contents & disclaimers: cold-ish dean, implied age gap, mentions of alcohol, reader turns a blind eye, reader is desperate, reader is referred to as sweetheart & baby, corny writing, intended lowercase, not set in any particular season
a/n: sorry this is so short y'all-- and that it doesn't really line up with the song all too much :(.. i hope you enjoy!
w/c: 550
when you and dean met, you'd been alone for an embarrassingly long time, leading you to you be desperate for just about any male attention. so when dean sat next to you at a bar, it felt like fate. a couple of drinks turned into a "what's your number?" and that turned into... whatever you and he have now.
"he’s a player! he’s going to break your heart and throw the pieces in your face!" was what your friends told you. you tried to ignore them, but every time you'd meet up with him, your stomach would do uncomfortable flips. who cares what they say? you’d rather love him than listen to your longtime friends harp about things that happened in the past.
besides, dean is great, and as long as you ignore his questionable actions, his red flags seem to turn blue! and who doesn't love an almost green flag?? so, you really have no reason to stop loving him!
dean slams the door behind him, unlacing his thick boots and trudging upstairs. you hear the bath running shortly after the loud footsteps, and you practically skip to the bathroom. "dean!!" you call out, ecstatic to see him back. "mm... hey, sweetheart." dean replies coldly, feeling the shallow pool. you tilted your head at the sight of the bath, confused. "what’s that for?" you ask him, smiling jokingly. "i’m about to bathe, what the hell does it look like?" he pans, beginning to undress. "oh... uh... alright then! tell me if you need anything." you smile, hoping to appease him. he hums in response and gets into the bathtub.
given how he's acting, you'd think he'd come straight from rehab. after what feels like an hourlong bath, dean cracks open a beer. he sits on the couch and just watches the tv. you watch him simmer from the crack in your bedroom door, feeling like a child.
at any other time, you would’ve made the right decision and left him. but when he’s gone all the time and you’re desperate for attention, any good judgment or reasoning is filtered out. and yeah, you do know it’s careless and sort of unhealthy, but hey, at least you’re being self-aware about it; and being desperate is almost a given when you’re in love with a guy who doesn’t seem to love you back.
you sit next to dean as he sips on his third drink, swinging your legs mindlessly. you should be listening to what he’s saying, but instead, your brain is full of the warnings your friends gave you. you miss them, since you’d cut them off a couple of months prior, after they soft-launched the idea that maybe you weren’t making a smart choice by becoming so involved with dean, considering he hadn’t even labeled you as his partner yet.
"you listening to me, baby?" dean smirks, rubbing his thumb against your dorsum. “mhm!” you nod, trying to look as gleeful as physically possible. “what was i talking about then, hm?” dean tilts his head condescendingly, knowing you can’t answer the simple question. you bite your lip, feeling your cheeks heat up. he grins and ruffles your hair, going back to watching the football game on the tv. you lay your head on his shoulder, his leathery scent filling your nose.
everyone talking about this being the first year without byler hope but this is the first year where byler is no longer the property of the duffers and that's something to celebrate