to lose anything out of the truck if they go over a bump. Looks like from here that it doesn’t look so secure.” Sam shifts in his seat, looking at the bottom of the truck’s latch, watching it hit against the truck several times.
Dean sighs, leaning over Sam to look out his window to see no cars coming, but the house in view.
Doing a swerve around the larger vehicle, the driver honks at Dean.
“Dean,” you sigh out his name.
“What? They were taking forever,” he shrugs.
Once closing in to the house, you take a quick glance at the sign; Pink Palace apartments.
A big bellied man is spotted on the top of the roof, himself getting a fright and swearing at Dean in a foreign language as your boyfriend had honked the horn a couple times. The man walks down the roof and disappears somewhere behind it.
After some time, boxes are scattered all over the place inside the area in the house you’re in and some boxes out on the deck.
Sam gives a man with a beard and glasses a tip before him and his workmate sit back in the truck and drive away, leaving the brothers and you with the apartment.
After hours of putting things away, you decide to have a break. Standing up and moaning at the pops move through your back, the feeling of the release of your muscles popping has you sighing in relief.
You grab your jacket and slip your arms through the sleeves.
“Hey!” Footsteps jog after you with hands resting around your hips. They turn you around to be face to face with your green-eyed boyfriend.
“Don’t be too late!” Sam yells out. You wave an arm over Dean’s shoulder, expecting your tall boyfriend to see it.
You press your lips to Dean’s. “I’m just going out for a walk,” you mumbled against his lips. He hums in response, returning the kiss.
Separating from the kiss, you trot the stairs and walk towards a bush next to a gate, sticking an arm into the bush and rummaging through it to find a random stick. Wrapping a hand around one, you twist and pull at it, finally getting it after a few seconds.
Strolling through the colourless garden, you pull at the leaves, letting them trail behind you, along with a cat following you, too.
After a little bit of time, you stop on the bumpy trail as some pebbles and small rocks had made you stop. You take a glance up at the boulders sitting upon the hill.
“Hello? Is someone there?” you call out, waiting for an answer. Getting a little impatient, you grab one of the fallen rocks and throw it up to have it behind the boulders.
A screech makes your heart fasten, and your feet running the rest of the trail becomes your instinct.
Slowing down at a clearing, your chest is slightly heaving for air.
The cat perches itself onto a stump of a tree and does a loud mini roar/meow. Your body jumps at the yell, turning to see the skinny animal.
“You scared the hell out of me, you Gollum. I’m just taking a walk until you decide to follow me. What do you want?”
The wind and the rustles of the trees fill the silence.
It was then broken by a horn blaring, getting your attention to someone on a bike and has a welding mask with a skeleton painted on.
Out of instinct, you had placed your hand on where your gun would usually be - tucked behind the waistline of your pants. “Shit,” you mumble, remembering you had left your gun at the house.
The bike drives towards you, your body moving to the ground.
Mud covers a side of your body.
The person stands on the stump to what seems like they’re zooming in on you.
Taking their mask off, it shows the face of a brown-eyed, tanned male. He plays with the stick that was in your hand, rambling on about something.
He gets cut off as you had hit his leg, him yelping and holding onto his leg. He had immediately let go of the stick, you catching it.
“I don’t like being stalked. Not by psychos or their cats!” On que of the word ‘cat’, the said animal is sitting next to the male’s legs. Yours and the cat’s head are tilted, keeping each others’ eye contact alive.
“He’s not exactly my cat. He isn’t anyone’s, he’s a wild. I do like to feed him and he’d bring me dead things.” The cat receives some scratches and pats, purring at the touches.
Remembering some of the rambles he had said earlier, you say, “I’m from Lebanon.”
“Huh?”
“Kansas. And if there is a well, where is it?” You stomp your foot and your hands planted on your hips.
“You stomp too hard and you’ll fall in.”
Looking down, you see a circle of mushrooms and immediately stepping off the wobbling mud.
The man steps off the stump to move the mud out of the way. “See?” He knocks on the wood, the noise echoing down. He grabs a stick to perch the circled wood away. “If you go down and then look up, you’ll be able to see a sky full of stars in the middle of the day.”
“Huh.” You play with the mud with the toe of your shoes.
“I’m surprised that you were able to move into the Pink Palace. My grandma owns the place and said she wouldn’t really let people move in.”
“Why?”
“I’m not supposed to say.”
Then why did you say it in the first place?
“I’m Wybie, Wybie Lovat.” He has his hand stretched out, waiting for a shake. Doing so, you feel the mud on his gloves.
“Wybie?” You both retreat your hands, yours wiping against your jacket.
“Wasn’t my idea, of course. It’s short for Wyborn or something.”
“I’m (Y/N).”
“(Y/N), what?”
“(L/N), (Y/N) (L/N).”
With him continuing to ramble on and petting the cat, you hear an old voice call out his voice and a bell ringing in the distance. “I think someone was calling for you, Wyborn.”
“What?” The cat falls to his side as Wybie stands up, saying that he didn’t hear it.
“Oh, someone was, Why-Were-You-Born.”
The voice and bell call out once again, Wybie clearly hearing it. “Grandma,” he mumbles to himself. He chuckles nervously, picking his helmet and bike up. “Well, it was nice to meet a Kansas, but I’ll wear gloves next time.” He wiggles his fingers before sitting on the bike.
“Why?”
“That stick of yours,” he points at the small tree branch in your hand, “it’s poison oak.”
Immediately, it is thrown to the ground.
Blowing a raspberry at him leaving, you watch the cat look at you with big eyes before running off.
Is anyone else getting a Dean vibe from this guy from Jetpack Joyride?

Hey! I'm just wondering If is everything ok? You haven't posted in a while, and i like, really like your work, so i get a bit worried
hey! everything is going okay. im really sorry that i havent posted in a while, havent done much of your requests as i have some here, or have been posting little things.
thank you for liking my work ♥️
i guess that ive been having my moments of some things that happened at the start of the year, been having some trouble with writers block and school, and that ive been feeling a little more low.
i am trying to pass through the writers block for my own writings and for the fics as i have many gifs on my desktop and some of them have some fics behind them but it kinda seems like i cant get them down on a doc, and even if i do, i would feel like the fic isnt gonna make sense or if no one is gonna like it. but idc if anyone likes it not, i guess i just want to share some little stories and all that.
um, overall, thank you for the worrying, you dont need to, and i will get to the fics and requests asap.
Are people even aware you can comment on older fics? Like, it feels like they think they aren’t allowed or something. Remusly, it’s okay. There’s no window. You can comment on a three year old fic. Really. The comment section hasn’t expired or anything.