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#dare i tag this Dean Winchester?
peppers-ghost-posts · 2 years
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In the first episode of You Are What You Love Marissa Tandon and Lauren Grace Thompson explain that the reason young women love Dean Winchester is because they identify not with the successful, emotionally intelligent women they see in media, but with the emotionally challenged fuckups represented in media, who are generally men.
To complete the fandom cycle: 
I, who falls into almost the exact same demographic as Kat from That Vampire Show (created by Marissa as an exploration of fandom), find Warren to be a more interesting character. 
Why? Because Kat’s angst hits too close to home. I can’t enjoy angst about college applications and parental expectations, because I’m neck deep in that hellhole IRL. But Warren? A guy who at his best sucks, who’s ruined his best relationships for his career, and who is probably about to commit copyright offences on AO3. That has nothing to do with me. That’s angst that feels good to consume.
I’m feeling brave, so @tandonshows, bracing for impact, and I hope this goes down better than Kat’s attempt at communicating with the creator of her favourite media.
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youchangedmedestiel · 3 months
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So apparently it has been a year since I started this blog/joined Tumblr, according to Tumblr itself.
And today I got inspired so I draw. I hope you'll like what I did. I'm very shy about this, I considered giving up multiple times because it wasn't perfect. And there is a lot of amazing art out there. Plus, it has been more than a year since I draw something and even before that it was years ago, anyway I'm out of practice so I'm not so confident about my drawing skills anymore.
I never know when I should stop adding or deleting a pencil stroke. But whatever, even if it's not great I have nothing to lose, and this goes for everybody (maybe I'll inspire someone else to get back to drawing or even start doing so for the first time).
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It's a pic from my phone so the quality is what it is, sorry. I also didn't have a pencil sharpener with me.
Anyway, here's my little sketch book that I should fill and the pic that inspired me:
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solarcas · 2 years
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Cas saving Dean from Hell, as seen on SPN 4x01 Lazarus Rising, totally and absolutely canon (2008, colourised)
Based on my own tags on this post by @chapeldean <3
[Open for better quality!]
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shinelikethunder · 1 year
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my other hot take about s11 is that the midseason fics where "Castiel" seduces Dean and everybody except Lucifer has a real bad time are hot, but the world is sorely lacking in versions where Sam walks in on them and Realizes, immediately or eventually, who it is
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charcubed · 2 years
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I keep seeing posts that are like "interpretations of bi!Dean and gay!Dean are equally valid!" and I used to be like, sure, straight!Dean is definitely wrong but beyond that, see him how you want, who cares.
But now (esp after the Last Call script) I just don't understand the gay!Dean truthers? I follow quite a few on sm, and when I initially followed them I was like "they accept Dean is queer, that's good enough for me." But now they're really starting to get to me and it's not really worth arguing about to them, but I wanted to rant to you about it, cuz you get it.
The script literally included "gorgeous women" in the bar. Dean has canonically been sexually AND romantically attracted to women. He's based off THEE bisexual Neal Cassady.
Like I'm not really trying to defend m/w relationships (lol) but why do even queer ppl insist on erasing his identity when it's so clear? Why do they have to take that away?
Gay!Dean in AUs is one thing, but in the actual, textual canon of the show, Dean is bi. And no, gay!Dean and bi!Dean are NOT equally valid interpretations. And I don't think I'm an asshole for saying that 🤷🏼‍♀️
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Sorry it took a few days to get to this. Work and life have kept me busy and tired!
Unironically and non-sarcastically, Anon, I'm glad you've seen the light and seem to understand this topic more now. You are, of course, entirely correct. And you're not an asshole for saying it either.
I'm going to take this opportunity to answer your (potentially rhetorical) questions, and also bounce off of you and lay some stuff out about this topic in general at length for the first time–despite the fact that it may turn me into public enemy #1 again. I am already hated for non-combatively voicing these facts on Twitter (this thread tends to be considered one of the "ground zeroes" of the nonexistent "debate" lol), but I have avoided being dog-piled on Tumblr so far, so... fingers crossed I can miraculously keep it that way!
My hope is that anyone who is predisposed to taking this topic very personally just moves on instead of attacking me (or subposting me?) for any of what I'm about to say. I'm also not forcing anyone to read this, before anyone's like "that's way too many words" or "it's not that serious lol."
I do think this topic is important. I've made the decision to publicly spell out why. And if anyone doesn't want to read it, that's their prerogative.
To your questions, Anon:
I think a lot of this comes down to a fandom-wide problem (all fandoms recently, not just SPN) of not understanding the difference between headcanon and canon, the dimensions as to why that distinction does have its uses and its necessity, and the value in both. I'll get into this later.
But in this fandom specifically, based on observation and lengthy conversations I've had with a dozen long-time fans who are my friends... I personally think it's maybe a new dimension of viewpoint that's branched out from a holdover of "all interpretations are valid" being the party line people have clung to a very long time. (That’s also true in other fandoms, but I think it’s especially true here.) It's a form of solace people don't want to deviate from. No one wants to be seen as or feel like the ~jerk~ who's ~invalidating another person's view of canon~ in response to someone else's knee-jerk reaction of hurt. This is a fandom with early-2000s cultural baggage and context, where people dealt with feeling like the "crazy fangirls" who shipped Destiel and dared to call out queer subtext. Misha's "You're not crazy" tweet exists for a reason. I do feel like a lot of well-meaning people–aside from misunderstanding or being ignorant to the analytical roots of this topic and why they absolutely matter–just know what it feels like to have their thoughts on queer content in a show feel "invalidated," and they don't want to be perceived as doing that to other people. And/or: they’ve felt invalidated before (in this fandom or others!), and so they’re hypersensitive to anything they perceive as doing that to them again, especially if they tied personal identity into the projections they’re making onto the media they enjoy.
I understand that people don’t want to seem ~mean~ or make waves. I also don't want to seem mean or be mean, which is why I try to be as clear as possible whenever I talk about this and I never go after people directly (or interact/reference any of the many subtweets from people who openly talk shit about me. haha). But the facts shouldn't be seen as "mean"; they are simply facts. And yes, they absolutely matter.
Because the thing is... none of the above has any bearing on the nuances of the topic at hand, the indisputable fact that Dean is bisexual in canon and that claiming otherwise is erasure, and the truth that none of this should be seen as a threat to people's headcanons. 
These are all things that people should understand, and I will not apologize for knowing that and saying it. Misunderstanding this–making the false claim that “all interpretations of Dean’s sexually are equally valid as long as you see him as queer”–is an act of bisexual erasure in this context, and it often (unintentionally!) plays into biphobic talking points. And yeah, in my opinion, that’s something people should care about because it’s worthy of both personal and fandom examination. It is, in fact, why “representation” matters at all.
Let’s not kid ourselves: the bulk of this fandom-wide discourse is about Bi Dean vs Gay Dean. So, y’know, that’s the bulk of how I’m going to address it to just get it all out there.
Right out the gate, let me clarify this: I am not saying–now or ever–that those who are self-proclaimed “Gay Dean truthers” or argue that “Dean being gay in canon is a valid interpretation” are deliberately coming from a place of malice and the intent to contribute to bisexual erasure. By all means, I’m sure most aren’t! Nonetheless, intent does not equal impact. I’ve even seen people say “I’m a Gay Dean truther and I’m bisexual, so how could I possibly be contributing to bi erasure by arguing for Gay Dean?”  But in this situation–as in any other–no one is immune from unwittingly perpetuating harm, even including bi people. And it’s important to understand why that is.
“Interpretations” are not opinions, not all are equal, and they do require some level of skill. This is not a personal attack, or a moral judgement on anyone, or somehow a threat to people’s enjoyment of a favorite character. It is just fact.
Gay Dean is not a valid possibility in canon. There is no lens that justifies an argument of it with canonical basis. I have to break down why, in order to sufficiently express why claiming otherwise is a harmful position to take, so bear with me.
(No, this is not an invitation for a Gay Dean truther to treat this like a “debate” with me or waste time writing out a counterargument. Please just exit the tab if you’re somehow here battling that urge.)
For someone to say that Dean is gay in canon, here is an incomplete list of what has to be erased, ignored, or explained away:
• His sexual attraction to, romantic love for, and relationship with Cassie.
• His sexual attraction to, romantic love for, and relationship with Lisa (whether or not one thinks she was ever the ~ultimate love of his life~, attraction and love were present.)
• His stash of and enjoyment of porn that includes women, which is referenced many times.
• The moments where he was seduced by a female-presenting monster.
• Each and every time he made a reference to or joke about his attraction to women.
• Any fling he ever had with a woman on screen, and the enjoyment he had in the process.
The man is canonically sexually and romantically attracted to women, and he has acted upon that and even enjoys that about himself in wildly diverse contexts. It is a blatant part of the text of the show. (The fact that we are at the point where this is somehow a main point of contention rather than his attraction to men does make me feel a tiny bit insane, to be honest.)
Now, in my experience (which I don’t claim is comprehensive!), the people who argue for Gay Dean tend to explain ALL of this away under some form of universal umbrella of Dean being “performative,” a variation on compulsive heterosexuality they ascribe to him. The claim or explanation tends to be that Dean was performing a mostly-faked attraction to women based on his father’s expectations and outward pressures he received in the culture of his life. Moments are often cherry-picked out of context to support this “reading.” 
Who is Dean supposedly performing FOR, even in the moments where he acts on his attraction to women when he is alone? How does this explain his significant relationships with women like Cassie and/or the legitimate visible enjoyments he received from those interactions, as well as his flings with women throughout the show? How does this explain things like the Last Call script, where Dean is very clearly written as attracted to “gorgeous women,” a factoid that is not only very clear on screen but also (of course) written in literal black and white?
(There are no sufficient answers to these rhetorical questions. Once again: please do not waste time trying to give me any.)
And what evidence are Gay Dean people using for comphet or performative Dean? The “evidence” is often a misread of canon, pointing towards the consistent theme and false goal presented in the text of the show of characters’ efforts to strive for an “apple pie life,” aka a heteronormative ideal family. Gay Dean people misrepresent what this theme and through-line in the show is actually about, which is the totality of learning to accept your life rather than striving for something ill-fitting, that what you need and want need not be mutually exclusive (family life including fulfilling romance + hunting life can coexist), family is what you make of it and how you define it, and there are no true limitations on what all of this “should” be. While these themes are inherently queer, they are not about narrow performances of masculinity, femininity, or sexual identity, but about making space for ALL forms of all of the above–AND about identifying what it is that one wants and thinks they can’t have.
Namely, for Dean, that’s a version of settling down in a life that fulfills him in every direction, with an open and honest mutual relationship with the person he is in love with. This latter point would be true whether Cas was a man or a woman (though the fact that he is a man of course adds further dimension of interest to the story). Dean doesn’t think he can have a romantic relationship / family that lasts, and by later seasons that yearning is a key part of his character. The times it didn’t work out for him weren’t because those other people were women, but rather because the “lesson” he internalized from traumatic instances of loss is that hunters don’t get to do ~the love thing~ or get the settled down life. This is stated in the text of the show multiple times, and that’s also why Dean seeing examples of hunters who made any kind of balanced life work (especially masculine queer hunters like Jesse and Cesar) is pointed and purposeful. To say it’s about comphet instead (with no sufficient canon evidence that supports that) disregards a key point that’s central to Supernatural’s story, and in my opinion it disregards it to its detriment.
For Dean’s journey in particular, it is about freedom from limitations of structure, and knowing that he contains multitudes. The things he got from John–loving classic rock and loving his car, for example–are no less core joyful parts of Dean simply because they originated from his father. Dean can love classic rock and still occasionally love a Taylor Swift song, for example. He can love cowboy movies and manly movies, and also enjoy chick-flicks. It’s the idea of learning that there are no limitations, not that masculine interests are not inherently something he loves for himself or that aren’t important parts of his identity. It’s an expansion to openly include more, not a switch or a narrowing. The same applies to his sexual attraction and his queer identity. He can be attracted to cowboys and bikers, and also be attracted to gorgeous women. Him being attracted to / loving women does not mean he cannot and does not feel attraction and love for men; likewise, him being in love with a man does not mean he wasn’t and isn’t attracted to women. 
(“Last Call,” as an episode, exists in part to drive the totality of these points home, and emphasize that Dean’s attraction to men is something he’s known about himself for most of his life and acted on previously. So is most of the queercoding and queer subtext applied to Dean–which is specifically coding him as bisexual. His attraction to men is sometimes established or made clear because it echoes his attraction to women, etc. etc. Dean’s canonical attraction to men is a whole other post.)
So here we come to why saying otherwise and trying to shoehorn a comphet narrative onto Dean in canon is harmful:
Aside from the fact that to claim Dean’s joyful attraction to women is performative is to cut out chunks of the story and is thus not supported by canon, and it relies on making assumptions about and projecting onto the text… unintentionally or not, the implication is that bisexuality is not queer enough, or that being gay is somehow “queerer” and thus more compelling and a preferred concept, and that attraction to different genders is a heterosexual / straight trait requiring removal. No one is queering a text in a more revolutionary way or unlocking a ~secret good Supernatural~ by making a bisexual man into a gay man. That’s simply not how this works.
“Preferring” an argument for Gay Dean in canon requires explaining away or misreading all of those moments Dean has with women, essentially replacing them with trauma or suffering or discomfort that–in my observations–also sometimes rely on stereotypes of gay men. It also involves potentially preferring to twist them into behaviors Dean must have universally put himself through not out of genuine joyful desire but at minimum because he felt like he “should” or at maximum in an attempt to “fix” his “gayness,” even when no one was watching. And it points to the pressures Dean experienced about living a life that fit him fully–pressures that exist not just in his world, but also in our patriarchal world and society–and it implies that queer people can’t authentically experience attraction or love to someone of a different gender, because maybe they’re actually just “performing” the heteronormative ideal. As in: a “visually queer” relationship is the end goal, right? For Dean, that’s an m/m relationship... so surely m/f matters less, or maybe it can’t be a genuine and significant part of a queer person’s life.
Once again: I do not think any of this is intentional on the part of Gay Dean truthers, nor do I think it’s done with malice. Nonetheless, these harmful biphobic viewpoints permeate these conversations and misconceptions when people say these arguments are valid.
There is no canonical basis for explaining away all of Dean’s moments with women, and the story does not provide or point to any kind of cohesive narrative reason to do so. YES, people absolutely experience comphet in real life, and those experiences are valid and exist. YES, real gay men can and do sleep with or have nuanced romantic relationships with women before realizing they’re gay later in life. No, that does not mean that’s how analysis of a fictional character in a fictional story always works, especially in regards to a story built over time like Supernatural’s unique approach and the way it was molded to place queerness and specifically bisexuality at the core of Dean’s story.
Ascribing comphet to Dean in canon–or making any other insufficient justification for explaining away his attraction to women–is personal projection. And yes, it is bisexual erasure.
This is not a position fueled by personal hurt for me, as I would say the same here whether or not I was personally bisexual. It is an acknowledgement that these conversations don’t exist in a vacuum, and that’s something everyone should care to understand. I know what comphet storylines look like in fiction, and I know they are worth defining as such, and in other fandoms I even defend that very loudly. This is not the case here, and to say it is requires mental acrobatics that are objectively unsupported by canon... and invariably insisting otherwise perpetuates one of these harmful biphobic viewpoints whether or not one realizes it.
To say Gay Dean is a legitimate read of canon–which it is not–supports people who are erasing his varied sexual and romantic attraction to a different gender simply because they’ve decided they want to ignore that. “I like the idea of Dean being gay” does not mean that he is gay in canon, and writing meta to that end is a problem. It’s not an invalidation of someone on a personal level or some weird variation of homophobia to say that, and I do think people should maybe examine why they seemingly like the idea of him being gay more than him being bi, or why they staunchly defend it (or any other “different queer reading”) as a possibility. 
I understand there may be the urge to be like “is it that serious” or “this is just a CW show,” but to that I would say… then why are we all here?
Clearly, most people do still care about queer representation on some level and understand that queer subtext is present and acknowledge that Dean isn’t straight... hence the origin of this new prevalent concept of “as long as you say Dean’s queer then it’s fine.”
But in any piece of media, the text is the text is the text. The text can also be compelling, and fascinating, and contain value whether or not it’s an exact reflection of you personally as a fan and as a person. Sometimes there is arguably even greater value in being able to find reasons to relate to the humanity of a character or in a story even though elements differ from who you are personally. It is an exercise in empathy, and it is a pillar of why humans tells stories to each other to expand our viewpoints, and it sometimes results in examining the sources of that empathy. It’s why “representation matters”: not just so we can see ourselves, but so we can see others, and find reason to empathize despite differences. There’s unquantifiable power in that, and it’s also why the diversity of queer experiences and identities should be championed and acknowledged both in fiction and in reality, not turned into a monolith. Our solidarity amongst our individual queer differences and identities is our truest version of strength and authenticity. We are not all exactly the same, and that’s a good thing. When care is taken to specifically convey that in fiction, it is worth not only acknowledgement but also defense.
So: do we or do we not care about why representation is important, and why these sorts of conversations should exist at all? About censorship of queer storylines, and diversity in the queer community, and solidarity in differences? About bisexual men, a vastly underrepresented group in fiction, and the specific censorship that affected Dean’s bi story accordingly? And about how these viewpoints people can place onto fiction through fandom-wide conversation–like implying Dean is ~queerer~ if you say he’s gay, or that you’re somehow sticking it to the CW and “straight culture” if you suggest he’s gay–can influence biphobia that translates into ways people see bi people in real life?
In other situations even in this fandom, people understand the value of diverse queer experiences. No one would dare to say that “you can argue Charlie is bisexual in canon because as long as you say she’s queer it’s fine.” Charlie is a lesbian. It’s very, very clear, and she shows and states that she is only attracted to women. Dean’s attraction to women in canon is equally clear, and is part of his bisexuality. Why is erasing that defendable?
Look: it is people’s God-given right to write whatever fic they want about “what if” variations of Dean’s sexuality through a different lens. It is not their God-given right to make things up about canon and call it analysis.
It is a universal truth that fandom is always going to take canon and mold it into other versions that they love, for their own personal reasons and in ways that have value to them. That’s why transformative works like fic exist, and it’s why fandom is awesome, and I’m glad people use aspects of their favorite stories to tell other inspired stories that are of personal significance to them. But the word transformative is used for a reason: it’s an alteration of canon. It’s not a bad thing or a personal attack on people to say that.
There is a difference between understanding canon and writing actual meta / analysis of the show, and writing AUs for ones own enjoyment and fulfillment. (This is true on AO3 or on Tumblr/Twitter. I often see posts that are positioned as “meta,” but again, are just cherry-picked weirdness.) These differences are important, as is understanding how headcanons and fic affect surrounding conversations and fandom perceptions. And this fandom seems to have a very big problem with understanding the difference between these things, while taking it extremely personally in a negative way when people try to explain why the difference matters.
Confusing analysis and transformative fandom does a disservice to both, and denying the value in the former is not only a form of anti-intellectualism but also removes some of the beauty in the latter. If we can’t distinguish and differentiate between canon and headcanon, we can’t discuss the value in understanding the canon, nor adequately discuss the artistic value and power in creating derivative variations from it in personal ways. Both are different, both are equal, both are vital, and insisting the distinction is needless hampers conversation across every space. And nowhere is that more true than when one is discussing queer representation and queer censorship, like in the case of Supernatural. Again, why are we here? Why do we care? You cannot argue for and discuss the problems of censorship sufficiently if you don’t understand what was censored–and in Dean’s case, that was his love for Cas and his bisexuality.
I leave you with this (probably unneeded) analogy:
Imagine Dean’s a zebra.
(Sorry, EDS community; not that kind of zebra.)
People are trying to say “Dean is a black and white hoofed mammal <3″ and well, that’s accurate, but that doesn’t mean him being a zebra isn’t its own unique thing. A whole bunch of people are looking at him though and saying “well I prefer to say that Dean’s a black and white horse,” because they like that viewpoint better. Close enough, right? A black and white horse is basically a zebra, right? And then there’s the people who are like “I think Dean’s a cow!” and it’s like, okay, no idea where you came from, but whatever.
The point is that those are all entirely different fucking things. They’re different animals. Someone wanting Dean to be a black and white horse doesn’t make him less of a zebra. Pretending otherwise is absolute nonsense.
This debate/discussion/discourse is equally nonsensical. That is the logic (or illogic) that applies here.
Just because Dean is “queer” doesn’t mean any queer categorization underneath that umbrella suddenly equally applies.
Dean is bisexual. And he is “queer” because he’s bisexual.
Those are the facts. 
And for the love of God, please... I really don’t think I’m an asshole for saying it.
So, to whoever made it this far: please do me the courtesy of not hating me for it or trying to bait me into a fight. 
I’m tired. Thanks.
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EDIT: Couple of good additions!
•  @doctorprofessorsong added some good details about how some of these harmful biphobic concepts translate to real life, and real things that bi people struggle with.
• A lesbian anonymously sent in her perspective as someone who enjoys gay Dean headcanons/fic and agrees with this post, and agrees that the fact that Dean is bi in canon is important.
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prettyboynatural · 2 years
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I will remember the first time you kissed me—you apologized—you said, I am sorry, destroy me as I am, but I want to kiss you before I am killed, and I said to you why, and you said, because I have only once met someone so utterly willing to burn for what they believed in, and I loved him on sight, and the first time I died I asked of him what I now ask of you
I kissed you and later I would kiss him too before I understood what you were, and all three of us lived to regret it—but when I am in heaven I will remember your mouth, and when you roast down in hell I think you will remember mine
Tamsyn Muir, Harrow The Ninth
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deandonna bi4bi couple they are so full of smiles and sunshine to everyone else but alone they are batshit insane and absolutely deranged about it. they love each other because they both get to actually be themselves with all the performance gone and the masks down. donna saw dean's cheeky grin and recognised the look of pretend in his eyes immediately as the one she wears every day, and she thought 'oh i want to get underneath that'. all through s10 while dean has the mark she is twirling her hair kicking her legs and then dean sees her grinning covered in blood after killing her first vamp and something in him just breaks at the sight of her. they have the wildest sex and are both so so kind to one another and go on the most feral hunting sprees together and they're just. dean and donna <333
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maxwinchxster · 2 years
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mmm coffee <3
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zepskies · 6 months
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Smoke Eater - Part 15
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Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   
AN: Thank you as always for the lovely responses on the previous chapter! It was a long one, so thank you for sticking through with me. We're about to lighten up a little with some Christmas spirit! ❄️🎁
**Also, if you're a fan of The Boys (and Soldier Boy), there's an awesome book you can check out, called Supes Ain’t Always Heroes: Inside the Complex Characters and Twisted Psychology of The Boys.
If you want to learn more about the book (including cast interviews and a character study on Soldier Boy), I wrote a review about it here!
Otherwise, on to some more firefighter!Dean!
🔥 Series Masterlist
Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, fluff, tinge of angst, hurt/comfort, lots of feels.
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Part 15: “The Good Part”
“How many damn arrests does that make?” Daniel asked. He gripped his pool cue with both hands while he leaned on it.
His son stood at the other end of the pool table, lining up his shot. He paused to think.
“Six,” Nick replied. His cue released, and it knocked two of his balls into the pocket.
“Six,” Daniel repeated, while Nick came his way to find an angle for his next turn.
Daniel shook his head. His lips were angrily pursed. His eyes might’ve been on the pool game, but he was playing chess in his mind. He had underestimated John Winchester for far too long, it seemed.
The man was stubborn as all hell. And he’d been busy lately, getting “Azazel’s” men busted for all manners of bullshit.
“Alastair’s mole says Winchester’s been calling in favors from his old friends in Narcotics, trying to bust our small fries,” Nick reported. “Getting them on everything from petty theft to drug possession, with intent to sell. But it’s nothing we can’t pull ‘em out of.”
“Time, money, added risk,” Daniel cited on his fingers all the reasons why John Winchester was a pain in his ass. “It’s only a matter of time before they get a warrant to rip apart Savage & Co., sweep the whole damn building. For forensic evidence, our files, all the jazz.”
Daniel’s fingers drummed thoughtfully against his chin. “A damn cop thinks he’s being cute.”
Nick missed his second turn. His hand fell against his thigh in annoyance, but he looked up.
“Dad, it’s your move.”
Daniel rubbed at his chin. His eyes were no longer seeing the board in front of him. Eventually, they slid up and met his son’s gaze.
“We’re going to start from the beginning,” he said.
Nick’s face gave away his confusion. “What? What do you mean?”
Daniel just smiled.
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It was Christmas Day, and John was late. Sam and Dean were used to that drill, so they weren’t expecting him until dinnertime.
Meanwhile, it gave you a chance to find your footing as you got to know Eileen. She had helped you bake the pies that were now cooling on the counter (pumpkin and berry crumble), and a few of the side dishes for dinner. Sam had covered cleaning up the rest of the house, while Dean tackled his favorites: the ham and the mac and cheese.
Now the guys were in the living room watching football while you and Eileen were still in the kitchen, decorating some gingerbread cookies you two had made. She enjoyed it; doing holiday crafts with her students had been bringing out her artistic side, she told you. You were happy for the help and the conversation.
You later tried to cover up your snort of laughter as she finished telling you the story of how Dean once dared Sam to wear women’s underwear for a whole week.
If he managed it, Dean had promised to do all the household chores for three months. If Sam couldn’t make it the whole week, then he would face the consequences: Dean would tell their dad about the bet.
“How old were they?” you asked.
Eileen scoffed. “Sam was a senior in college.”
You burst out laughing again. “So too old, is the answer… Did he win?”
Eileen gave you a mischievous smile.
“He did,” Dean said, as he appeared in the kitchen doorway with a familiar smirk. “I’ve got photographic evidence. It was a cheetah print thong, in case you were wondering.”
Your eyes widened on a laugh. “Oh my God.”
Cheetahlicious, you couldn’t help joking in your mind. Even if you’d rather not think of Sam wearing a pair of Victoria Secret’s best.  
Eileen giggled with you. Dean’s amusement gave way to curiosity as he eyed the little gingerbread men you two were icing. You warned him off with your eyes, but it took Eileen batting his hand when he tried to steal a cookie.
“Hey! Wait ‘til after dinner,” she said.
Dean pouted. “Come on, don’t be stingy.”
Rolling her eyes, Eileen sighed.
“You’re like one of my kids,” she said, while signing with her hands. But she caved and handed him a cookie. “Here. To tide you over.”
Dean smiled and signed back to her in ASL, Thank you.
“That’s why you’re my favorite,” he said. He leaned down to kiss her cheek in a brotherly gesture.
He shot you a wink before taking a bite of his prize. You shook your head at him, even though you were smiling. He came around to your side of the table. His hand rested on your back and he bent down towards your ear.  
“I actually came over for you,” he said. “Got a minute?”
Your brows rose, but you turned to Eileen in askance. “I’ll be right back. Is that okay?”
She nodded and made an “OK” gesture. “Of course.”
You smiled and let Dean lead you out of your chair, and even out of the apartment. He made sure you both grabbed your coats by the front door.
“Where are we going?” you asked. While you put on your coat over your sweater and jeans, you didn’t notice him grabbing two sets of keys.
“Just downstairs. No big deal,” he said, hefting on his own leather jacket.
You eyed him with some suspicion, but you walked with him down to the elevators and let him keep you close to his side. He smelled like the cologne you bought him for Christmas, and he was already wearing the new watch as well.
You’d struggled to find him the right gift. Nothing felt quite enough after everything he’d done for you the last few months. He’d assured you that he was grateful for both gifts, and had even tried to say the watch looked too expensive. (You’d shut him up with a kiss.)
Now, you had to wonder what he was up to as he led you into the parking lot, but not toward Baby. Instead, you two stopped in front of a shiny silver Chevy parked in a guest spot.
“Dean, what’d you do?” you asked, both excited and worried. He shot you a grin and dangled the keys in front of you.
“You like her?” he asked. His eyes were dancing. “You could keep her, if you ask nicely.”
Your face slackened. You looked between him and the sleek looking car.
“What?” You covered your mouth with both hands. Even after a few moments, your brain was still having a hard time computing. “No…what? Oh my God!”
You grabbed onto his jacket, just in case your legs failed you. Dean laughed and gathered you up in his arms. By the time you peeled your eyes away from the silver beauty to look up at your boyfriend, there were tears already swimming in your eyes.
“Dean, this is really too much. Where’d you find—”
“Bobby had it sitting in his garage for years,” he explained. His hand came up to brush your cheek, and the tears there. “I cleaned her up, dropped in a new engine, safe-proofed with new tires, new airbags, the works. Got her purring like a kitten.”
Your eyes grew a little wider with every admission. Then you softened, gripping the edges of his jacket while you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling.
“How much did he sell it to you for?” you asked. Dean dropped his head back with a sigh.
“Don’t you wanna take a test ride before we start hagglin’?”
You lightly smacked his chest. “Hey. How much?”
He let out another heavy sigh, but you eventually got it out of him. While the price wasn’t as bad as you might’ve expected, you still shook your head.
“I still have a decent chunk of insurance money left. I’m giving you at least half,” you said.
Dean shook his head. “This is my gift to you.”
Your lips pursed, despite the smile that wanted to peek through.
“Nice try,” you said wryly. “You already got me perfume.”
“That was just the decoy.” He grinned, and held you a bit tighter against him. He nodded towards the car. “She’s the main event.”
You wanted to sigh, but this conversation wasn’t over. You were definitely not letting him buy you a whole new…old car. You turned to look at it again.
“What model is this?” you asked.
“2002 Camaro Z28,” Dean rattled off. It sounded impressive, but you didn’t know much about cars.
He let go of you so you could get a closer look. Your hand passed over the hood, but didn’t touch, as if you were afraid of staining the paint with your fingerprints. He had to admit, he’d waxed it up good and managed to get rid of a lot of superficial nicks and scratches.
What he said was true though; Bobby had given him a frankly ridiculous deal. Because when Dean had told him what you’d been through after the car accident, dealing with your grandfather’s passing, and now your ever-mounting expenses, Bobby hadn’t let him walk away from Singer Salvage with anything else but this car. He’d even helped Dean get the new parts he needed to fix it up.
“Is it automatic or manual?” you asked, trying to peer through the driver’s window. “I haven’t driven stick in a hell of a long time.”
Dean came up from behind you and his warm hand found your hip. You let him draw you back into his arms, leaning against his chest.
His lips were close to your ear when he said, “I think you’re damn good at driving stick.”
It took you a second, but the heavily laden innuendo in his deep voice was hard to miss. You uttered a laugh and swatted his arm.
“You’re ridiculous,” you said. You were still smiling when you turned and twined your arms around his neck. Then you leaned up for a kiss—one that kept getting deeper with the full force of your gratefulness, and your love for this man.
“It’s an automatic,” he answered, between kisses. You giggled against his lips.
You barely felt the chill on the air. Your heart was beating fast, even when you pulled away from him. Your eyes slowly opened and met his. He smiled down at you and curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. As usual, you had most of it clipped up.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was quiet, but steady.
You let out a shaky breath. Emotion was clogging your throat, making your tears burn anew.
“This is a bit more than a Christmas present,” you said. He gave a more self-deprecating smile.
“Well, it’s also kind of an apology,” he said. “For getting you mixed up in my ‘family business.’”
He still felt guilt beyond belief for putting you in danger. For your life being threatened. For being the reason you couldn’t go home.
You just shook your head. Your hand raised to press against his cheek. Your thumb drew tenderly along his chin.
“I thought you said you were part of my family now?” you said. “We’ll figure this out together, like everything else.”
Dean’s eventual smile lightened you, and his kiss warmed you down to your toes. 
“If you want, let’s go for a ride after dinner,” he said.
It was your turn to smirk. Your hands migrated under his jacket and teased at his belt.
“Well, I’m certainly down for a ride,” you said.
Dean laughed and squeezed your hips. “All right. I’m puttin’ you on my naughty list.”
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When John finally arrived, the brothers welcomed him in first with big man hugs and good-natured ribbing for him being so damn late.
In Sam’s words, Upholding a Winchester family tradition.
John had taken that with a chuckle. “Smells damn good in here.”
“Yeah, food’s been done for an hour,” Dean prodded at him again. His grin betrayed his teasing, however. His welcoming hand stayed on his dad’s shoulder until they reached the living room, where Sam had set up a longer fold out table and chairs to function as the makeshift dining room, since the table near the kitchen only seated three.
There you were opening a bottle of Jack Daniels. You smiled up at John.
“Figured you were more of a whiskey than wine kind of guy,” you said. You were a bit nervous to see him again, no doubt with flour in your hair and frosting staining your hands. He clasped your shoulder with a hint of a smile.
“You’d be right. Good to see you, darlin’,” he said.
“You too,” you replied. Despite the fact that the first and last time you two had met, it had been in front of your house as the police rifled through your life, looking for more explosives. He graciously didn’t bring that up as he greeted Eileen next.
Once dinner was on the table, there was a lot of catching up between the brothers and their father while you and Eileen continued talking, even through dessert.
“This really is amazing,” she told you, pointing her fork at her slice of berry crumble. “I can see why you went to culinary school.”
You blushed as Sam, Dean, and even John echoed her praise. All three men had generous slices of both pies. 
“Well, thank you. I’m glad you guys enjoy it,” you said, and your smile was genuine.
You loved making good food, but you loved feeding people even more. Whether it was a simple hearty soup or a rich dessert, you liked putting smiles on their faces and giving them a good experience; one they could share with their family and friends. Even better if it was your family.
Or as Dean would say, Your people. 
To you, that was life.
“I’m tellin’ you, if you opened up a bakery you’d make a killing in this town,” Dean said. He nudged your hand with the one that held his fork; it held a precarious piece of pumpkin pie.
You shot him an amused look.
“Don’t you look at me sideways, I’m serious,” he said, laughing a little, but his gaze was steady.
Your cheeks warmed against your will. He believed in your dream, even when you couldn’t quite let yourself.
“Hey, if you ever want to look into applying for a loan, I could help,” Sam said, earning your attention. “I have a friend who works at a bank.”
Your brows raised. “Really?”
He nodded. “Yeah, we were pre-law together back in college, but he figured he was better with numbers.”
You smiled. “Well, it would make it easier knowing I was dealing with your friend.”
“Yeah, his name’s Brady. Let me know if you want me to call him,” he said.
You bit your lip, but you nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”
Maybe they were right. Maybe you should start to believe in yourself, just a little bit more.
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“This was all real delicious,” John said to you, when you came back from bringing the leftovers to the kitchen.
Sam and Dean were already arguing about who was doing the dishes and who was drying them. Meanwhile, Eileen was putting away the food (and probably rolling her eyes).
“Yeah, it was a team effort for sure,” you replied. “Dean’s actually a really good cook.”
John chuckled. “Yeah, well, he didn’t get that from me. I can barely boil a damn egg.”
You smiled to yourself; you could imagine Dean got it from his mother then.
Meanwhile, John was watching you stack the empty plates as he grew more contemplative. He’d always been proud of his sons. They were good men, with strong heads on their shoulders.
He often looked at Sam and saw that he seemed happy. Despite the demands of his job, he was learning to balance that with the life he led with Eileen. As a father, John looked forward to the day when they made a firm foundation, taking the next step towards building a life together.
But Dean had seemed to him, a little unstable. John was still proud of his eldest, but while he’d seen a glimpse of it that day at your house, he saw it even more today. Like his son finally had an anchor, tethering him to dry land.
Even so, he couldn’t help heaving a sigh. And he asked you something he knew he shouldn’t.
“Have you given any more thought to filing a report on Nick Savage?” he asked.
You paused in your plate and cup stacking. You looked up at him with a frown, but you thought about your words before you said something rude.
“Yes, I did,” you replied. “I decided my life and my peace were more important.”
He let out a short sigh. “I understand—”
“I’m sorry, John, but I don’t think you do,” you said. Your words were matter-of-fact, if a tad more sharp than you meant them to be. Your hands were starting to tremble.
You crossed your arms to try and steady yourself, but Dean ended up doing just that, by joining your side and resting a hand at the small of your back. He was frowning, glancing between you and his father.
“Tell me you’re not talking about what I think you are,” Dean said, addressing John in particular. “Not on damn Christmas.”
“Like you said, it’s her decision,” John replied. His gaze once again focused on you.
You let out a breath, mostly of exasperation.
“I’m going to bottom-line it for you. If I report that man, and you can’t guarantee me a job and safety until it’s all over, then I’m not poking the bear,” you said. “I plan to keep my head down until I can find another job. Until then, you can have at him all you want. Just leave me out of it.”
Part of you felt selfish. You knew what John was trying to accomplish, and you knew how personal this fight was for him, and for Sam and Dean for that matter. You just couldn’t shake your gut instincts here. You knew Nick far too well by now, and you didn’t want to underestimate him again.
“I agree,” said Dean. You gave him a grateful look.
John conceded with a nod, but all of you knew he wasn’t satisfied. It became a bitter ending to an otherwise brilliant day after he left for the night.
In your mind, it wasn’t quite over yet though. You had a plan up your sleeve for one Dean Winchester.
Sam and Eileen had their own time together while you and Dean went for a drive in your new car. You’d have to transfer your plate and registration and insurance, so it was technically an “illegal” drive, but it was already late and traffic was scarce.
By the time you pulled back into the parking lot, you were smiling from ear to ear, and Dean was giving you that smug grin that said, Aw yeah, I did good.
You couldn’t even fault him for it, because he did exactly that.
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Even when you and Dean were getting ready for bed, it didn’t quite feel real. You were living with your boyfriend of just a few months, you now had a new car, and a crime lord had threatened your life.
You chose to focus on the new car. And on your boyfriend, who sat on the edge of his side of the bed, rubbing his right shoulder through his shirt. You knew it must still be sore, though he likely wouldn’t admit it.
Hence, you were about to enact Phase 1 of your plan…
You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.
Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”
“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.
You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.
You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”
He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.
“Well, if you’re offering…”
You withdrew your hand from his arm, but you spoke close to his ear.
“Are you asking?”
He let out a small sigh, despite his lingering smile.
“All right. Will you please give me a lil’ massage?” he asked.
He couldn’t see your triumphant smile, but you happily kissed his cheek.
“I sure can,” you replied. You laid gentle hands on his shoulders, however briefly. “Stay right here. Don’t move, but take off your shirt.”
“All right, Miss Bossy,” he grumbled. You knew he was teasing by the amused look he threw your way.
“I thought you liked that,” you teased back.
You climbed off the bed before he could playfully grab you, and you giggled all the way to the bathroom. There you began Phase 2 of your plan. 
First, you collected a few different bottles from your designated drawer under the sink. Then, you made a quick wardrobe change, after popping back into the bedroom to grab something from your nightstand.
You also connected your phone to the speaker on his nightstand and put some music on a low volume. It was a playlist he’d made and shared with you a while ago, with songs he thought you’d like. The Eagles’ “Take It to the Limit” was definitely on the list.
By the time you returned to Dean, he was indeed shirtless, still in his sweatpants, and checking his watch.  
“I’m here, I’m here,” you said. You climbed across the bed with your small haul—a difficult feat with your hands full, but you managed.
Dean turned to look at the bottles of moisturizer you dropped next to him on the bed. He rose a brow.
“Twilight Woods. Japanese Cherry Blossom. Appletini. Are these my only options?” he asked. His face was half bemused, half reluctant.
You almost burst out laughing. “Which one strikes your fancy?”
He scratched the back of his head. You opened the second bottle first (your personal favorite), so he could smell.
“Not bad actually,” he muttered. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t giggle, but you managed to open the other two for him to get a whiff.
“Eh, the first one I guess,” he said.
Japanese Cherry Blossom. AKA: a classic from Bath & Body Works.
You finally had to laugh. “Just kidding. I’ve got this.”
You held up a jar you’d been hiding behind him. Its logo said: Massage Oil.
“I just wanted to see which girly moisturizer you secretly wanna slather all over yourself,” you said.
Dean shot you a wry look, but only then did he see what you were wearing.
“Oh, hold up,” he uttered.
Your hair was let loose, how you knew he liked, and you’d teased it out a little. You’d had to give away the red lingerie you’d bought, to rid both of you of its lingering memories of your work Christmas party. Instead, you’d found something in a vibrant emerald green: satin and lace.
Dean’s hand reached for your waist, probably to bring you closer. But you playfully slapped his hand.
“Eh-eh! Not yet,” you said to his surprised face. You smiled. “I have a plan for you tonight.”
Slowly, he smirked. His eyes still dipped to take in the rest of you, from your pretty face, to exposed skin and cleavage, to shiny satin that clung to your curves and draped down to mid-thigh. 
“I can see,” he said. His voice was a notch deeper. “Merry Christmas to me.”
Despite your blush and growing smile, you turned him back around by his shoulders.
“Just relax.”
You let your hands drift up the back of his neck to slide your fingers through his hair. There you began with a slow, gentle massage of his head. You felt him take a deep breath.
You couldn’t see it, but Dean’s eyes had closed at your ministrations. He secretly really liked the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. It made his shoulders loosen; with tension he didn’t know he had releasing from the neck down.
Aside from the rigors of his job, he also had to work out and condition his body to keep up his stamina. He probably didn’t spend as much time as he should on this aspect of things, making sure he wasn’t overtaxing himself.
He appreciated what you were doing though. He knew you cared about him, that you loved him. But he liked that you were also a caring person, who tried to take care of him. Dean hadn’t really had that…from anyone before. Sometimes, it was hard for him to let you.
…Damn, we really got too much in common, he realized.
When you migrated back down his neck, your hands left for a moment to gather up some oil. It was warm against his skin when you started between his shoulders, digging with the heel of your hands.
He groaned deep, surprising even himself.
Behind him, your brows were furrowed. “You’re really knotted up here. When was the last time you had a massage?”
Dean chuckled. “Never.”
You frowned. “Hmm. Okay, we’re definitely doing this more often.”
“No complaints from me,” he said with a grin.
Of course, you gave special attention to his right shoulder. You were gentler there, asking what was tender and what felt good, or too much. By then you had an easier time getting the truth out of Dean. He let you know when the pressure was too much, and you even helped him stretch out that arm until the muscles and joints were warmed up and the pain was gone.
You encouraged him to lie on his stomach in the middle of the bed, so you could start on his back. Your hands glided down planes of muscle and smooth slopes while you straddled his thighs. The only sounds you heard from him were occasional moans and rumbling, pleased sounds. That was also what let you know that he hadn’t fallen asleep.
“Okay, turn over,” you said, smiling when he groaned in protest. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part.”
“What the hell’s the good part then?” he asked. His voice was muffled in the mattress, but when he turned around, flopping onto his back, his eyes once again took in the green satin and seemed to remember what your real intentions were.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. His grin was lazy, now that he was beyond relaxed, but his hands found purchase on your hips. You smiled down at him.
You let the remaining oil on your hands glide up his chest, until you lowered down for a kiss. It was unhurried and sweet.
“I love you, you know?” you said.
Dean swept his fingers through your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear.
He smiled. “I’ve got some idea, yeah.”
You both laughed, soft and true. Your hand rested against his cheek as you pressed your lips to his, soft and slow at first, but soon gaining in both passion and urgency. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, grinding your center against his growing length.
He groaned. No goddamn panties on. Good.
You kissed your way from his lips to his neck. Your teeth grazed his ear while you rolled your hips into his. It was a tease for both of you, but not for long, as Dean grew impatient enough to slide his sweatpants down, followed by his hands slipping under the satin covering your thighs. They traveled further still, squeezing your breasts and rolling hardened nipples under the pads of his thumbs.
Your breath hitched, and your pleased hum was music to his ears. By now you were bracing yourself against the mattress, but you used his shoulders as leverage to raise yourself up.
You took his hands and encouraged them to bunch up the satin and pull it over your head. Dean sat up with you still in his lap, and once his strong arm wrapped around your waist, it was skin to flushed skin.
You held his face and brought him down to you for another fierce kiss. He held you tightly against him, hands splayed across your back and tangling in your hair. His arms were a cage you never wanted to escape.
But you did press away from him, just for a moment, so you could reach down between your bodies to take a firm hold of his cock. You guided it to your entrance. There was already a small flood between your legs, and your core ached for him.
There was almost no resistance when you slowly sunk your hips down and down, until he was buried deep inside you.
You both made sounds of pleasure, with labored breaths as Dean’s hand cradled your cheek. He laid open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, teeth grazing down your neck.
You clung to his shoulders and began to move, slow in the way you let almost the full length of his cock escape you, before you slid back down. Dean moaned into your skin, and you let out a shuddering sigh.
You pushed at Dean’s chest until he was lying back, and you continued rolling your hips against his. He helped you create a steady rhythm on top of him, but he was being treated to a feast of the eyes as well as the pleasure rocking through his body. He watched the way you swept your hair back. The way your eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration as you bit your lip.
But he couldn’t stay still for long; he knew he was close enough to practically taste his end, but you had some miles to go. He gripped your thigh with one hand while the other glided up between them, to further part your folds. His fingers found your clit, circling insistently like it was a button. It had your hips stuttering.
“Oh, God,” you uttered. “Dean—”
He managed to smirk through panting breaths. “Right there, right baby?”
You nodded, unable to speak. You continued to move as steadily as you could, but the feeling of him deep inside combined with his talented fingers playing you like a five-string guitar—it finally made you tighten on him, shuddering deep inside. Tingles broke across your skin, zipping up your spine as you gasped.
Dean helped you with the last few hard thrusts that brought him along with you, and you felt his warmth spilling inside you.
It was a heady feeling, and you needed a moment just to recover. Even though you were on birth control, every time he came inside you still felt like a dangerous, delicious game.
But after you slid off his lap and practically rolled into his side, him welcoming you with an arm wrapping around your waist, it did make you think, as you caught your breath.
It made you think about the first time you and Dean slept together. It had been the first and last time you’d asked him to wear a condom. The next morning, he’d made a remark that still hung in the back of your mind…
“You like kids, huh?”
The thought still rattled through your mind now, after you and Dean shared a quick shower, ridding you both of the oil clinging to your skin. The thought remained when you slid into bed, under fresh sheets and thick covers, and close to your man. He cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling.
Contrary to what this night had been, the whole “moving in together” thing hadn’t been all that easy. You two had bickered about the way he often left drawers and cabinets open and dirty clothes on the floor.
He had made remarks about your hair products taking up too much space in his drawers. Not to mention how morning routines needed to adjust because Dean liked to shower in the morning, but you needed the mirror not fogged up in order to do your makeup.
Right now, however, you had peace. You felt safe here, and you weren’t alone in a huge house filled with far too many memories.
“Can I ask you something?” you said.
Dean’s lips lingered on your forehead. “Hmm?”
“I know this situation is sort of temporary, me living here,” you said. “So much has happened that we haven’t really talked about…what we both want, down the line.”
He pulled back enough from you to see your face. His face betrayed a thread of confusion.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean like…” you hesitated, but you realized you were probably going to have to be direct. “Are you a marriage and kids kind of guy? Is that even something you’ve thought about?”
Dean met your gaze. It took him a moment, but he let out a short sigh.
“You wanna know what made me want to start dating, for real?” he asked.
You blinked; you hadn’t expected that, but you nodded.
“I started thinking about what would happen if something happened to me on the job,” he said. You frowned, but before you could say anything, he raised a placating hand.
“I thought about what I’d leave behind,” said Dean. He quirked a wry smile. “It’s not much, besides my car.”
You frowned in earnest. Your hand flattened against his bare chest.
“That’s not true,” you said. “You have your brother, your father, and your friends. That’s plenty, Dean.”
He conceded that with a nod. “You’re right. But I just started thinking, maybe I want more. Like uh…like what my parents had, when they were happy. The house, each other, me and Sammy…a family.”
You couldn’t be certain in the near total darkness of the room, with only the moonlight filtering through the blinds and casting a glow behind him, but you thought you saw a shine in his eyes. Your hand crept up from beneath the covers to find his cheek. It was rough with stubble, yet you tenderly swept a thumb back and forth.
“I think that’s beautiful,” you replied.
Dean paused. He then huffed in amusement. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, hoping he could see it. 
“Then uh, is that something you’d be into?” he asked. You were amused by his tentative approach. 
“With you?” You pretended to think. Your fingers slipped into his hair. “Yeah, I think I’m into that.”
He chuckled. “Okay, then. Good to know.”
He grasped your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss into your palm.
And he spoke into the dark. “I love you too, you know.”
Your smile deepened as you rested your head against his arm. You whispered into the small space between your faces.
“Yeah, I’ve got some idea.”
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AN: All righty, how'd you like that fluff overload?
...Ready for some more drama? 😏
Next Time:
But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.
It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.
“Winchester,” he answered.
“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”
“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”
Keep Reading: PART 16
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Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb
@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
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6lostgirl6 · 4 months
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Yandere Alphabet - Demon!Dean Winchester
TW: Toxic Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Controlling Behavior, Hints of Physical Abuse, Hints of Verbal Abuse, Kidnapping, Mentions of Murder, Isolation And Spanking As Punishment, Cursing, Manipulation. A/N: Please inform me if I did not tag something correctly. Please know the difference between fictional and reality. While fictional, these types of relationships are extremely toxic, especially in real-life. If your relationship is showcasing these toxic behaviors, please seek help from someone to get out safely. Reblogs are heavily appreciated!!
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Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
He’s a physical lover, and he doesn’t give two fucks about PDA. He’ll kiss and touch you whenever and wherever he likes. He always gives you heated, passionate kisses while grasping all over your body and pressing you up against him. When he’s really affected, he’ll growl while kissing you, and his eyes will flash black on occasion.
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
Very messy. Demon Dean, at this point, is a malevolent being and will resort to more grotesque methods when it comes to his darling. Even if it means killing innocent people who look at you the wrong way or dare touch you, well, try. He’ll break the person’s bones before they even lay a finger on you.
Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?
Depending on how you react to the situation, his treatment of you varies. If you behave, he'll treat you good by his definition. However, if you react badly, he's going to not react well. Yes, he’ll mock you, because we need to remember that he may love you, but that doesn't change his nature. He has a cruel sense of humor.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?
He’ll make you come with him on his killing sprees. You’re not a fan of blood; that’s too bad. You’ll just have to get used to it, because that’s all you’re ever going to see besides him. Blood and carnage.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
Demon Dean still has some of his old traits from when he was human. He doesn't like expressing his emotions until he trusts you enough. Which would take a long time. However, when he finally trusts you, he’ll be more open about his feelings for you. He still keeps things close to his chest, though he might never speak with you about it. 
Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?
Oh, he’s pissed.
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?
No, your relationship isn't a game to him. But getting you to fall in love with him will be like a game, and he'll triumph. It’s only a matter of time. Demon Dean wouldn't like seeing you try to escape; it would automatically anger him. He’ll lash out at you.
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
Your worst experience with him would be your fights with him. He's scary when he’s angry, especially when it's towards you. He’ll practically scream in your face and manhandle you. Another thing would be him forcing you to see his killing sprees. He doesn't trust you enough to leave you on your own, so you'll have to witness his brutality.
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?
When it comes to your future with him, you’re stuck with him, and not even death would separate you. He’ll secretly try to uncover a way to turn you into a demon. You'll be isolated from hunters; demons wouldn't dare approach you. He’s the only thing you’ll ever need; nobody else can help you.
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
Extremely, however, it’s not because he’s insecure; you simply belong to him and are completely off-limits. Coping, what’s that? He’s going to lash out in a violent way at the person attempting to flirt with you. He left people bloodied to a pulp on the floor before, and he has done worse.
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
It’s discrete, but he’s a little softer around you, and he would let you get away with small things that he wouldn’t tolerate if it were another person. As a demon, he’s not afraid to show you how deep his love runs for you. He’s clingy and always has a hand grabbing you somewhere. He’s very possessive, and he tends to keep you to himself.
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
When it comes to demon dean, there is no time for courting or lightly approaching you about his feelings. When he kidnapped you, there were no romantic gestures or heartfelt confessions; you simply belonged to him, and you need to get used to it.
Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?
Of course, Dean treats you differently compared to others. He’s less rough around the edge, and he does try to control his temper better around you. You’re his, and he doesn’t mistreat what belongs to him. 
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
Depending on what you do, however, he'll simply tie you to the bedpost and keep you there until you learn your lesson. He would never intentionally hurt you, but he will force you over your lap and smack your ass until you’re begging for forgiveness. Trust me, he wouldn’t make it fun for you.
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?
The better question is: how many rights would he allow you to have? All you need to do around him is eat, sleep, and look pretty for him. Misbehave, and you’re going to be chained to the bed again.
Patience: How patient are they with their darling?
He will have zero patience with you, so you better behave for your own sake. He's not afraid of punishing you, however he sees fit, because you didn’t listen to him or try to escape. Therefore, try not to upset him too much.
Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?
No, he would never move on. If you died or were killed, his rampage would be talked about in Hell for centuries. If you manage to escape, it won’t last long. He’s going to get you back, whatever it takes, so enjoy the freedom while it lasts.
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
Ha! Hell no. However, after being cured, he will feel horrible for how he treated you. He’ll feel ashamed that his darker feelings for you were brought to light. He really does love you, but the demonic side of him has horrible ways of showing it.
Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?
His transformation into a demon allowed his yandere tendencies to be brought to the surface. He doesn’t have to hold back his urges anymore, and why would he want to?
Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?
Of course he doesn’t like it; he prefers you being obedient and rather docile. He would never admit this, but he would want you to be happy with him, even as a demon. If you try avoiding him, he’ll keep bugging you and forcing you to talk to him. He lacks patience, so your screams and cries will only make him angrier the longer you keep having tantrums.
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?
Demon Dean would never hurt you intentionally, especially by abusing you to make you cooperate. Sure, when he lashes out, there may be a few accidents, but that’s all they are. Accidents. 
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?
There are two things you could use: his killing urges and/or feeding into his ego. If you want to play the waiting game, you would have to gain his trust enough to allow you to be out of his sight. Simply pretending to love him won’t be enough because he’ll see right through you. When he goes on his killing sprees, leaving you behind for once will be your chance and only chance to escape. You better protect yourself; he will find you.
Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?
No matter how much he cares about you, he will hurt your feelings at times, especially when he flirts with other women in front of you. When he’s extremely angry or has the itching need to kill something, you need to stay out of his way. He will lash out at you with hurtful words and potential bruises.
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?
Demon Dean cares about you despite who he is, and he doesn’t like upsetting you. You’re not much fun with tears in your eyes. As a demon, you’re the only one that makes him feel things—feelings he used to hide within when he was human. Anyway, he would go to the ultimate length to win you over. He’s not going to beg on his knees for your love, but he’ll show you how much he worships you in his own way. You want him to kill someone and bring you their head? He'll do it.
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
After Dean became a demon and left with Crowley, he didn’t take you with him at the time, no matter how much he wanted to. However, you’ve never left his thoughts, no matter how much he tried to drink your sweet voice away. You haunted him for months until he finally snapped and came after you.
Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?
If Dean was never cured or you never managed a way to escape from him, he’ll find a way to break you and make you depend solely on him. Make you finally see that he is the only thing that would kill to keep you safe. One way or another, he’ll make you fall for him.
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Taglist: Comment to be added/removed!!
@prettywhenibleed @britany1997 @rottent33th @slaasherslut @huntressandlioness1 @wraith-posts @schizonephilim
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lost-between-letters · 4 months
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Pick me up?
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Pairing: Dean Winchester & daughter!reader (she/her)
Requested by: @gabrielasilva1510
Word Count: 798
Warnings: crying, hurt/comfort (heavy on the comfort though)
Summary: Your night makes a turn for the worse. But you have a dad who actually picks up his phone and listens
A/N: look who's not dead (me). I decided to abandon the tag list because I'm not sure how updated it is anymore
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This was worse than any monster he had ever faced before, Dean decided. Certain death by the next most freaky thing this world could come up with? A piece of cake compared to this.
His little girl. His pretty, brave, witty daughter shaking with gutwrenching sobs, clinging to his jacket like her life depended on it - mere seconds after he'd stopped the car in front of the house she and her friends had gone to for the night.
Dean wanted to go back into that frat-house, and find the fucker who made his girl cry like that. But Y/N was here, holding onto him, and if there was one thing he had learned on the road, then it was to know when to pick your battles.
So he didn't act on the violent thoughts threatening to cloud his mind and instead hugged Y/N tighter. He cupped the back of her head, easing over the messy up-do that must have come undone at some point of her night out, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Seeing Y/N smile again was more important than finding the cause of her tears. For now.
But it was freezing here, and he had a perfectly functioning car right behind him. A car Dean knew his daughter loved just as much as he did.
"Sweetheart, how do you feel about getting out of here?"
She burrowed her head deeper into his chest and nodded. "Please, dad."
So he carefully extracted himself from the hug and followed her around the car to open the door for her. She slid in without another word and immediately curled up in the seat.
It tore at his heart. To see his outgoing daughter - the same girl who'd faced down a phalanx of angry ghosts while giving her uncle shit for his fighting techniques - so small. Dean took off his jacket, draped it over her frame and got in the car himself before she could comment.
The first few miles, he let the radio wash over them, pretending that he didn’t hear the quiet sniffles from the passenger seat. Dean didn't have a particular destination in mind - and he didn't need one. Y/N was much like Sam in that aspect - she didn't need space, she needed background noise, and a moving vehicle to stop her mind from spinning. And what was better than the low rumble of the impala and abandoned roads?
Soon, Y/N was drumming her fingers on her knees in time with the song, and Dean knew the worst was over.
He dared to look over at her fully now. "Wanna talk about it?"
She snorted. "That's Sam's line."
"Watch it," he threatened playfully, almost embarrassed by the all-consuming relief he felt at that little laugh.
"You watch it, old man." She shot back, but she was smiling as well.
The smile faltered as a thought, or maybe a memory, crossed her mind, and Y/N leaned her head against the window. The street lights illuminated the tear tracks on her cheeks. "I don't wanna talk about it."
No. That just wouldn't do. His daughter was not allowed to be sad, and Dean was about to find out who would pay for this.
"Sweetheart -"
"Please, dad." She tugged his jacket higher around her shoulders. "Not tonight. I don't want to think about it anymore."
After a long moment, Dean sighed. It wasn't like screaming would help. She'd just get stubborn and close off.
It wasn't even like Dean wanted to rage. Not at her, at least.
So he took a few deep breaths like Sam had advised him to (and gotten mercilessly ridiculed for) and nodded. "Okay. Not tonight."
Y/N smiled genuinely for the first time since she called him crying. "Thank you. For coming and picking me up."
Dean reached over and squeezed her knee. "That's what dads are for, Y/N. I'll always come when you need me."
He would. He'd promised her when she was just a wrinkly frowny ball of newborn, tiny eyes blinking up at him in that wretched hospital. Dean would be there for his daughter, whether it was guns blazing and fighting or nights curled up under blankets with only chocolate and heating pads - because growing up was a lonely affair without someone you could hold onto. But his little girl would never have to find that out firsthand. Dean made sure of that.
"So you'll agree to watch Mamma Mia with me?" She looked at him hopefully, knees pulled up on the seat, her eyes still red and swollen. "Auntie Charlie got me the DVD, and it really would cheer me up now. Please, dad?"
Dean groaned. Since when had she gotten so devious?
"Fine, you little monster."
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deanbrainrotwritings · 5 months
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—  GOD, IF YOU ARE ABOVE
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SUMMARY : technically part two of demonology and heartache (which I haven’t posted, yet). an au in which dean is a priest and the reader is a demon with an obsession to corrupt him. 
PAIRING : priest!dean winchester x demon!reader (f.)
CHARACTERS : none
WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, voyeurism, smut, p in v, masturbation, corruption kink, priest kink, blasphemy, defiling a church, jealousy
WORD COUNT : 1.8k
A/N : falling in reverse song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — voyeurism and priest kink. no spoilers for the fic I haven’t posted. @jacklesversebingo card square — voyeurism. this is… uh… I’m going to hell XXXX
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Dean attempted to act as if she didn’t affect him. He felt so guilty, he wouldn’t even dare confess to his superiors what he’d done or tell them that the new nun they brought to the church was in fact an ancient demon. 
The truth was, she hadn’t harmed anyone physically. But he had a feeling it was her that influenced the strange closeness between Sister Perlamaria and Sister Arelys. And the scent of cigarettes and alcohol that billowed from Father Calvo’s breath. And the dirty dreams he’s been having every night, more frequently than before, always with her. 
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to come clean about her to someone who could do something about her subtle corruption within the church, the defilement of all that was once in everyone in the church.
Dean wondered what she told the people who came by and how she so easily managed to make people believe her, how she convinced them to do as she suggested, not even having to lift a finger to get what she wanted. 
Well, that was the case for everyone else except him. For him, she made him dream about her, fantasies of doing things to her, and of her doing things to him. And when he was under her spell—which really wasn’t a spell at all, but rather his lust and desire for carnality—she pounced on him. And now, he was hers. 
He struggled to keep her promiscuous behaviour to a minimum, it was difficult to control her at all—and it was arousing all together, unfortunately for him. He couldn’t resist her and eventually, the dreams ended, but his desire for her was undying. She was truly wicked, burrowing into him and planting seeds that would grow of their own accord.
His desire for her bloomed on its own within him, a few intimate touches, sultry glances, and seductive words sent in his direction were enough to keep those flowers from withering away. They were more like weeds than flowers, he wanted to get rid of his desire, but he couldn’t. They invaded all that he was. 
But it was a nice feeling that made him… free. He didn’t want to stop, not after getting a taste of her sinful lips, not after getting his hands on her soft body, not after she slept with him. 
He walked to her room again, like he did every night. Sometimes she was nowhere to be found. Other times she’d be asleep. Or she’d read the Bible mockingly, marking the text and correcting the stories. If he was lucky, he’d catch her touching herself, moaning his name as she climaxed on her fingers. 
He was too much of a coward to enter her room. He knew that she knew he watched her when she touched herself. He wasn’t brave enough to enter her room to bury himself inside the warmth of her body. Instead he returned to his room to finish the job with his own hand.
Today, he was too tired to sneak around and add to the guilt that already weighed him down. As exhilarating as it was to be with her and to see her every once in a while, as a break from what his father wanted him to do. Dean just wanted to give in completely to something he wanted, to something new.
He didn’t know what to expect, but he knew it was not a coincidence that the doors were shutting by themselves as he made his way back to his room. A shiver ran down his spine, prickling his skin so his hairs stood on end, but there were no windows open. He knew it was her.
He got to his room, but the door didn’t budge. He sighed tiredly, but a smile tugged at his lips despite how wrong it felt to walk away from his room with a spark of thrill in his blood. 
He followed the chill around the cathedral, allowing self-shutting doors to take him wherever he knew Y/n was guiding him. 
Eventually, he made his way to the nave. The moonlight poured through stained glass, onto the walls and floor. Dean didn’t have to look around for her because he could hear her pleasuring herself, and straight across, on the altar, was her. 
Naked. His breath caught in his throat. He felt… offended. Afraid. Aroused. 
He froze where he stood, having a clear view of her skin and her body. Her hand moved between her legs, her other cupped her breast, and she arched her back off the hard flat surface of the altar. 
He wasn’t sure if it was all a show for him. Or if she wanted to get caught on purpose. He also thought of the possibility that she may even be trying to tempt the other Sisters or Fathers, the way she had with him. 
The dreams of carnal love-making ended. The escapes from her quarters into his to enact his fantasies had lessened. He didn’t know if she was bored of him and was moving on to a new victim or if she was teasing him, testing him. 
He was jealous, he could feel the heat rise up his face at the thought of her interest moving away from him to someone else. She was a demon, afterall, she had no loyalties to anyone, no conscience or care for the concept of monogamy. He couldn’t believe he had feelings for her, as if she would do the same. He knew she didn’t, she would never reciprocate, she couldn’t, but he couldn’t stop himself.
He stepped closer to her, his stomach fluttering, his heart palpitating… He felt hot all over, jealous, angry, so many emotions—including lust. His hands shook and walking felt uncomfortable from how erect he was within the confines of his black dress pants.
She was taking longer than normal to get off, smoothing her hands over her soft, fleshy body. Laying herself out completely over the decorated altar, staring up at the crucifix defiantly when her hand travelled back down between her legs. 
Dean wondered if she’d done it before, if she did it always. He knew nothing about her, except for the taste of her mouth and her pussy, the texture of her skin, her lips, and her warmth deep within… a warmth that simply did not reach her eyes, it was only lust in disguise. 
Her head rolled to the side, eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration, pants and moans echoing through the wooden walls. Her eyes fluttered open when one of his feet dragged loudly across the floor, and she lifted her head to see the intruder, a mischievous smirk growing on her face.
She spread her legs further apart, her fingers moving quickly against her clit, fingers plunging inside her pussy faster as he stood frozen in place. His lungs tightened as she stared into his eyes just a few feet away from him, her moans getting louder and needier. 
He was breathless and his legs felt like he was walking through tar, but he was still able to rush over to her, and slap a hand over her mouth to silence the lewd sounds she was making. His presence only seemed to spur her, she stared up into his eyes shamelessly, and he did the same for a few moments before looking away. 
His gaze slowly trailed down to her breasts as she arched further off the flat surface. He traced the curve of her waist with his green eyes, captivated by her arousing beauty. He felt her tongue against his palm and her teeth, and he stared back up at her lecherously, breathing heavily as she moaned his name against his palm.
He pushed her thighs apart and stared obscenely as she fingered herself and rubbed her clit, her thighs and fingers soaked in her excitement. He held his hand tightly to her mouth to continue muffling the hot sounds she was making, and brought his other hand down to keep her thighs apart, holding her leg bruisingly onto the altar, until she fell apart on her own fingers.
She cried into his hand, worshipping his name as she writhed and shook. Her eyes pierced his, shining with desire—and what he thought was reverence. 
When he released her, Dean tilted his head at her. She relaxed, catching her breath while staring up at him, her lust devouring him whole. 
“Do you always do this here?” He asked her, shoving his coat off his shoulders. She read the situation wrong, and excitedly reached for his belt to unbuckle it as she shook her head at him. “Don’t,” he implored quietly, placing his coat over her shoulders.
“Please,” she whispered, releasing him nonetheless. She leaned back on her arms and watched him, her eyes begging him to take her where she was. 
“I can’t,” Dean murmured, leaning down to kiss her on the lips. She breathed in and kissed him back, taking his hands to rest them on her warm hips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning backwards until he was leaning over her. “My room,” he mumbled against her lips, but she pulled away to scowl playfully.
“You don’t have to take your clothes off,” she smiled cheekily, shrugging his coat off her shoulders. He stared down at her body and inhaled sharply, squeezing her hips. “It’s actually hotter if you leave it on, Father,” she teased, tugging his belt to encourage him, but she didn’t remove it. 
“You still want me?” He asked, kissing her shoulder. She pulled away and gazed up at him for a few seconds, confused by his question.  
“Yes…?” She started to unbuckle his belt slowly, waiting for him to stop her if he didn’t want her to go further. “Why are you asking?” She asked anyway, gasping when she felt two fingers push into her, her stomach fluttering. 
“I like the attention you give me,” he confessed as she worked his pants off faster. 
“Well…” she began thoughtfully, “you’re the most interesting person here.” Dean hummed in approval of her answer and slipped his fingers out of her to wrap them around his cock, teasing her wet slit like she’d taught him.
The word “good,” rumbled hotly through him and he pushed into her wet entrance, then grabbed her thighs to pull her to the edge of the table. Fully sheathed inside her, they both moaned quietly, her legs bending at the knees so she could press them into his sides, holding him close.
“There’s nothing good about my interest in you, Dean,” she purred sensuously, her fingers curling around the back of his neck, slipping through his soft hair. She pulled him down and kissed him, gratified by the arousal burning furiously in his green eyes like a forest on fire.
That look in his eyes was why she did this. Deep down, there was a purity in his soul she could never defile, not like she had done to everyone and everything in this church. The light within him burned so brightly, it could not be easily extinguished, and that was an exciting challenge she didn’t mind failing. 
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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 
do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform
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minefield-of-a-ninja · 2 months
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*images credited to Kim Kardashian Twitter, and CW photo stills
Anonymous Prompt: I really want demon dean stalking someone but I don’t know how to do that with consent? But guh just the thought of him.
Characters: Knight of Hell/Demon Dean Winchester x unnamed female character
Tags/warnings: 18+ only; this is not your mother’s Dean Winchester; stalking; exhibitionism; voyeurism; mutual masturbation; dirty talk; horny on aisle 3; fuck it, we ball
Words: 2,400
Author’s notes: #Mutual Masturbation for @jacklesversebingo
This did not turn out the way I'd planned, and it's not nearly as dark as I thought it would be. But I still love it! I hope you love it, too.
Thank you @brrose-apothecary @talltalesandbedtimestories @sam-is-my-safe-word @runawaydr3amerao3 @bigmouthlass for idea bouncing, and @stusbunker for the proof read and green light.
ENNUI
For some people, the passage of time is beautiful and magical; the smallest things are to be cherished. For others, time passing reinforces our connection with the world, marking each pulse of the rhythm of life. For her, time measures the loss and emptiness of what isn’t or will ever be again. 
Today is a milestone birthday for her. The days leading up to it have been punctuated by discoveries of new lines, bulges, and other undesirable changes to her body that remind her she’s steadily failing.
Since she had just two appointments this morning, she decided to close her office early and hit the pool shared by her HOA. Her neighbors are mostly professionals without children, and it’s Tuesday; she’s sure she’ll have the pool to herself to languish in the wet heat of July in the Midwest.
That annoying fucking saying ‘it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity’, comes for her breath and doesn’t leave. It seeps into the lining of her lungs, heavy and damp, slowing and weighting each step she takes toward the south-facing bank of chairs. Once she reaches the chair she always uses, she drops her canvas tote to the concrete and shrugs out of the sheer wrap before shuffling out of her sandals.
She bends to rifle through her bag for her tanning oil, and a faint chill begins to weave its way up her spine. 
+
Dean is sitting in the front seat of the Impala, swallowing the last bite of his Biggerson’s double bacon and cheese when she snags his attention. She walks with the measured confidence that speaks more of a dare than of enthusiasm. She’s alone, and everything about her vibe tells Dean that she’s more than comfortable with that. 
She doesn’t miss a beat as she makes her way to a randomly chosen lounger in a line of another dozen exactly like it. She lets her bag slip from her grasp, and her robe floats from her straight shoulders to join it at her feet.
She’s small in stature but she looks strong and fit—thick thighs and sculted arms, a narrow waist, and curves upon curves. Dean's never cared much about short, tall, fat, thin; he likes women and sex, and if he hits it off with someone, he’s down to fuck.
But this woman is a work of art.
He watches her dig through her bag, dragging his gaze from her delicate ankles and smooth calves and thighs to the generous curve of her ass. He imagines wrapping arms around her, lifting her to carry her to... bed, most likely.
He chuckles to himself. 
She takes a seat half-upright with her legs outstretched and applies oil to her bronze skin. He wishes he could rub it in for her. He lets himself believe she can read his mind, that she's doing this for him, putting on a show just for him. 
Why not? 
When she unties her bikini top to expose her full, heavy tits and dusky nipples, he doesn’t think twice about popping the button on his jeans and pulling his hot, persistently hard cock from his boxers.
+
As she had hoped, she’s alone at the pool. The small cluster of townhouses where she lives and the complexes on either side are as quiet as any Tuesday afternoon. Other than the birds and squirrels in the trees, she’s got the place to herself.
Well, and the old black Chevy parked at the Biggerson’s next door and the shadowy figure within. She may be cynical, but she’s self-aware, and she’s going to squeeze every drop of pleasure from this bland existence as possible. 
She’s always been an exhibitionist, definitely a thrill-seeker.  She pulls the tie at her neck until the triangles, scarcely covering her breasts, fall away. Then she splashes oil across her collarbones, letting it heat and drip down and around, and between her breasts. 
She flicks her shaded eyes to the car before hefting and massaging the full mounds of flesh, then sighs and nuzzles into her lounger. She bites her bottom lip hard as she pinches and twists her puckered nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.
She notices the figure shifting in the driver’s seat. They don’t start the engine or exit the vehicle. Instead, they lift a palm to their mouth and, she imagines, they spit before the hand disappears out of her sight once more.
“Fuck,” she whispers with a smile as she settles her head back against the plush headrest, dragging one hand down her torso and pushing it into her bikini bottoms.
+
That smirk.
Dean looks around the parking lot to find no one else around—it’s as empty as her pool area. He looks back to see that she’s planted her feet on the ground on either side of her chair, her legs spread open, and one hand working rough and slow in her bikini bottoms while the other pulls at her nipples.
“Fuck yes, sweetheart. Do it for me,” Dean mutters, twisting and pumping his cock. 
He grunts and groans as she pulls her hand from her bathing suit and lifts it to her mouth. She raises her head, then, and pushes two fingers between her luscious lips. She sucks and licks her fingers, taking her time, and Dean wishes she wasn’t wearing those mirrored sunglasses. He wants to see her eyes.
Are they blue? Green? Brown?
Is she watching him like he’s watching her?
After what feels like the longest and most uncertain staring contest, she pushes her fingers back between her legs. She doesn’t immediately put her head back, though. This time, she licks her lips and grips the edge of her chair with the hand she isn't using to fuck herself.
“That’s right, good girl, show me how you like it.”
He grips the steering wheel as he pumps himself until her mouth drops open and she starts to tremble. Her gorgeous tits bounce and her hips undulate, and, before he knows it, he’s spurting hot over his fist. 
+
She slams her head back against the headrest, sweating and panting even more than she was from the afternoon sun. She feels gooey and giddy, and light. She opens her eyes and heaves a sigh of satisfaction, pitching forward to look across the pool to Biggerson’s parking lot.
A flash inside the car lights a cigarette, and she catches the first glimmer of the dark stranger. He holds her gaze for a beat, the flame’s reflection dancing in eyes so dark they appear black, before throwing the zippo closed and roaring from the empty lot.
She sighs again as she sits up straight and ties her top back in place before standing, stretching, and striding toward the pool to dive in. The water is cool and calm as she strokes from one end of the pool and back again three times before barrel-rolling to her back to aimlessly float. A light breeze ruffles the leaves overhead, making the sunlight flicker like a strobe. 
After a while, she draws a deep breath before tucking into herself to blissfully sink to the bottom of the muted 4-foot depth.
+
“Sure.” Dean nods and rolls his eyes as Crowley nags him on the other end of the line.  
Crowley gave him a job, which is what brought him to her town, and he really should do it—to calm The Mark and keep the peace with the King of Hell—but he’d rather be knocking on her front door. 
Seeing her yesterday has completely derailed his plans. It’s been years since he felt an instant connection with someone like he feels with her. Separated by the green vining through the black chain link and shade inside his car, he felt her. He wants to feel more. 
“I’ll take care of it, OK?”
He isn’t lying, not really; he’ll take the guy out, just not right now. He’s... preoccupied.
“Now, Dean. Not tomorrow, not next week-”
“Yeah. I know. I’ll get it done. Bye.”
Dean cuts the line and tosses his phone to the passenger seat then looks up just in time to see her exiting her townhome. She’s wearing those stretchy kinds of pants women wear to the gym with heeled boots and a leather jacket. Dean has no idea what the fuck that outfit is all about, but her ass looks incredible. She takes even steps with her head held high. The view from behind her is infuriating. With every stride, her ass plumps and sways, and her wide hips tease him relentlessly.
He fires up the engine and puts the car in Drive before carefully pulling away from the curb to follow her. 
He pictures what she’d look like bent over the hood of the Impala. He imagines yanking those stupid fucking pants down to her knees and kicking her heeled feet wide. She’d moan and arch her back, presenting her perfect, bare ass to him. He’d smack it, and she’d yelp, begging for more. 
She’d beg. And he’d grab a fistful of her shiny black hair to twist and squeeze as he slammed inside her over and over.
“Fuck,” he groans, pressing the heel of his palm down onto his ever-present and now throbbing erection.
He watches her toss her hair as she turns into a storefront six blocks from her front door, and Dean slides into another parallel spot and waits.
+
The drugstore door closes behind her, and she’s instantly enveloped by artificially cooled air. One of the many things she despises about midwestern summers is the necessity of air conditioning. She procrastinates turning hers on inside her townhouse every season as long as possible, but when her clients begin to complain, she gives in.  
She doesn’t waste time browsing for anything other than what she came for—eye cream. Yesterday’s existential crisis is a distant memory, surpassed by him. 
She thinks it’s silly that he’s trying to be stealthy, parking a block down the road, like she didn’t see that ridiculous car of his in front of her house before she even opened her door. This game of cat and mouse is fun for her, though. There’s mystery and suspense. It distracts her from the mundane.
She pays for her eye cream and drops it into her handbag before replacing her sunglasses over her eyes. She doesn’t know the rules of this game they’re playing, but she’s never played by anyone’s rules except her own, so it doesn’t really matter.
Back out in the heat, she pauses before heading toward the restaurant to meet a friend for lunch. Sunlight beams off the chrome bumper of his car, making her squint even with her sunglasses on. She shields her eyes and tosses him a smirk, then turns to walk the other direction.
+
She sees him now, and she saw him yesterday.
That fucking smirk of hers is the guarantee he needs. Every step she takes and every move she makes is an invitation, and he has to think long and hard about whether that’s a good thing or not. Because he’s sure that not only does she see that he’s watching her, but that once she sees him up close and personal, she’ll see who he really is.
She’s a kindred spirit. He knows this as well as anyone knows when they find that person, that connection. He doesn’t know what the connection is exactly, but he knows it’s there, and it’s undeniable.
But can she hold her own with him?
He decides to follow her with renewed purpose. 
+
After lunch, she stops at a consignment shop, the florist, and the liquor store. She wanders along the selection of wines, row by row, waiting. She doesn’t have to wait much longer, though.
“Lotta choices, huh?”
The ticking of her heart speeds up from the sound of his thick, masculine voice. It’s only been 24 hours, but she’s been on tenterhooks, willing him to approach her, and it’s finally happening.
Then she turns to face him and gasps.
He’s gorgeous—tall, broad-shouldered, perfectly proportioned, defined, angular jawline, thick eyelashes, and a mouth that has her rapidly dampening her underwear. But it’s his eyes that give her pause. 
Sparkling obsidian. She wasn’t imagining what she witnessed yesterday. Then he blinks to reveal the most exquisite jade. Her skin crackles with anticipation. He’s like no one or thing she’s ever seen before.
She wants to know everything.
“Small talk? After all we’ve been through together?” she murmurs, shifting into him like he’s a black hole that will never let her go. 
She can’t- won’t deny him.
+
He narrows his gaze and slowly tilts his head, studying her face. 
“Honey, we can talk about anything you want.” He scans her bright, whiskey eyes and the straight bridge of her nose leading to the enticing pitch of her top lip. “But I’d rather do something else with my mouth.”
Her eyelids flutter and he chuckles, teasing the backs of his incisors with the tip of his tongue. He reaches for her, tucking one hand under the back of her hair and bringing her the last few inches closer. 
“Like what?” she whispers, and he meets her trembling lips with a firm, insistent kiss. 
“I think you know,” he mutters, turning and pressing her against the selection of Australian whites.
She hums, draping her arms around his neck. “I wanna hear you say it.”
Dean drags her flush against him by her waist and twists his fist in the back of her long, raven hair. And he tells her what she wants to hear.
“I’m gonna taste every inch of you.” He mumbles against her throat and lower. “I’m gonna suck those beautiful tits and bite your tight nipples.” He pushes a knee between her thighs and lifts until his leg meets the hot, damp crotch of her thin, stretchy pants, then scrapes his teeth over the shell of her ear. “And I’m gonna lick and play with your little clit until you're begging me to fuck you. And then I’ll lick you some more.”
She grinds over his thigh. “We gonna do this here?” she breathes. 
Dean huffs a laugh as he steps away, setting her back on her own two feet. He holds her hand and her gaze. “Yeah, I know how much you like an audience. But I want you naked and I don’t wanna share you.”
She swallows and nods. “What’re we waiting for?”
Dean grins and spins toward the door, leading her out into the afternoon sun.
Dean Winchester Masterlist | MJ’s Masterlist
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holylulusworld · 1 month
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A gentle scent (2)
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Summary: He’s your alpha now.
Written for @spnkinkevents SPN Omegaverse Week – Day 4 – Sunday, April 17 - Submissive Alpha and/or Dominant Omega
Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, late bloomer, dirty talk, cocky reader, needy Dean, Beta turns out to be alpha, true mates, possessive omega
Word Count:
Catch up here: A gentle scent
SPN Omegaverse Week Masterlist
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Eight months later, …
“She’s dead,” you growl low in your throat. “I will go over there and rip her throat out. Maybe I’ll make a nice puzzle out of her body parts.”
Sam inhales sharply. He already knows that you are very territorial when it comes to his brother, your mate, and newbie alpha. “Y/N, he only tries to get information from her. Dean would never cheat on you.”
You huff. “I trust Dean,” you roll your eyes at Sam’s comment. “This is about that woman putting her hand on my man’s bicep. She can scent me on him and still, that needy bitch touches what’s mine!”
“You’re a very possessive omega, huh?” Sam watches you clench and unclench your fists. “I’m not saying that this is a bad thing.”
“Stay out of our relationship,” you snap at Sam. “I’m protective, not possessive. Dean presented not eight months ago. He’s not used to omegas being all over him, or how to tame his alpha. My alpha needs a strong hand and guidance.”
Sam snorts. He never took his brother for a sub. It seems that Dean trusts you enough to give up control and let you guide him.
“That’s it,” you push off the wall to stalk toward Dean and the witness. “Agent, Hetfield, you need to come to an end. We got a new lead.”
“Oh, sure,” Dean nods. Your scent got stronger, and he knows, you are about to attack the omega touching his arm. He didn’t think much about it. The hunter always used his good looks and charm to get information out of people. It’s different now that he’s mated.
You wrap your hand around Dean’s wrist and tug lightly. “If you’d excuse us now. Me and Agent Hetfield have more people to interrogate.”
“Maybe we can meet up later,” she dares to say. “I’m off work at five.” She batts her lashes and smiles at Dean.
“He’s mated,” you grit your teeth and glare at the woman. “Do you have no shame?”
Before you lose control you tug at Dean’s wrist again and guide him away from the woman and toward his brother.
Sam watches his brother follow you like a clueless puppy. He snickers, already knowing you are going to throw a tantrum back at the motel.
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“Sweetheart, I’d never do such a thing. She touched my arm and I let her, to get her to talk to me. You know I only have eyes for you,” Dean whines when you throw your shoe against the wall.
You’re close to your pre-heat and angry at yourself for feeling the way you do. Dean would never cheat on you, you know that, but your omega can’t bear watching him near another woman.
“She touched you,” you wrinkle your nose. Even though you forced Dean to shower, you still smell her on him. “I can smell that bitch on you.”
“No, you can’t,” he murmurs, and steps closer to you. “I only want you, omega. You know that. No woman can compare to you. You took my knot virginity after all.” Dean grins now. “I hope you remember that you took it.”
“Of course, I remember that I turned a lost puppy into a feral wolf wanting to mate me anytime he gets the chance to do so,” you smirk and run your hand over his arm. “Now he’s a good alpha.”
“You helped me become a better man,” his features soften when you tilt your head in submission. You rarely give in to your nature and let Dean have control. “You know that I only want to put my knot inside of you, right?”
“I hope so,” you cup his crotch, lightly squeezing him through his pants. His cock twitches in interest, and you chuckle at his eagerness. “Because I only want your knot inside of me.”
“I hope so,” Dean mirrors your smirk. He tilts his head to expose his untouched mating gland to you. “How about you show every omega that I’m only yours…”
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TITLE: Sleeping already?
Summary: Dean and you had to take care of a Vampire Hunt but it lasted more than you guys expected. You finally found the time to crash in a motel room after days, but Dean didn't want to sleep...
Tags: Dean Winchester x female!reading, smut, 18+, biting, forehead kisses <3, oral (female and male receiving), penetrative s3x, cr3ampie, name-calling, daddy issues as always
Words Count: 3.6K
I love feedback! Please leave comments :)
English isn't my first language. I apologise for any mistakes.
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<<I'm fucking exhausted>> you said while throwing your bags on the motel floor, grunting. You smelled like gunpowder and blood and just wanted to take a shower and change into clean clothes.
<<I can't wait to go to bed Y/N>> Dean replied while entering the motel room. It was a shitty room, like usual but looked like a 5-star hotel at that moment. The two of you weren't sleeping properly for 3 days and were on the verge of collapsing. Sam found a nest but "couldn't stop his research", so Dean and you went to take care of it. It was supposed to be an easy job, but you couldn't track down the alpha, so it turned into a never-ending vampire hunt.
<<One bed?>> you said while looking at Dean's face and puffing <<Oh come on Y/N, it was the only room available, and I don't wanna sleep on the couch again!>> Dean was looking at you while saying that, his eyebags were darker than the usual and his eyes red with tiredness, he was trying his best to do his puppy eyes, even though Sam was better at that.
<<Okay, okay Dean>> you said while looking away and taking off your boots <<but I'm going to use the bathroom first this time>> you added while rubbing your forehead. <<Sounds right to me!>> Dean replied while taking off his leather jacket and shoes and sinking into the bed.
<<Don't you fucking dare sleep with bloody clothes on Dean Winchester!>> you basically yelled at him <<if we're gonna sleep together, you better take a shower and change 'cause I don't wanna sleep with the smell of blood in my nostrils>> you looked at him and then went in the bathroom to take that so needed shower, slamming the door behind you. As you said that, Dean opened his eyes and stood up <<It's not that we're gonna do anything, why do you care so much about it Y/N?>> he shouted so that you could hear from inside the bathroom. He had his usual flirtatious tone and was chuckling while telling you that, you couldn't see him but you knew he was smirking like the dork he is. <<You surely hope for it!>> you replied to him, giggling while entering the shower. Dean always teased you when the two of you were alone, he was like that, and it probably was his nature. Or at least, you thought so.
You wanted that hot shower to last another 3 hours, but at the same moment you wanted to sleep as soon as possible, so you decided to be quick and stepped out of the steamy shower. <<Fuck>> you mumbled since you forgot to bring your clean clothes to the bathroom. <<Dean!>> you yelled <<Can you pass me my bag, please?>>. Honestly, it wasn't the first time this happened. It happened to you, to Dean before as well. No need to be embarrassed about it, he usually would open the door a crack, and slide his arm in to leave the bag on the floor. <<You naked in there? Can I come in?>> Dean replied while giggling. <<How can you be like this in that state?>> You answered while smiling and rolling your eyes <<quick pleeease>>.
You were covering yourself with the towel and suddenly the bathroom door was completely open, Dean was holding your bag and smirking. He slowly entered the room and got closer to you, left the bag on the floor and whispered in your ear <<Here you go Y/N>>, and turned back to go out of the bathroom. You were blushing heavily and just muttered <<The heck was that Dean?>> while keeping your towel up on your body. <<I asked if you had clothes on, but you didn't reply so I just went in>> he said in a hushed tone while turning back to look at you, he had a big grin on his tired face. His gaze quickly looked at your body, starting from your ankles he looked up and reached for your face and your wet hair, he bit his lower lip and added <<Plus, I have to take a shower if I don't want to sleep on the couch, so be quick sweetheart>> then he got out. As he exited the room a sigh of relief left your body. You didn't expect that, and Dean was doing innuendos since the beginning of this hunt, the moment he entered the bathroom door you felt so embarrassed, but also so aroused to feel his gaze on your wet body. His gaze sent shivers down your spine and that burning sensation started to grow between your thighs.
You quickly dried yourself up, trying not to think about it, got into your pyjama, and left the bathroom. As you stepped out Dean was sitting at the motel table, beer in his hand. He stared at your body, at your shorts and your tank top, and then added: <<Took your time Y/N>> and got up <<My turn to get squeaky clean for later>> he smirked, took his bag and went in the bathroom, not closing the door behind him. For later? You thought it probably was one of his innuendos, he liked teasing people, and he was constantly making allusions, being flirtatious like always. The moment you heard the water running another sigh of relief left your body and you went to sit down on the bed. You stared at the king-sized mattress and blushed ...you were going to sleep with Dean...blood rushed up your cheeks and between your thighs. Oh, Dean Winchester, his face, his freckles, his charming smirks...they were constant thoughts inside your head. You tried to keep those feelings away by showing authority and keeping your cool but it was all useless. You covered your face with your hands and just hoped your heartbeat wasn't as loud as you heard it in your ears. You leaned back on the bed when you suddenly heard <<Y/N, Please come inside a second!>>, it was Dean's voice. You didn't think about it and rushed into the bathroom, thinking about the worst-case scenario already. The vampire was back? A ghost? A demon? As you stepped inside you saw Dean's wet body covered with a single towel, his shoulders, his chest, his tattoo, the bulge covered with the cloth... You quickly looked up and were immediately red with embarrassment <<What?!>> you asked while looking at his green eyes. <<Just wanted to see your face>> he told you with a smirk. <<Oh, come on!>> you replied and quickly turned to go outside again. <<no, wait>> Dean put his hand on your shoulder to stop you from going outside and then added <<I forgot my Samulet on the table, can you bring it to me? You know how much I care about it..>> his kind tone and his puppy eyes hit you and you just went to grab his goddamn necklace. You entered the bathroom again and Dean was wearing his boxers and brushing his teeth; he turned over to look at you and smiled <<Thanks Y/N>> he said and took the necklace from your hand. Seeing him like that made you crumble; you could feel juices running down your thighs. His body was still wet and his short hair dripping, he was brushing his teeth with one hand and holding against the sink with the other. He looked at your red cheeks and chuckled, looking down. <<What's so funny Dean?>> you asked him, trying to play it cool. He spat the water in the sink and added <<Nothing Y/N>>. He really liked teasing you and he knew what he was doing. It was so frustrating you just wanted to make him regret that. You knew how hard it was for Dean to not have alone time and privacy, and you knew it had been three days since he had the opportunity to "chill".
You went to bed while Dean was finishing doing his things in the bathroom. You decided to tease him a bit like he did with you, and you knew that Dean had his weak spots. You laid on your stomach, put your hands under your pillow, and lifted your right leg, your ass was basically showing through your shorts, and you knew Dean loved to see a woman in that simple yet arousing sleeping position. After a bit, though, you were actually falling asleep since the fatigue of those days hit you. Your eyes were closed, and you were dozing off when you heard the bathroom door closing behind you and a light thud, Dean leaned against the door frame and was staring at you. You couldn't see him since you were facing the opposite way, but you could feel his gaze on your body.
<<Look at you, fast asleep already?>> he asked you and moved towards the bed. You could hear his steps getting closer and closer and he finally sat on the bed. You slightly opened your eyes and muttered <<Turn off the lights, I wanna sleep Dean>>. He looked at you and smiled, he was wearing sweatpants and was shirtless since it was so hot those days. He was really hot too, to be honest, and you couldn't help but blush a bit while looking at his chest. <<Mmmmh, putting yourself like that and then falling asleep Y/N?>> he replied and caressed your face <<you really are cruel, aren't you?>> he added while smirking. <<What are you talking about Dean?>> you replied, half asleep. <<Oh, I saw you... Lifting your leg, your shorts, making sure I could see you...>> he said while smirking and moved closer to your face he whispered <<you really are sexy though>>, now your faces millimetres away. Your heart started pounding in your chest and your sleepiness disappeared in an instant. You looked into his eyes and whispered <<I-I don't know what you are talking ab- >> you couldn't finish the sentence as Dean pressed his finger against your lips << I notice how you look at me Y/N, and I love when you try to play it off with your bossy tone...>> he said << but we both know... How much you're aroused right now, and how horny you make me every single day >> he added. Blood reached your face and your thighs, Dean Winchester told you he was excited because of you, and he always knew how you were staring at him... you moved your hands and covered your red face, peeking through your fingers to look at him. He leaned closer to you and gently kissed your forehead, and then he finally laid his body on the bed next to yours. You got closer to him this time, uncovering your face, and he gently took your head and pushed it against his, he started to kiss you passionately, twirling his tongue into yours, gently biting your lips, and catching small breaths between one twist and another. He let go of you, his saliva was sweet and tasted like toothpaste and alcohol at that moment. <<I've dreamed about this for so long Y/N>> He said while resting his forehead against yours, his eyes now closed <<every time I saw you looking at me I couldn't help but imagine what I'd do to you..>> he added while smirking.
You could feel his smirk against your slit, he was pinching, rubbing, moving, thrusting his tongue inside of you. You opened your eyes again and saw his green eyes looking at you, a shiver reached your spine, and you started trembling, moaning, and breathing heavily... you cummed on his tongue and fingers. Your pussy was twitching, and you were muttering Dean's name.
He started folding your body, caressing your hips and waist, and then hugged you tightly. << I imagined that too>> you replied to him while blood was rushing between your thighs. You just couldn't believe what was happening and that Dean wanted that, he often kept you awake at night...with his sounds and his heavy breaths...motel walls are often too thin. Dean smirked and while he was hugging you, he grabbed your top and swiftly took it off. He started gently kissing your neck, biting it, and leaving his scent on it. His scent was often on your clothes: alcohol, gunpowder, and fast food. They were strange scents that meant Dean Winchester to you. He soon went down and started kissing your breast, folding it, pinching it, then he started gently sucking your nipples. As you felt his tongue on your sensitive skin a moan left your throat. <<Dean>>, you muttered. You could feel his grin against your skin. <<Yeah, sweetheart ?>> he replied while looking up into your eyes. Those green eyes... You felt juices running down your thighs as your eyes locked. You grabbed his head between your hands << You make me so fucking aroused Dean>> you said << I really can't with the teasing>>. He smirked and got up at your eyes level again <<Oh, baby girl>> he whispered in your ear << you have no idea how excited I am>> as he said that he bit your earlobe and pressed his body against yours, now on top of you. You could feel his bulge against your body, and you felt your panties soaking wet. You just muttered something as you felt Dean biting you, your whole body was burning up under his gaze and his touch. His hands started to caress your body again, gently touching your hips and waist, his touch was light and almost ticklish on your body. He stood up and moved closer to your lower body, he reached for your thighs and started fondling them. You felt his gaze on you, he slowly moved to your inner part, he was rubbing and squeezing them while looking at your red face. He slid your shorts off and started to kiss your inner thighs, you could feel his breath on you, his saliva; he started biting you, leaving his marks on your body. As he started biting you another moan left your body. He smirked the moment he heard you and started lightly stroking your slit with his thick fingers, your panties still on. You were dripping wet; you could feel your juices moving as he moved his fingers up and down against your pussy. <<You really are wet Y/N>> he said, in a hushed tone while kissing your thighs. <<Stop teasing Dean, I'm begging you at this point>> you replied while looking at him with tearful eyes. You were on the verge of breaking down under his touch, and that man didn't do anything factual, yet. << Oh Y/N, if you beg me like that, I really won't stop>> he was still finishing the sentence as he took off your panties and spread your legs open, your juices dripped on the bedsheets and your walls started tightening under Dean's gaze. You were completely naked, and you were burning under his eyes. He quickly looked at you, smirked, and then moved his face closer to your slit. <<Look at you Y/N>> he said and spread your pussy open for him to look at <<fucking beautiful>>, as he said that you felt his hot tongue moving against your cunt. You started moaning and looked down at him, your eyes locked, and you felt his tongue going deep inside of you, you couldn't help but arch your back and Dean started to rub your clit slowly. Fuck, he didn't need time to find it. He started pinching it and stroking it faster while his tongue was moving inside of you. You were dying with embarrassment and excitement at the same moment. You closed your eyes and grabbed Dean's face between your hands, you started running your hand though his hair and just screaming his name while he was going down on you.
He stood up and licked your juices from his fingers and lips while looking at you. <<I wanna taste you every night from now on Y/N>> he said, almost whimpering, and got closer to your face. He kissed you and your saliva and juices mixed together in a passionate kiss. He was twisting his tongue in yours as you started to reach for the waist of his trousers. He grinned while kissing you and quickly took his pants off. The two of you stopped kissing and you looked at his tight boxers, there was a big stain of precum where the tip of his bulge ended. You chuckled and started to move your fingernails on his length <<I wasn't the only one that was excited here>> you added while looking at him. The two of you were lying in bed, next to each other. <<Never said I wasn't >> Dean replied and quickly got on top of you, holding your wrists on your head and grinning. You giggled <<I'm not going to run away ...>> As you finished that sentence Dean kissed you and pressed his body against yours. Feeling his hard cock against your skin made you lose it...while you were kissing you started sliding off his underwear, the moment his member wasn't constrained in the fabric you felt it against your waist, a sticky drop of precum was on his tip, and now on your skin. You escaped from his hold and slid down. His dick was now against your face. Dean quickly got on his knees, and you raised up a little. You looked at him and started to gently play with his tip, moving your fingernails on it, pressing your face against his dick, teasing him...that was your revenge for all he did to you till now. <<Fuck..>> Dean moaned while looking down on you <<don't tease Y/N>> he said. You smirked <<Why?>> as you asked that with that bratty tone of yours, Dean leaned down and reached for your neck with his hand <<'Cause I say so, babygirl>> he whispered, and pushed your face against his cock. You were so aroused by his words. He often called you like that while doing his innuendos...he knew you liked that. You started going down on him, sucking him off, wrapping your tongue around his member, tasting his precum, and increasing your pace while looking at him. He started moaning your name and he started moving his hips while you were going down on him. You looked up and saw his chin, he was whimpering and he suddenly looked down and saw your eyes <Fffffuck>> he said and stopped moving, he sat down and leaned over your face <<I really want to fuck you Y/N>> he whispered in your ear. <<Please do>> you replied and leaned on your back, Dean was on top of you again and this time he didn't waste time, he rubbed his tip against your wet pussy and shoved it in. A moan left your body as his girth was so fucking big. He started to slowly move and he finally trusted his whole length inside of you <<Fuck Y/N>> he said <<You're so tight and...wet around me>>. You felt his sweat dripping on your body, his scent was so pervasive, you could smell the gunpowder, the alcohol, the toothpaste, the iron, his sweat... those odours were driving you mad. You started moving your hips faster and muttered <<please...Dean...harder>>. As you said that Dean put both of your wrists on your head and kept them still with one of his hands. With the other, he started to rub your clit and his thrusts were deeper, faster, harder... He was moaning your name while grunting, muttering, and swearing. His eyes were locked on yours and he couldn't stop moving his hips. His tick fingers were rubbing your already sensitive clit while his cock was moving so deep inside of you. You were on the verge of cumming when he leaned closer to you and whispered <<Please, Y/N, cum on my dick>>. You lost it. You started shivering and trembling, you sank your fingernails in his back and started tightening around his big dick. You couldn't stop shaking and were screaming his name. As Dean felt your pussy tightening his thrusts were even faster, he pressed his body against yours and moaned your name in your ear, cumming and twitching inside of you.
<<fffuck>> Dean moaned while panting, your body still pressed against each other. <<That was - >> you started talking <<amazing>> Dean concluded while raising his body and pulling his dick out from you. A shiver went down your spine as you felt that one last thrust. He was standing on his knees while you were laying on the bed. Cum started dripping out from your pussy, drenching the bed sheets. <<And that>> Dean pointed at you and then at your pussy <<That is a gorgeous view>> he smirked and leaned closer to you, giggling. He kissed you and then caressed your face. <<For real Y/N, you're beautiful>> he added and kissed your forehead.
<<I think that we need to take a shower again now>> you chuckled and smiled while looking at Dean's naked body. <<Yeah>> he grinned and took you in his arms <<Let's go>>.You giggled and nuzzled in his neck. He brought you inside the bathroom, left you on the toilet seat, and turned on the hot water. You could see his back and his pretty ass and chuckled <<So...is this going to happen often now?>> He turned over to look at you and replied <<only if you are a good girl, Y/N>>, a big smirk appeared on his face and he came closer to you, leaned over your face, and whispered <<also 'cause I love you, Y/N>>.
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songliili · 4 months
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Title: your body is the Sistine Chapel
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: Teen and Up
Chapters: 1/1
Words: 3,774
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural)
Additional Tags: Tattooed Dean Winchester, a journey in dean's life through his tattoos, Growing Up, Canon Related, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Canonical Character Death, Loss, Grief/Mourning, No Major Character Death, Light Angst, Tattoos, tattoos as tributes, Soft Castiel/Dean Winchester
Summary: When Cas dies, again, Dean decides to add some dotwork around it. Close-knit, almost filling in every blank space around the lines confining the original handprint, and gradually fading as they get away from it. Like the rays of the sun radiating from the handprint itself. At the center of all the black ink, Dean’s skin is now pink and a little paler than the rest of his body, but still there’s freckles decorating his shoulder. Angel kisses, someone says. Dean wonders if Cas really did leave kisses all over his body while he rebuilt him, but he doesn’t dare to ask him. Not yet. OR: what would Dean's tattoos be?
Y'ALL. i had this in my wips forever, i'm so happy it's finally out in the world. i am so so so proud of it and i truly hope you enjoy it!
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