Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY
Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH
A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)
Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)
Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles
Cruel Summer
“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”
As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.
But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.
“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.
Painfully hard.
“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.
“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.
“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”
Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.
Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.
I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.
Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.
Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.
Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.
On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.
A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.
But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.
Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.
Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.
“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.
What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.
A hunter gathering panties.
“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.
You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”
“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”
It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.
“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.
The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.
Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:
I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.
You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.
So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.
Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.
Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.
It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.
With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.
As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.
Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.
So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…
“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.
“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”
You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.
“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”
Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”
You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”
“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.
“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.
“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”
“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”
“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”
“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.
Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”
But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.
“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”
Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.
The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.
If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.
As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.
With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.
His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.
As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.
God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.
“Dean?!”
The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.
“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.
Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.
“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.
Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”
“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”
“Right, uhm…”
“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.
You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.
“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.
Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”
As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”
“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”
“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”
That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.
“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.
“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.
Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.
And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.
Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.
“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”
“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.
“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.
Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.
With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.
“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”
You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.
“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.
He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”
“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”
As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”
The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”
“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”
You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”
“Well, uhm…”
Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.
“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”
“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.
“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.
“You can do that,” you said with a smile.
“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”
You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”
Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.
“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.
You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”
“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.
“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”
“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.
He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.
You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.
“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”
Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”
Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.
With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.
“Hop on, sweetheart.”
And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.
Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.
The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).
And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.
As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.
With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.
His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.
Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.
You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.
As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.
“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.
Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”
Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?
But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”
You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.
“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.
You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”
Was it worth the words? 😝
For all you newcomers and as a general reminder, Dirty Drabbles are always open. I still have quite a few left, but you're welcome to send more in, and we'll add it to the collection at some point 😎🔥
PUT YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS HERE
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I would've loved an episode in which Danny and Dash switch bodies.
I imagine it happens because Dash is talking to Kwan about how cool Phantom is or something, and at some point he says "Man, I wish I was Danny Phantom!"
Of course Desiree hears this, she appears before him ("So you have wished it, so shall it be!"), and the next day Dash wakes up in Danny's body. Danny Fenton's body. In Danny's room.
At this point he's pretty familiar with Desiree, and he assumes she just heard him wrong, befause Fenton and Phantom do sound alike. ("Huh, how weird! How has no one noticed this before?" We hear Wes screaming in the distance as Dash makes this observation.)
But there is no way in hell that a puny little nerd like Fenton could be Dash's hero, so something must've gone wrong. He decides to find Desiree and correct his wish.
-
Meanwhile, Danny (to his horror) wakes up in Dash's body.
He assumes he overshadowed him for some reason, but when he tries to leave, he finds out he doesn't have his powers. He also doesn't feel Dash's presence in the body.
"I know i asked for a growth spurt, but not like this!"
This isn't good.
-
Dash makes his way downstairs, and is immediately greeted by Jack Fenton, who has a million chores for him.
"Come on, Danno! Those ghosts I fished out of the ghost zone with the Fenton Ghost Fisher™️ aren't gonna put themselves back!"
Before he can object he is pushed into the lab and has to fight a couple of ectopusses. This goes very badly at first, until Dash remembers the bit of ghost hunting training Danny gave him and his classmates, when they had to rescue their parents from that big pirate ship.
As soon as he's done, exhausted on the floor (Damn, Fenton really needs to work out more!), he hears Jack yelling down the stairs.
"Son, don't forget to change the ecto filtrator! You don't want Amity Park to blow up, do ya?"
More dangerous chores keep getting added for longer than Dash thought was humanly possible.
(At some point Jack gave him some fudge, which helped.)
How does Fenton live like this???
-
We switch back over to Danny, who is now looking around Dash's room. He already knew about the cute pink teddy bear collection, but he didn't expect to find what can only be described as a fan shrine to Phantom.
There are newspaper articles, pictures, merch ("Wait I have merch? How come i didn't know that? Who is selling Phantom merch?" it's Tucker), and a poster.
(the b-story of this episode is Sam & Tucker running a Phantom merch line, and trying to stop the Box Ghost from stealing all the boxes of merch.)
Danny keeps looking around Dash's room, and finding out more about him through his stuff.
At some point he finds Dash's diary. He contemplates if he should read it or not, but in the end he decides that since Dash is always such a jerk to him, he doesn't care about morals and reads it.
Reading the diary, Danny starts to feel kinda bad, because in the entries Dash actually seems human. He's insecure, and he actually struggles with a lot. He's afraid to talk about what he's going through.
His parents are very absent, and the A-listers kicked Valerie out when her life wasn't perfect anymore. He doesn't want that to happen to him.
(I personally headcanon Dash as an extremely closeted gay guy with a lot of internalised homophobia, who hasn't stopped trying to convince himself that he's straight, but his struggles could be about anything.)
After reading all that, Danny starts to feel kinda bad for him.
-
Over the course of the day ghosts keep showing up to fight or talk to Fenton, and Dash is incredibly confused by this. Also Danny must have a weird cold or something, because he's been exhaling cold air at random all day.
"I AM THE BOX GHO- Hey! Wait! Why are you running away? You never run away. You always trap me in your cylindrical contraption of doOoOoOm!" (The Box Ghost is wearing a Phantom t-shirt, and is holding a box full of other Phantom merch. After Dash runs away, Sam and Tucker appear, chasing the Box Ghost through the street, trying to get the merch back.)
Later Johnny 13 shows up to fight, because he and Kitty broke up for the 4th time this week, and he wants to let out some steam. "Shouldn't you change for our fight, kid?" Change into what? Wait he wanted to fight, right? Dash puts on his gym uniform, and boxing gloves. Johnny looks at him weird, but doesn't question it. They have a little boxing match in the backyard.
Youngblood came by to play astronauts with him, and was very disappointed that Danny didn't fly up to space with him. (Wait didn't that dead kid kidnap Dash's parents??! Also why in the hell does he think Fenton has the ability to fly?????!! And breathe(!) in space?!!!)
After finishing what seems like a billion ghost related chores (and dealing with way too many ghosts), Dash finally manages to get out of the Fenton house, and starts to look for Desiree.
-
Danny walks out of Dash's room, and runs into Dash's dad. He opens his mouth, but he doesn't seem to care about what he's going to say. "Son I am so incredibly disappointed in you." the dad starts, then continues to list all the reasons he is a huge disappointment who should try harder. "Those weird little bears in your closet!" and "Why don't you have a girlfriend yet?"
The whole interaction is horrible, and makes Danny appreciate his own parents (weird as they may be) so much.
Dash's mom also berates him about being a disappointment, because they found his Phantom collection ("He is a GHOST, Dash! He's dangerous!"), and because his grades are so low. ("What do you mean tutor? Just study harder!")
They threaten to take Pookie away if he doesn't get his shit together.
-
At some point Danny has deduced that this body situation must be some ghost bullshit, and he decides to go to Fentonworks.
Then he runs into Dash in his body, and they have a little spiderman moment
After the internal shock and "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY BODY GET OUT!"s have gone around, Dash tells Danny what happened.
Danny informs Dash that most of Desiree's wishes become permanent after 24 hours. They decide to team up to get Desiree to undo this wish before that happens.
It's noted that Dash didn't say the word "puny" or any other insult, when he says "I really don't wanna stay in your body.".
We see a compilation of Danny and Dash searching Amity Park for Desiree, and other wishes she has granted. They fight off a couple of small ghost things together.
(during this compilation we see Sam and Tucker chasing the Box Ghost around. "How is he this hard to catch?? We've done this millions of times already!!!" -"Well maybe if you didn't drop the fucking thermos!")
After the fight, Dash sighs and says "Man, I had no idea how difficult your life is, Fenton. I've only been living it a day and it sucks."
they have a little heart to heart, and Dash sincerely apologises for bullying Danny so much.
"why did you want to be Phantom anyway? I assume his life isn't that easy either." Danny says.
"I dunno, man. I just thought it would be cool to be, y'know, going ghost."
White rings appear around Dash. He turns into Phantom.
they have another moment like this:
"WHAT THE FUCK!"
"WHAT THE FUCK!"
"I"M- I- YOU- YOU'RE PHANTOM??!!!"
"NO! YES! NO TIME! FIGHT HER!!!"
Because of course, this is the moment that Desiree appears, and starts fighting them.
"I dont know how!!!"
The beginning of the fight is very awkward, with Dash not knowing how Danny's powers work, and Danny not being used to fighting Desiree without his powers.
Eventually they get the hang of it, with Danny telling Dash how to activate and use certain powers in the moment, and they defeat Desiree.
All the wishes get undone, and they suck her up into a thermos.
After that, they talk about Danny being Phantom. Danny tells Dash the story of how he died got his powers, and Dash shares some of his secrets with Danny so they're "even". (it's some stuff that wasn't in Dash's diary. Danny doesn't mention that he read that, but that can be conflict in a later episode)
They aren't friends yet, but it's a start. Now that he walked a mile in Danny's shoes, Dash feels so bad about bullying him all those years, and he starts to question his life choices. (start of a Dash redemption arc i guess). He promises to stop bullying in general, and help out Danny however he can. (He also promises to not tell anyone about Danny's secret identity.)
(The episode ends with Sam and Tucker, having finally caught the Box Ghost, only to realise that in the chase/fight all the merch got way too messed up to sell, so it was all for nothing. Tucker throws the thermos down in frustration, the Box Ghost gets free, grabs the Phantom shirt he wore earlier, yells "BEWARE!" and flies off. Sam sighs and gets ready to start chasing him again, but Tucker stops her. "I give up. Let him have the fucking shirt.")
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