For theatrical_muse
"You've woken up as the opposite sex this morning... now what?"
"Dean."
Dean mumbles something into his pillow and reaches around to swat away Sam's hand. "Go away, m'sleeping."
"Dean, I really think you need to wake up."
Dean grunts but there's something a little wrong with it, it's higher and huskier than before, but he figures it's those tequila sunrises catching up with him.
"Dean, wake up."
Dean rolls his eyes, turns around to slap Sam's hand away and is all ready to snap his head off but then he notices his hand, what the fuck?
He swallows and then takes the obvious next step, which is to look down and sure enough he has breasts and so what if he screams like a little girl and falls off the side of the bed?
Holy fucking hell. "I'm a woman!" Dean's eyes are wide under unbelievably long lashes and ridiculously long lengths of dirty blonde hair. "Holy fucking hell, Sammy. I'm a woman!"
"I noticed that." And Sam, the fucker he is, is trying not to laugh.
Dean is not amused. Very not amused. Dean gets to his feet and quickly covers his chest because as a rule male Dean tended to sleep shirtless. He reaches one hand down and fists it in his boxer shorts that are barely clinging to the voluptuous female curves and narrow hips. This is so fucked up.
Dean slams the bathroom door shut just as Sam breaks into a fit of laughter and turns to confront his very female self, and this is so wrong. He can still hear Sam laughing.
"This isn't funny, Sam!" And goddamn it should not be that high. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He confronts himself in the mirror and yeah, he'd totally do himself but that isn't the point.
He stalks out and shoves his way past Sam, latching long slender fingers in the remnants of his male clothing and he pulls them on, not giving a damn about how they hang off him.
"We're gonna find somebody to fix this," he asserts before leaving the motel room. He'll probably laugh about this later, much later.
Muse : Dean Winchester
Fandom : Supernatural (Misc TV)
Word Count : 346
"Dean."
Dean mumbles something into his pillow and reaches around to swat away Sam's hand. "Go away, m'sleeping."
"Dean, I really think you need to wake up."
Dean grunts but there's something a little wrong with it, it's higher and huskier than before, but he figures it's those tequila sunrises catching up with him.
"Dean, wake up."
Dean rolls his eyes, turns around to slap Sam's hand away and is all ready to snap his head off but then he notices his hand, what the fuck?
He swallows and then takes the obvious next step, which is to look down and sure enough he has breasts and so what if he screams like a little girl and falls off the side of the bed?
Holy fucking hell. "I'm a woman!" Dean's eyes are wide under unbelievably long lashes and ridiculously long lengths of dirty blonde hair. "Holy fucking hell, Sammy. I'm a woman!"
"I noticed that." And Sam, the fucker he is, is trying not to laugh.
Dean is not amused. Very not amused. Dean gets to his feet and quickly covers his chest because as a rule male Dean tended to sleep shirtless. He reaches one hand down and fists it in his boxer shorts that are barely clinging to the voluptuous female curves and narrow hips. This is so fucked up.
Dean slams the bathroom door shut just as Sam breaks into a fit of laughter and turns to confront his very female self, and this is so wrong. He can still hear Sam laughing.
"This isn't funny, Sam!" And goddamn it should not be that high. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He confronts himself in the mirror and yeah, he'd totally do himself but that isn't the point.
He stalks out and shoves his way past Sam, latching long slender fingers in the remnants of his male clothing and he pulls them on, not giving a damn about how they hang off him.
"We're gonna find somebody to fix this," he asserts before leaving the motel room. He'll probably laugh about this later, much later.
Muse : Dean Winchester
Fandom : Supernatural (Misc TV)
Word Count : 346