my love is a mix tape (dean/lisa, past dean/jo implied) pg
for miss folie_lex from a prompt given ages ago. just a short little something.
title: my love is a mix tape
rating: pg
notes: it's a bit more dean/lisa focused and i haven't seen SPN in, like, years, so it might not be wholly accurate with timeline and whatnot. sorry?
When they move in together, Dean just dumps his things in with hers. His razor gets tucked away in the bottom of her shaving kit and his boxer-briefs make friends with her thongs and his cassette tapes are thrown onto a shelf with her CDs.
“You know, there’s probably doubles,” Lisa says, moving her fingers over the edges of the tapes. Most of the plastic cases are cracked and scratched, rescued from underneath the seats of the car. “Maybe we should go through them. Get rid of some.”
“We can do that later.” He grins, bending down to press a kiss to her neck, and says, “And we got plenty of later, sweetheart. Trust me.”
She laughs and holds his chin between her thumb and forefinger, leaning forward to kiss his mouth. When she pulls back, she taps his nose, and grabs a handful of tapes off of the shelf. He makes a noise of protest and slides one hand into the back pocket of her jeans, holds the other on the small of her back, and tugs her closer.
“You’re cute when you’re trying to get laid.”
“Then I must be cute, like, all the freakin’ time.”
Lisa gives a small sound of, “Mmm-hmm.”
“C’mon, really?” he asks. He closes his lips over her earlobe, sucking at the soft skin. “What would you rather be doing right now?”
“I’d rather just have this sorted out and not let it pile up. It’s easier just to do it now,” she says. “And because no household really needs two copies of anything by Whitesnake. And you’re not allowed to tease me about my passionate love for Journey anymore, okay?”
“Steve Perry never made a music video with a half naked chick writhing around on the hood of multiple cars. I think I win.”
Lisa responds with a smirk and Dean reluctantly lets her go, but keeps his hand on her back, his fingers tracing out song titles and band names through the fabric of her shirt, as she puts tape after tape in a pile to throw away.
“What’s this one?” she asks.
She hands him a case that has a piece of paper shoved inside along with the tape. He opens the case, unfolds the paper, and smiles at the track-listing that’s scribbled in messy, but unmistakably girlish, handwriting.
“Mix tape?” Lisa looks over his shoulder. “An REO mix tape? Dude, you’re not even allowed to mention my Journey love again. Like, not ever.”
“Um, I’m keeping this one,” he says, tucking the paper back into the case and then the case into his pocket. “Okay?”
Lisa gives him a curious, but sort of soft, smile. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”
title: my love is a mix tape
rating: pg
notes: it's a bit more dean/lisa focused and i haven't seen SPN in, like, years, so it might not be wholly accurate with timeline and whatnot. sorry?
When they move in together, Dean just dumps his things in with hers. His razor gets tucked away in the bottom of her shaving kit and his boxer-briefs make friends with her thongs and his cassette tapes are thrown onto a shelf with her CDs.
“You know, there’s probably doubles,” Lisa says, moving her fingers over the edges of the tapes. Most of the plastic cases are cracked and scratched, rescued from underneath the seats of the car. “Maybe we should go through them. Get rid of some.”
“We can do that later.” He grins, bending down to press a kiss to her neck, and says, “And we got plenty of later, sweetheart. Trust me.”
She laughs and holds his chin between her thumb and forefinger, leaning forward to kiss his mouth. When she pulls back, she taps his nose, and grabs a handful of tapes off of the shelf. He makes a noise of protest and slides one hand into the back pocket of her jeans, holds the other on the small of her back, and tugs her closer.
“You’re cute when you’re trying to get laid.”
“Then I must be cute, like, all the freakin’ time.”
Lisa gives a small sound of, “Mmm-hmm.”
“C’mon, really?” he asks. He closes his lips over her earlobe, sucking at the soft skin. “What would you rather be doing right now?”
“I’d rather just have this sorted out and not let it pile up. It’s easier just to do it now,” she says. “And because no household really needs two copies of anything by Whitesnake. And you’re not allowed to tease me about my passionate love for Journey anymore, okay?”
“Steve Perry never made a music video with a half naked chick writhing around on the hood of multiple cars. I think I win.”
Lisa responds with a smirk and Dean reluctantly lets her go, but keeps his hand on her back, his fingers tracing out song titles and band names through the fabric of her shirt, as she puts tape after tape in a pile to throw away.
“What’s this one?” she asks.
She hands him a case that has a piece of paper shoved inside along with the tape. He opens the case, unfolds the paper, and smiles at the track-listing that’s scribbled in messy, but unmistakably girlish, handwriting.
“Mix tape?” Lisa looks over his shoulder. “An REO mix tape? Dude, you’re not even allowed to mention my Journey love again. Like, not ever.”
“Um, I’m keeping this one,” he says, tucking the paper back into the case and then the case into his pocket. “Okay?”
Lisa gives him a curious, but sort of soft, smile. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”