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clairenatural · 6 months

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Dean doesn't like the word "boyfriend." He decides this the second time Cas says it–the first time it was new, shiny, exciting. The second time, he fights the urge to cringe.

It's not the "boy" part. It's not. It would have been, for a long time, but he's dug all that shit up and unpacked all the suitcases. They hold hands in public. They kiss goodbye in front of his coworkers at the garage.

It's just–not enough. Not nearly. Jack comes home from hanging out with his friends and fills Dean on the gossip and his boyfriend and her girlfriend and–that's not them. "Boyfriend" feels like a cheap mockery. Like how demons used to tease.

He's heard "partner." He's heard it from Sam, to Eileen, but he doesn't know how he can stomach it. He's said that word too many times. I'm Agent Tyler and this is my partner, Agent Perry. This is my partner, Agent Page. My partner, Agent Stills. All lies. Sam says he likes it, that he's making it mean something real. Besides, Eileen loves it.

Good for them, Dean thinks. It makes his skin crawl.

So he sticks with “boyfriend” and he shrugs off the funny urge to protest every time Cas says it. It makes him happy, and honestly, it’s not like he has an alternative.

It’s a Sunday when he realizes that somehow, Cas does. They’re at the farmer’s market, like Cas is every weekend, but Dean had picked up weekend shifts and missed the past few. Cas is excited the whole way there, telling Dean about how he’d manage to befriend the local honey vendor in his absence, how she’d invited him to a beginner’s apiarist group she helps run. They beeline (heh) to the honey booth as soon as they get there, and the woman--Judith? Janice?--smiles up at them both, hands Cas a jar of honey like she’d been expecting him, and says “Oh, this must be the husband! I’ve heard so much about you.”

Dean stares at Cas. Cas stares at the honey. Judith/Janice stares at both of them, smile fading as the silence goes on a beat too long.

Dean clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The husband, that’s me! Ha ha.” Beside him, Cas relaxes, just barely. In front of him, the woman breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Sorry,” Dean shifts. “Just didn’t, um. Realize I was such a hot topic.”

The smile he gets is almost sympathetic. “Oh, only good things. Here,” she hands him a business card. “You should also come out to our meeting on Wednesday. Lots of people bring their partners.” She leans in, almost conspiratorial. “Beekeeping can be wonderful for couples.”

It’s at this point that Cas clears his throat and finally looks up from the honey in his hand, evidently giving up hope on escaping this conversation. “Thank you, Janet.” (oh. Janet.) “Dean works late on Wednesdays, but I’m very excited to see you all.” He’s pulling out money as he says this, apparently deciding to just go ahead and end the entire interaction. He hands her the bills, grabs Dean’s hand, and is already moving away from the booth by the time Janet calls “See you Wednesday!” after them.

Cas drags him all the way back to the car without stopping for tomatoes, or Sam's carrots, or the free-range eggs that are way too expensive but Cas buys anyway because you can taste when the hen is well cared-for, Dean (whatever that means). They slide into the car, still not talking, and sit in silence for several long seconds. Dean stares at Cas, who stares out the windshield at the parking lot.

"I can explain," Cas speaks, finally, right as Dean was about to open his mouth and say anything to break the silence.

Dean pauses. Can you? Cause I feel like I missed a few chapters, he thinks.

"I don't work late on Wednesdays," he says instead.

"Oh." Now it's Cas staring at Dean, and Dean staring out at the asphalt.

He turns the keys. He drives them home.

Later, making dinner, Dean rolls the word around in his head. Husband. He's making his husband pasta (It's missing the tomatoes. He's made more with less).

Husband doesn't feel like a costume, like an ill-fitting suit and scratchy tie. It doesn't feel like high school gossip, or a monster trying to hit him where it hurts. It settles in warm in his chest.

It's just the two of them that night, and they're eating in the comfortable silence of the bunker until Dean clears his throat and brings it up. "Why does Janet at the farmer's market think we're married?"

Cas pauses, fork of pasta halfway to his mouth. He puts the fork down and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad," Dean hurries to clarify. "It's just that there's usually, uh. Steps, you know. Like a whole....thing."

"I'm aware." Cas sighs. "She assumed, seeing us around - the first time I spoke to her without you, she asked where my husband was. And I..."

"You didn't correct her?"

"...No. I, um." Cas is looking down at his plate again. He picks up the fork, still half-full of pasta, then puts it back down again. "I didn't want to?" He says the end of the sentence like a question but looks back up at Dean and squints just a bit, and Dean knows he's watching for a reaction.

"Uh huh."

"It felt trivial."

"To tell her we're not married?"

"To call you my boyfriend." For the first time, he stumbles over the word.

Dean blinks. "You--" he stops, brain processing too much information to finish that sentence. "Okay." He leans back in his chair. Sighs. Rubs a hand across his eyes and lets it drag down his face. "Okay, listen. I don't like boyfriend either, but we gotta...talk about it."

"We are talking about it. You don't like it either?" Cas leans forward as Dean slumps back, following him across the table.

Dean snorts. "No, man." He shakes his head. "It's been a decade. I've seen you die." Six times. But who's counting.

"I agree." Cas pauses, and then, as if it's the most natural conclusion in the world, "Will you marry me?"

Dean actually laughs at this. "You're asking me that now?"

Cas quirks an eyebrow at him. "I've grown quite fond of calling you my husband at the farmer's market. I'd like to continue."

Dean stares at him in disbelief. It's not how he'd pictured it going, but he also can't think of it going any other way. Slowly, he nods. "Yeah, okay. Let's be husbands."

Across the table, Cas grins at him.

"But we're getting rings," Dean points a finger at him, because something about this is going to be normal.

"If you'd like. Although I already told Janet that you can't wear a ring because of your work at the garage, and I don't wear mine in solidarity."

"Rings," Dean insists, and decides to overlook the rest of that sentence. For now. He stabs his fork into a pile of the pasta. "And let me stop for the damn tomatoes next time."

They get rings and wear them on chains around their necks. Cas puts a beehive on the hill, and there's a small ceremony in the summer - a "vow renewal" to Cas' beekeeping group, who all receive invites attached to little jars of honey. Janet gets the nicest one.

#mae clairenatural writing fic in the year 2023......#go easy on me im rusty #i started this a year ago and decided to finish it and that was PAINFUL #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #1.2k words #my words

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hintsofhoney · 1 month

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Ladies With Experience

Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When Dean makes an off-handed comment about "preferring ladies with experience", you try (and fail) to not let it get under your skin. You're a virgin, but you've done just about everything else, and when you talk to Dean about it, he offers to be your first. He's your best friend, and you've been in love with him forever... who are you to deny him?

Tags: smut, first time, virgin!reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom!dean, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, fingering, not-so-innocent reader

Word Count: 5k

A/N: As always, thank you to my loves @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing. Would be nowhere without you two 🥰

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“Anyways, let’s say you’re right, fine. Who would want virgins?”

You know Sam didn’t mean it like that , and you felt stupid for letting it bother you. For letting this case bother you.

“You got me,” Dean replied with a shrug. “I prefer ladies with experience.”

And there it was, like a punch straight to the gut. You hated that it hurt you as much as it did. So what, you’ve never had sex. But you’ve done almost everything else. You knew what you liked and what you didn't. You’ve been around the block a few times with the various sex toys in your nightstand drawer. It’s not like you weren’t experienced at all . But that didn’t make Dean’s words hurt any less. You swallowed down the burger and fries from lunch that were threatening to come up, before standing up from your seat at the small motel room table.

The brothers looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“I — bathroom,” you managed, before quickly making your way there, slamming the door shut behind you.

Staring at your reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror, you let the tears fall. Silently, you wiped them away as Dean’s words echoed in your head, and you hated that you loved him. Hated that you’d never be ballsy enough to admit it to him, especially now.

Something like five minutes passed and you knew you didn’t have long before one of the boys — likely Sam — would come knocking to check on you. You flushed the unused toilet so they wouldn’t suspect anything and turned on the faucet, splashing your tear-soaked face with cold water before using a hand towel to wipe it dry. When you emerged, the guys were packing up their duffels.

“Did you find them?” you asked, hopeful.

Dean checked his gun, before flipping the safety on and stuffing it in the back waistband of his jeans.

“I sure as hell hope so, ‘cause if I’m about to crawl through the goddamn sewers for nothing —”

“They’re down there, Dean,” Sam replied, giving him a pointed look. He turned his attention to you, and if he had noticed anything off, he hadn’t let his face show it. “You coming?”

You grabbed your gun off the dresser and holstered it in reply.

Six hours later, the three of you were sweaty, panting, and splattered in blood after a close fight with dragons in the sewers. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to wade in any actual sewage. You hadn’t said a word to either brother since you had gone to the bathroom six hours ago, and to keep them from growing suspicious of your sudden silence, you opted to take a nap in the backseat of the Impala on the way back to the motel.

You stirred awake as Dean pulled into the parking lot, barely conscious enough to catch the end of the brothers’ conversation.

“I’ll get her,” Dean said.

Sam nodded and got out of the car, gently closing the passenger side door before heading inside.

You rubbed your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them as Dean’s face came into focus. He was looking at you over his shoulder, one arm resting on the top of the front bench seat.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

It took a moment for the feeling you had been filled with prior to your nap to come back to you, his words from earlier echoing in your head. I prefer ladies with experience . You shot him a cold glare.

“Alright. What’d I do?” he asked, turning in his seat to better angle himself towards you.

The question caught you off guard.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You haven’t said a word since we left for that hunt, Y/N.”

“How do you know Sam didn’t do something?”

He replied with a knowing look.

You stared at your hands, clasped together in your lap, and muttered, “It’s nothing. Stupid.”

“C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.

You hated this. How easy he was to talk to. How you had always been able to tell him what was on your mind.

But not this . You couldn’t tell him this.

You shook your head.

“Hey,” he said softly, shifting in his seat. He was fully turned around now, reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at those green eyes. “Talk to me,” he repeated, no room for argument in his words.

“I can’t,” you whispered. You wanted to throw up. He was your best friend, and you were utterly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him. He preferred girls with experience, and you had none. Not in the way that it mattered. And he had known that, thanks to a late-night stake-out game of Never Have I Ever .

His jaw clenched. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

You briefly met his gaze. You couldn’t hold it for long.

“Was it something I said?” he prodded.

You stared at the buttons of his open flannel, your eyes quickly darting up to meet his in silent confirmation.

He sighed, pulling his hand away from your face and folding his arms on top of the backseat, resting his chin on his forearm.

“Do I at least get a hint?”

“Dean, I —”

“C’mon, Y/N. You’ve never not told me anything.”

“Why are you pushing this?”

“Because I can’t stand not talking to you.”

Your heart leaped at that confession, however innocent it might have been.

“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

“Because I’m making you. You would have silent treatmented me into next week.”

You didn’t respond.

He sighed again, defeated. “Y/N, c’mon. Please? Whatever I said, I’m sorry. I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t mean that you ‘prefer girls with experience’?” you retorted quite sassily. The question tumbled out before you even had time to think of the implication that came with asking it.

Dean opened and closed his mouth like a damn fish.

“Thought so.” You began to move to make your way out of the car, when Dean reached out and grabbed your wrist.

“No,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s okay if you do. I told you, it was a dumb thing to be upset about.”

“No, it’s not. I didn’t stop to think about how this case might have been affecting you. You know I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, right?”

You swallowed, nodded. His hand felt like fire around your wrist.

“But for what it’s worth, I wasn’t serious. I don’t prefer anyone one way or the other. Sex is sex. If anyone’s willing to have it with me, I consider myself lucky.”

“Romantic,” you quipped.

A smile tugged at his lips. “I could show you, y’know.”

You almost threw up right there in the backseat. Your eyes grew wide.

“What?” you croaked.

“Well, if you’re worried about not having any experience… I just mean I’d be happy to, y’know. Show you the ropes.”

“… Of sex?” Really, you thought it was cute that he had this misconception of you. You knew about the ropes. You’d just never been tied up with them.

“Of whatever you want.”

“You think I want to have sex with you?” It came out harsher than you meant it to, like part of you still thought you could hide the fact that you were in love with him. Like if you just joked it off it would go away, and you wouldn’t have to cross this line with him, even though you so badly wanted to. But you had to protect yourself, your heart.

You didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes.

“No, that’s not what I —”

You suddenly felt the need to clarify your question.

“No, I — I didn’t mean it like that either.”

Dean’s face morphed into one of confusion. “…So you do want to have sex with me?”

Your cheeks flushed red, and your throat bobbed. “Uh…”

“Forget it, stupid question, you don’t have to an—”

“Yeah,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Fuck it. Who were you to hold yourself back from the one thing you’ve been wanting for years? You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I really, really do.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Seriously?”

“Oh, cut the shit, Dean. Like you’re surprised. Everyone wants to have sex with you.”

He scoffed. “ Everyone , Y/N, really?”

“There are literally smutty fanfictions written about you,” you replied, reaching into your back pocket for your phone, dead set on proving your point.

“Gross. And Becky doesn’t count as everyone.”

“Actually, Becky only writes for Sam.”

You realized what you said at the same time he did, and he eyed you suspiciously.

“Why do you know that?”

God dammit. “I don’t. I mean — I — like, she obviously loves Sam. So, like, she wouldn’t write porn about you. Obviously.”

“Uh huh…” There was an uncomfortable silence for a beat or three. And then, “How much smut have you read about me?”

Your face felt like it had just been rinsed with fucking lava, and you knew it probably looked as red as it, too.

“None!” you exclaimed, way too quickly.

Dean smirked. “You do really wanna have sex with me,” he remarked, like he couldn’t believe it.

“Trust me, the urge is fading by the second.”

His grin disappeared almost instantly. “Would it help if I told you that I think about fucking you all the time, too?”

“Well, I don’t think about it all the —”

“Y/N.” He said your name like a warning, and the tone of his voice settled right in your core.

“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Yeah, that helps.”

“Good,” he smirked, before grabbing his phone from beside him.

“Uh… What are you doing?” You watched as he scrolled for a second, pressing a button before putting the phone to his ear.

“Telling Sammy to beat it.”

Your eyes grew wide. “What!?” you whisper-yelled. “No! Just — we can just do it back here!”

He gave you a pointed look. “I’m not taking your virginity in the backseat of my car, Y/N.”

“Why not!?”

“Because we’re not sixteen, for one. And for two… I wanna make it special.” He rushed the last bit out, like he was embarrassed to say it. And he should be. You cringed as you heard it.

“Oh my God,” you began.

“Shut up.”

“You did not just say that.”

“Shut up. Sam, answer your phone, God dammit!”

“I have done, like, almost everything else, you know. In the backseats of many, many cars. You don’t need to make it special for me, Deano,” you teased.

“For the last time, shut your mouth, or I’m gonna shut it for you,” he said, the look he gave letting you know he wasn’t in the mood to play. No, he wanted to fuck you. Beyond that, he wanted to dominate you. And you were more than happy to submit.

You might have been a virgin physically, but mentally? Mentally, you’d probably give Dean a run for his money.

Sam didn’t answer. Naturally. He was probably in the shower, but you were kind of grateful because as much as you wanted Dean, you didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable. Or worse, give him any reason to give you the talk . Because he totally would. After trying his brother two more times, Dean decided it would be better to just get a room of your own, and you were much happier with that decision.

You watched as he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping aside, gesturing for you to go ahead.

“Ladies first.”

“You mean you’re not gonna carry me over the threshold?” you joked. “Thought you wanted to make this special .”

He gave you an unamused look, and you shot back a sarcastic closed-mouth smile before you were being swept off of your feet and over his shoulder faster than you could process.

“Dean!” you squealed, as he carried you through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before practically throwing you onto the bed.

He was hovering over you seconds later, his face a few inches from yours, and the mood shifted from playful to serious.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

You nodded, your fingers coming up to play with the collar of his flannel.

“If I tell you something, you promise you won’t make fun of me?” you questioned, your eyes glued to the plaid pattern on his shirt.

“Promise.”

“I was kinda… holding out for you.” You drew your eyes up to meet his.

“Seriously?” he asked, half laughing. You could tell it wasn’t because he thought it was funny. It was because he couldn’t believe it.

You swallowed nervously, nodding again as you stared into those green eyes, and you hoped that this meant as much to him as it did to you. Something told you it did.

“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he said.

You tilted your head in question.

“About making it special for you. I know it’s like, the grossest thing I could have possibly said but, you deserve so much better than me, and so if —”

“There’s no one better for me, you idiot.” And you almost told him everything. That you’ve been in love with him ever since you met one summer at Bobby’s, back when you were just kids. That everything felt like it led up to this moment. That you wanted him to fuck you and make love to you all at once. That you didn’t want this to be the only time he did. But instead, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him towards you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt like it could have powered an entire country’s electric grid.

He deepened it, and the two of you were nothing but tongues and teeth and lips — it wasn’t sexy. It was hungry. Starved, more like. Like he had been thinking about kissing you just as long as you had been thinking about him.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips down towards your denim-covered core, down until you felt the hardness underneath his jeans pressed up against the spot where you needed him most, down until you couldn’t help but grind against it. He moaned as he kissed you, so you did it again. And again. And again. And —

“You need to stop that.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. You noticed that your arms were above your head, his hands pinning your wrists against the mattress. You don’t know when that happened, but you weren’t complaining. In fact, it spurred you on.

You smiled mischievously and rutted against him once more.

“What’re you gonna do about it, Winchester?”

He dropped his forehead to yours, steadying his breaths.

“I can fuck you like it’s your first time, or I can fuck you how I actually want to.”

“And how’s that?”

He took a shaky breath, like he was actually having a hard time controlling himself. You felt a sense of pride shoot through you at that.

“Like the fucking brat you are.”

You almost came from that alone.

Wanna know some common misconceptions about virgins? That they don’t have kinks. That they don’t watch porn. That they don’t have a plethora of sex toys in their nightstand. That they sit and crochet in their convent dorm room all day. Sure, you were years past the age when girls typically lose their virginity, but you were no saint. In fact, you enjoyed being quite the opposite. And you enjoyed being put in your place.

“Do your worst.”

It was like something in him snapped. His eyes were lust-blown and hungry and you didn’t miss the way his jaw ticked, and then he was undressing you so fast that you could’ve been part of a quick change act. He muttered something about a light system as he took off your clothes, and you nodded in a way that let him know that you already knew how all of that worked.

When you were down to just a black lace bra and panties, he paused as his fingers hooked under your waistband. He stared at you, his expression serious, and you knew that he was going to give you one more warning. One more opportunity to say, “Actually, I’d like to have a totally normal, non-kinky, first time experience, please.” But that wasn’t what you wanted.

“You sure you know what you’re asking for?”

You rolled your eyes. “I trust you. Put me in my goddamn place, Winchester. You’ve only been wanting to do it for the past two hours.”

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to do it for a lot longer than that, sweetheart.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, huffing a small laugh before pulling off your panties in one swift motion. His hands came to rest on your bare thighs as he locked his eyes with yours. “Any hard limits?”

You shook your head. “I trust you. I mean, like, don’t pee on me or —”

“Not gonna happen. But… most everything else?”

“Dean,” you began, looking at him pointedly, “I trust you. If it helps, I’ve used like, toys on myself before. And I don’t mean just a vibrator, I mean like… well, you get the gist.”

“So I don’t have to go easy on you, is what you’re saying?”

“Put me in my place,” you repeated.

“Alright,” he replied, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs as he roughly pushed them apart, “but just so we’re clear, that’s the last order you’ll be giving tonight.”

Your throat bobbed and you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

You meant it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. No, the title came out in a way that made his jaw clench and his eyes darken and it stoked the fire raging in your core.

Dean didn’t waste any more time talking after that, his tongue moving through your folds seconds later, drawing gasps and soft moans from your lips. You arched into him, your hands in his hair, silently begging for more. It wasn’t the first time a man had gone down on you, but it was the first time it felt like this .

He pinned your hips down to the bed with one hand splayed over your abdomen and then his tongue was inside you and “eating you out” didn’t come close to describing his ministrations. He was devouring you like his life depended on it, like the sounds you were making were a goddamn Zeppelin song that he wasn’t anywhere near done listening to. And then he added a finger, and then another, and it didn’t matter how many times you had imagined him doing this while you had your own fingers inside you — nothing would have prepared you for how good the real thing felt.

“Oh — fuck,” you gasped, and he chuckled into your sex and you had to actively think about not coming on his face and ending this whole experience early.

“You’re close,” he observed, flicking his tongue over your clit as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, and it was so fucking hot how he just knew that. It was like he had been fucking you for years, the way he knew your body, your tells.

You nodded. “Mmhm,” you confirmed, unable to form words with the way the coil in your abdomen was tightening.

“Hold it,” he ordered.

Your eyes shot open, because it wasn’t the command you were expecting, and you tried to lift your head to shoot him a cold glare but you couldn’t. And he just kept pumping, flicking, licking, chuckling — fucking asshole.

“Mm — fuck — please!” you cried out.

“When you come tonight, it’s gonna be on my cock. So hold it.”

You didn’t think you could. You had played this game with yourself and your vibrator and your self-control was majorly lacking and God his mouth and fingers felt so fucking good and you were there, the coil wound so goddamn tight, it would take nothing for you to let it snap, and then —

He stopped.

He pulled his mouth away from your core, his fingers out of your pussy, and you were writhing underneath him, because you had been right there and you needed him to be touching you again right the fuck now.

You whined.

He spanked your pussy. Not hard or anything, just enough to see if it was okay with you, and fuck, was it.

“Stop whining,” he demanded. He positioned himself so he was hovering over you again, his face inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes. “Or I’ll give you something to whine about.”

You were curious as to what that something would be, but sensed that right now wouldn’t be the best time for that question. You nodded instead.

“Good girl.” He smiled when he said it, like he knew exactly what those two words would do to you.

You squirmed underneath him, it had been too long since he’d last touched you. Too long being thirty seconds at most, but still. It had felt like hours.

“Has anyone ever told you,” he began, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on your collarbone, “that you are very,” another kiss to the other side, “very,” one more to the middle of your chest, “impatient?” He slowly pulled down the left cup of your bra, your breast spilling out of it. “Makes me wanna take my time.”

His eyes stayed glued to yours as his head moved down to your hardened nipple, taking it into his mouth at a goddamn snail’s pace. You arched your back, and he let you this time, chuckling at how easy it was to make your body react. His other hand slipped underneath you, unclasping your bra in a way that reminded you that he had a lot of experience doing so, and you refused to water the seed of jealousy that had sprouted from the thought. It didn’t matter that he had done this a million times. All that mattered was that he was doing it now, with you.

He pulled your bra off and threw it haphazardly over his shoulder, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were completely naked, and he still had 87 fucking layers on, the outermost of which was still speckled with dragon blood, and it’s not that you were anywhere near clean, but you certainly didn’t want those clothes touching your bare skin.

“Dean?” you rasped, and he pulled away from your nipple to give you his full attention.

“You okay, sweetheart? Do you want to st—”

“No! God, no. It’s just —” you sighed, exasperated. This was dumb. You were going to stop him for this? Your eyes landed on a spot of blood on the shoulder of his flannel. Yes, yes you were, because that’s gross. “It’s just that your clothes are covered in monster blood and I’m like, totally naked, and I don’t want —”

He chuckled like you were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “I gotchya, baby.”

Baby. Baby ? You tried not to overthink the pet name as he climbed off the bed to take his clothes off, watching you the entire time. Sweetheart, you’d been called a million times. He called everyone sweetheart. But baby? Baby was his car, and no one else. Unless, that’s what you were to him now. His, and no one else’s. You filed the thought away under “Things to Think About After You Lost Your Virginity to Dean Winchester”.

He was in nothing but his boxers now, his cock already hard underneath them, and you bit your lip as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slid them off. And then, there he was, exactly like you’d imagined him but also better, because this was real and happening. You gaped at him, at his size. He wasn’t any bigger than the fake one you had in your nightstand, but that one was nine inches and you could never fit it all the way in. He was perfect. All of him.

“You okay?” he asked again, crawling back onto the bed.

“Mhm,” you managed, gulping.

He was on top of you again, his forearm holding up his weight as his free hand came to grab your thigh, hooking it over his hip and leaning down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as he moved his hips, teasing you with it.

“Dean,” you breathed.

“Hm?”

“I want…” you couldn’t find it in yourself to finish your request.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered.

You decided you liked “baby” better.

“Please.”

“I thought you wanted me to put you in your place?”

You shook your head. “N-next time. Just, please .”

His eyebrows shot up, and you realized what you had said.

“Next time, huh?” he asked, with that shit-eating grin of his.

You rolled your eyes. He stopped moving, the smile wiped off his lips as he gripped you underneath your chin, somewhere between rough and gentle, the look on his face telling you he wasn’t messing around.

“Roll your eyes at me again, and next time I’ll really do my worst.”

You bit back a smile, and you just knew he was thinking, Brat. But you asked your question anyway.

“But not this time?” There was a devilish gleam in your eyes. You were tempting him, and he knew it.

“Do you ever get tired of being such a brat?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged. “Do you ever get tired of it?”

His jaw tensed, and he forced a sardonic, closed-lip smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Hm. But not this time, right?”

“Y/N —” he warned.

“Afraid you’re gonna hurt me? Scare me? What’s really keeping you from putting me in my place… Sir?”

For the second time that night, something in him snapped. You yelped as he flipped you over and grabbed your hips, dragging them upwards so your ass was in the air and your chest was on the mattress. Four hits to your cheeks came down in quick succession, and when you reached your hand behind you to block them, it was quickly pinned to the small of your back. Three more hits followed, accompanied by a pathetic, “Ow!” from your lips.

“Color?” he questioned roughly.

“So fucking green,” you replied, dazed.

Seven more hits followed, each one harder than the last, and you didn’t think there was anything better than the sting you were feeling right now. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to mark you up like this.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he commented. Five more hits.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried out at the last hit, one that felt like it reverberated through your entire body. One that definitely left a handprint behind.

“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question. He spanked you four more times. “You just wanted me to mark you up, is that it? Think of me every time you sit down for the next few days, hm?” Three more.

“Mmph!” Your cries were muffled by the comforter.

“Yeah, I can tell. Look at this fucking mess.” He dragged his fingers through your soaked folds. “Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath, and then he was flipping you back over. He nestled himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied breathily.

He slid into you slow and easy, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out.

“Good?” he asked.

“So fucking good.”

When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when the time did come, this was how you wanted to go out.

“Harder,” you encouraged, and he obliged. “Faster.”

He was properly fucking you now. Hard and fast and dirty. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, forcing him to go deeper. His head was buried in your neck, your nails were clawing up his back, and the room was filled with moans and pants and expletives that put a sailor’s mouth to shame.

“Shit, baby,” he panted into your neck. “God damn, you feel good. So fucking tight.” He sped up his thrusts, and the bed was squeaking so much that you thought it was going to fall apart underneath you, but you were too far gone to care. He reached a hand down in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, circling it expertly. You were on the precipice of your release in seconds. And then —

“Come. Soak that fucking cock, baby. Come for me.”

And you screamed loud enough to get both you and him kicked out of the motel if they cared enough as your orgasm ripped through you. He fucked you through it, his pace only faltering moments later, right before he pulled out and painted your stomach white. It looked like a Jackson Pollock on your abdomen. Kinda hot, actually.

“You okay?” Dean asked, looking down at you as he finally caught his breath.

“More than,” you smiled.

He mirrored the look on your face before crawling off the bed and heading to the bathroom. He came back moments later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning his masterpiece off of your skin. When he was done, he threw it across the room, aiming for the bathroom, and it landed on the tile in front of the toilet. He laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you wanted to ask so many questions, all at once. What were you two now? How long had he been wanting this? Would there be a next time? Instead, you opted for —

“You know in fanfictions, they write you as a submissive most of the time.”

He snorted. “They’re half right.”

“A switch?” you asked, surprised. “Lucky me.”

He chuckled softly. “Sorry about your ass.”

You shrugged. “I was asking for it.”

“Oh, you were definitely asking for it. Still, I… I dunno. It was your first time, I didn’t want to get too —”

“It was perfect, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, smiling, dozing off already. “Yeah.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester smut

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samsno1 · 3 months

Text

Celebrating

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

hi, heres what i promised to the dean girls! i don't know what to say, this is long and i don't know if the smut is good enough, might edit later, also, dean in this red jacket is my favorite

Summary: It had been a while since you got some and at night of celebrating a successful hunt you expected to finally, after a long time, get laid

Warnings: SMUT, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up), finger sucking, jealousy (? if you squint), oral f. recieving, fingering, dean is so in love ohmygod, english is not my first language, not proof read (if i forgot anything let me know)

Read it on AO3

WC: 4.7k

You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here

enjoy!

It was difficult for you to find anyone willing to spend the night with you in the current settings of your life, having to lie about what you do, who you are…Basically create a whole new personality just to be able to bring someone to your motel room. In that sense, it was frustrating, both sexually and mentally to be put in this scenery but, either way, saving lives was more important than getting laid, even if you were thoroughly stressed beyond comparison by your inability to find a guy (or girl).

You, Sam and Dean had gone to California for what you discovered, after great questioning and piles of research, was a simple salt ‘n burn of a poor ghost of a roadkill and was haunting that particular highway and crashing trucks of drivers who were mildly intoxicated behind the wheel.

After finding out where the bones were buried you went to the cemetery and started digging up the grave. Shovel after shovel of dirt fell behind you while you panted in exhaustion until you hit something hard at the bottom of the hole you dug up.

You harshly broke the wooden casket, revealing the remains of the ghost and a putrid smell hit your nose like everytime it happened when you had a salt ‘n burn. You scrunched up your nose and threw the shovel on the ground beside you, reaching with a hand towards Dean for him to help you get out of the hole.

“There it is.” You say proudly as you stare down at the decomposed body being covered with salt by Sam while Dean reaches for the alcohol in the bag and the lighter in his pocket.

You three watch as the bones light up in an orange fire, burning away what’s tying the poor soul to this world, the heat radiating in your skin. After some time you bump your shoulder with Dean’s, making him look at you.

“Let’s go, I need a shower so we can go out and celebrate” You say with a grin as you turn back to walk towards the Impala and Dean follows suit along with Sam, the fire slowly extinguishing itself behind you.

You opened the door to the backseat, the creaking of the hinges echoing through the night, getting inside and closing the door with a thud. Dean and Sam sat in their designed seats at the driver and shotgun, respectively, and you drove into the night towards the motel.

“I saw a bar not far from where we are staying” Dean said and you hummed and Sam nodded. “You two might have to come back alone, you know” He suggested with a smirk and Sam scrunched his nose and let out an amused huff and you chuckled dryly, a weird nausea bubbling in your stomach.

Deep down you wished Dean could see you the way he sees the bartenders and strippers in bars or clubs you three often go to. You didn’t know if he thought you were too rough, too scarred, both mentally and physically. You usually dressed up nice, using makeup from time to time when you noticed your eyebags were getting darker or when your lips looked too pale. You also tried your best with clothing, well, the best someone could do when you were a hunter. Either way, you never looked like those girls, they were absolutely stunning, even for you, and you couldn’t compete with them.

You shook your head. You were probably thinking these things because it had been some time since you last got laid. Tonight was your night, you were feeling it, you were taking someone to your room.

Dean turned the car off after parking and you got out, going to the trunk to get your bag.

“You guys meet me in my room? I’ll most likely take longer to get ready” You said with a grin and the boys nodded. You took out the keys to your room and got in, throwing your bag over your bed and going to another bag you had in your room, where you kept your “fancy” clothes and makeup.

You took out a beautiful black dress with long sleeves that ended in your mid thighs. It was a dress you thrifted when you went on a hunt alone a while ago and never had the opportunity to use it. When you tried it on, though, it hugged your curves in all the right places, made your body look amazing and you felt as confident as one could feel.

You left the dress over the bed and rushed to the bathroom to take a shower, smiling to yourself. You took your time, washed your hair thoroughly and finished it off in the usual way. In the hunting life you often get your hair very dirty almost everyday with blood, dirt, ectoplasm…you name it. So, keeping it lucious and healthy was a process that you grew fond of doing to recollect some of that normalcy that hunting didn’t give you.

You came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your body and picked up an underwear set that was, well, sensual to say the least and dropped the towel to the ground to put it on, the dress going over it, careful not to mess up your hair in the process.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and whistled in surprise at your own appearance, you looked good. Time for makeup.

You didn’t do much, a simple concealer, contour and blush with mascara and a smokey eye was enough to drop any man to the ground.

You decided to put shoes on because, first, if you really had to walk back, heels weren’t helpful, second, you didn’t have your heels with you at the moment.

While you were finishing up you heard a knock on your door. You opened it and there they were, Sam and Dean, practically on the same looks, just cleaner, waiting for you.

They both eyed you up and down, drinking your appearance in, Dean dropping his jaw slightly as he stared at your exposed thighs. Sam let out an impressed sigh and cleared his throat.

“Wow Y/N you look…amazing” He said and you smiled, looking down, feeling a tad bit embarrassed.

“Yeah…” Dean agrees, half on earth, half in his head trying to get rid of the thoughts of those beautiful legs wrapped around his neck while his nose deep into your–

“Well, thank you, I hope it isn’t too much.” You said.

“No, n–no, ha, it’s not, at all,” Dean said to quickly, finally grasping the courage to look into your eyes, the beautiful colors drowning him and your shy smile making him want to smash his lips to yours that moment. He cleared his throat. “Shall we go?” He offered.

“Yes, let me just get my phone” You said and went inside for a couple seconds, coming out with it and your wallet. “C’mon!”

You passed through them and went towards the car. Sam elbowed Dean to make him turn to him.

“You are staring at her like she’s a cheeseburger and you haven’t eaten in days, man” Sam teased and Dean frowned at him “You were practically drooling”

“I–I was not, okay? She just looks…pretty, that's all” Dean said, ignoring Sam’s ‘Yeah, right’ and going to the driver's seat in the Impala, you already sat down in the backseat. After Sam got in you all went to the bar and you felt particularly excited this time.

“Okay, every single one who tried to flirt with me was a disaster” You said, coming back to the table with a sigh, Sam and Dean almost laughing at you as you handed them their beers. “Seriously, who do I have to kill to get laid in this shit”

You took a swig of your beer and looked around once more, trying to find a decent man for you to take back tonight when you eyed a handsome black haired guy a few feet away. You smiled to yourself and got up from your seat.

When you walked up to him you didn’t see it but Dean was fuming with jealousy, this feeling bubbling up inside him that made his fists unconsciously clench over the table. He tried flirting with other women that night, chatting them up like he usually did but it all went down the drain the moment his eyes darted to you again, a guy practically snuggling up to you while you gently pushed him away and refused his advances, either not finding him attractive or just not feeling a spark.

He should be the one you looked at, he knew everything about you, how you liked your coffee, your favorite drinks, the faint lines that would appear around your lips when you smiled, the way your eyes lit up when you were talking about something you enjoyed. He knows you.

Sam noticed his brother’s demeanor and called out to him to snap him out of his jealous haze. Dean turned his eyes to Sam and he had this stupid smirk on his face, sipping the beer once again to hide his amused smile.

“What?” Dean snapped, his hand wrapping around the bottle, the cool glass doing nothing to ease his temper down, his knee going up and down under the table with nervousness.

“Nothin’” Sam answered and finished his beer, getting up and leaving a couple dollars, enough to pay for the beers he drank. “I’m going back, y’know, tired. Tell Y/N”

Dean nodded, he didn’t know if Sam meant for him to tell you that Sam went back or that you’ve been in his dreams for months now, not all of them cute and fluffy, some made him wake up with a hard-on, sweating and longing for you.

He looked in your direction and you were coming back with an annoyed face, arms crossed in front of you, feet stomping the ground. Dean made a confused face and when you got back to the table you sat down on the chair with a scoff, his eyes never leaving you.

“He has a girlfriend” You murmured and then realized you were one man short “Where’s Sam?”

“He called in, tired” Dean said and you hummed. He had a weird look on his face, something you couldn’t make out what was. You sighed and looked down.

“I think we should go too, this night was disappointing to me” You breathed out a laugh “I’m impressed you didn’t find anyone, I saw some girls eyeing you”

“Nah, I’m fine,” He said and finished his beer. You widened your eyes at him but didn’t say anything, just nodding hesitantly in shock. “Let 's go?”

He said getting up and you mirrored him, pulling your dress down a bit, Dean’s eyes on you all the time. He bit his lower lip and mentally told himself to cool it.

As you two walked towards the car you couldn’t help but look at him up and down, silently appreciating his figure. His strong jawline, his green eyes now dark thanks to the night, his slightly crooked nose that made him look unique.

When you got into the car, in silence, you drove back to the motel and you felt an unmistakable tension in the air and you were worried you might’ve done something to upset the man. You started to fidget with your fingers over your lap, the street lights going past the car through the window as Dean sped up through the pavement.

His hands gripped the wheel, holding back the urge to pounce on you right there and then. When he parked the car and reached for the door handle you held his wrist.

“Wait! Dean, is something the matter?” You asked, big eyes looking into his as he looked at you, noticing the trouble behind those beautiful orbs. He wanted to punch himself in the gut for making you feel bad. “What happened?”

“Nothing it’s just…” He trailed off and looked at your hand wrapping his wrist. His other hand enveloped over it and your skin flared up with goosebumps. He felt warm, rough, his strong grip comforting. You took your hand away from his wrist, allowing his hand to wrap over your and pull you into him.

You yelped and was about to question him when you felt his plump lips against yours, his other hand hesitantly holding your cheek and you melted. It took you a while to process what was happening. Dean Winchester is kissing you. Though, when you did, your free hand went to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss.

Everything felt like a fever dream and you were afraid that if you pulled away you’d wake up and Dean would be gone. His lips had a taste of beer lingering from the night out, they were full and smooth. You felt like you were drowning in this feeling until Dean pulled away, seeking a breath of air.

You looked between his eyes, your breaths molding into each other from the closeness. You moved the hand he was holding up his chest, to his shoulder, up to his cheek, his eyes closing and his head snuggling against your hand, his fingers fidgeting around your wrist.

He opened his eyes, a thousand feelings swimming behind his green orbs as you both communicate in silence, an agreement, a revelation. You smiled and pulled him in again, this time with no hesitation. His hand went down your arm slowly, your skin warming up where his hand passed by, and settled by your waist, pulling you closer. His tongue teased your bottom lip and you eagerly opened your mouth with a low moan.

At that, he smirked into the kiss and pulled you over his lap, the steering wheel digging into your back, his hands both placed at your hips as you unconsciously rocked against him. He let go of your mouth again and you stared down at him.

“I wanted to do this so bad” He whispered and you smiled, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck mindlessly. He placed a loving kiss at your jaw and pulled away again while you hummed, content.

When you looked at his face again there was a frown and he was avoiding your eyes. You grabbed both his cheeks and made him look at you.

“What was that thought, hm?” You ask lightly as to not push him away. You didn’t want this to end, not ever. He seemed nervous.

“What does this mean to you?” He asked and you furrowed your eyebrows. “To me, Y/N,” he continued, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs “you’re everything, I mean, you– you’re perfect. You’ve seen everything I’ve done and never let me down, you’re beautiful and so much more. If to you I’m just a way to get off then–”

You cut him off with a peck on his lips.

“Stop. Right there.” You started, looking deep into his eyes. “Dean I– you are everything I’ve ever wanted, needed. You mean more to me than words can describe, you’re not just a one night stand, you’re my dream”

When you finished, he didn’t waste a second to wrap a hand behind your neck and steal your lips again, his mouth addicting. There was so much passion, feeling and desire pumping through your veins.

Your dress was high on your thighs and one of his hands squeezed the flesh hungrily, making you groan in his mouth. He went further with his hand, his thumb caressing over your covered sex and you opened your mouth in a whimper.

Dean attacked your neck with kisses and hickeys, his teeth leaving a pattern over your skin as his hand ghosts over where you need him the most.

“Dean…” You say, a beg behind your words and he pulls away, both his hand and his mouth, making you shiver from the lack of contact and the cool feeling his saliva left behind over your neck.

“Sweetheart, as much as I’d like to have you in the car,” He said, his voice rough and deeper with lust, his pupils wide as he opened the door, a cool breeze coming in that did little to nothing to cool your skin off. “you deserve a bed, another time” He finished, leaving an open mouthed kiss under your ear.

Another time. You nodded, words failing you as you stepped out of the car, adjusting your dress and hair the best you could to seem decent. Dean stood up behind you and let a hand linger on your waist, eager to touch you at all times and all ways.

You both walked towards the door of your room, Dean’s fingers tightening on your skin the longer it took for you to get the door open. The moment you were able to open it, he pushed both of you in, turning you around and pinning you to the door inside, closing it with a loud noise behind your back and his lips were on your again, his hands roaming over every inch of your skin.

You yelped in shock but soon reciprocated the touches and kisses, your fingers wrapping around his jacket and pulling it off, his hands momentarily leaving you to drop it to the ground. When his hands came back he grabbed both your legs and lifted you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips for support, his fingers digging into your skin yet again.

Your hands pulled on his hair, your tongues battling in a messy kiss when you feel your body move to the bed, your body being gently placed over it.

Dean pulled away, standing up fully and you took him in with a bite of your lip. He unbuttoned his flannel, slowly and you lifted your dress over your hips, lifting them off the bed to help, revealing your panties and over your head to take it off completely and throwing the fabric away.

Dean’s breathing got heavier, the confine of his pants bothering him as he finally discards the flannel, torso naked to you. You drink his defined physique with hooded eyes and he smirks down at you, his head going close to the waistband of your panties, eyes never leaving yours as he leaves kisses from your hips to your stomach to the valley of your breasts until he came face to face with you again, a smile lingering in his lips making one of your own appear on yours.

Your hands grab at his cheeks and pull him in again as he holds you by your waist, pulling your near naked torso into his. His fingers ghost over every inch of new exposed skin as if he was memorizing every atom of your being like you were going to disappear.

Your hands start to explore over his chest, the strong muscles flexing against your palms, your nails scratching at his wide back and shoulders.

His hands travel behind your back to unclasp your bra and you let him, letting the undergarment go loose against your breasts and Dean takes it off. He drinks the view in, staring and you start to feel self-conscious and take your hands to cover yourself up. Dean catches onto that and kisses you again, one big hand grabbing at your right breast and you whimper in his mouth.

“I always knew you were beautiful” He whispers against your lips and pulls back to look at you again “But you are the most perfect thing I’ve ever laid eyes on”

This time you turned away from him with a stupid smile on your face.

“Says you” You say and turn to him again, your hands over his shoulders and moving towards his back “Your back is a perfect place for my nails to dig in” You whisper seductively on his ear and leave a hickey on his neck. He groans and lowers his head to wrap his mouth around one of your nipples, the warm feeling against the sensitive nub making you arch your back into him and your fingers to tangle in his hair.

“Dean, fuck–” You moan as he gently bites your nipple and moves to the other breast, his eyes looking at you from below and drinking in your noises.

One of his hands sneaked up your inner thigh and teased your clit over your panties and you shivered, a smirk on his lips against your breast. He slowly took your panties off, discarding them on the ground and now you were completely bare below him, vulnerable.

His middle finger pressed over your clit and you arched again.

“Dean, please…” You beg, your best attempt at puppy dog eyes looking down at him and he adds his ring finger, starting to do slow circles over the sensitive nub as he kisses up your neck, your noises of pleasure egging him on.

He lowers his fingers to your entrance and he slips both in with no restraint given your wetness, the feeling making you let out a moan and grab onto his shoulders as he hooks his fingers inside you, touching that special spot.

He smirks smugly and continues his ministrations, your pussy clenching and tightening around his fingers making him groan.

“You’re so wet” He mumbles “I wonder how you taste like” He gives your nose a peck, your mind too drowned in pleasure to respond to his words. He kisses down your body, his fingers never leaving you, until he's facing your cunt. He places both your legs over his shoulders, your thighs resting around his cheeks, the light stubble leaving a tingly feeling behind.

He leaves a lingering kiss over your clit and you buck your hips, looking for more friction. He teases a bit more, biting and sucking at your inner thighs, everywhere but where you needed his mouth to be. You took charge and grabbed at his hair, pulling his face closer and he complied.

“Oh, fuck!” You groan.

His tongue licked at your sex and your loud moans echoed through the walls, the warm muscle doing wonders against you and the mix of his fingers bringing you closer and closer to the edge, your eyes fluttering close in bliss.

“Dean, God” You moan as he squeezes your thigh. All the ministrations send shivers down your spine, your core tightening inside you, that familiar rush of warmth spreading through you. Your thighs try to close, forgetting Dean’s in between and he hums against your cunt, the vibrations making you feel like you were in heaven. “I’m cumming”

“Cum for me princess” He mumbles and you let go with a chant of his name. The feeling washes over you, making you feel lighter for a couple seconds, Dean helping you ride out your orgasm. When the stimulation becomes too much and you whine and squirm away, he gets up from his knees, chin glistening in your juices. He took his fingers out, a grunt scaping your throat at the emptiness. It was a sinful sight.

He crawled over you again, his middle and index finger teasing at your bottom lip.

“Open up” He said, voice deep and demanding and you obeyed, opening your mouth and letting his fingers in. You lick your juices clean off his fingers, never breaking eye contact, humming and moaning against his digits as Dean bites his lips with force. Your hand travels down to unbuckle his belt and he takes his fingers away from your mouth to kiss you.

Once you got the belt open, Dean backed away, taking his shoes off and unzipping his pants. Meanwhile, you drank in his appearance. His hair was a mess, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin, his arms flexing as he lowered his pants along with his boxers. He was divine.

When he dropped the jeans his eyes drifted back to you, catching you staring and he smirks.

“See something you like?” He asks, closing the gap between you again, smashing your lips to his in yet another breathtaking kiss.

He completely lies you down on the mattress, his elbows supporting his weight over you as his cock bumps against your sensitive sex and you gasp, hand gripping the back of his neck.

“Fuck me” You say, bluntly and whiny but he gets the hint and aligns his member to your hole.

“Yes Ma’am” He says and starts to insert himself inside you, an immediate groan coming out of both your throats, his forehead dropping to the nape of your neck as his fingers dug into your hips, holding himself back to not slam into you at full force. You felt amazing around him, the warmth of your walls made him never want to go away.

“Oh my God” You moan as he slowly goes deeper, his cock throbbing inside you. Once he bottomed out you were breathing heavier than ever, pupils blown and nails teasing at his back. “Dean”

“I’m right here sweetheart” He reassured you and left kisses over your shoulder to distract you. You grinned at his sweetness and rolled your hips against his, a sign that he could move.

“Move, please, I want to feel you” You mumbled and he obliged, instant pleasure going through your body.

“God, Y/N” He moaned close to your ear as he went faster, your moans getting louder.

He smashed his hips against yours, eyeing the way it went in and out, being deliciously consumed by your cunt, glistening with your slick and cum. He stared at you, your fucked out state, the way you were a moaning, whimpering mess beneath him and he felt proud to be the reason you were like this.

You felt every inch ripping your insides, Dean’s hands roaming through your body as his lips left bite marks and kisses around your skin. His lips wrapped around your nipple and everything just added more to the pleasure when his tongue circled around your nipple.

“You’re so pretty” He groaned after pulling away from your breasts and felt that familiar feeling go through him as your pussy clenched tighter around his cock. He was close and he knew you were too. His hands traveled both down to your lower body, one pressed over the skin under your belly button and the other circled your clit messly.

When he pressed down over your lower belly you felt him impossibly deeper and grabbed at the sheets underneath you to ground yourself to reality.

“Jesus– Fuck Dean, please!” You moaned incoherently as that bubble inside you was about to pop “I’m gonna cum, baby, please” You moaned again and you knew he was close to, his hips stuttering and losing rhythm.

“Cum with me Y/N” He said and not even seconds later you unraveled beneath him, your high hitting you like a bus, a loud moan rippling through your throat and Dean pulled out, cumming over your stomach, his chest heaving with his breaths.

Dean forced himself to get up and get a wet towel to clean you up in the bathroom, coming back and gently wiping away the fluids. You were spent and at the same time as happy as you could ever be.

You adjusted yourself in the bed while you waited for Dean to come back from the bathroom after discarding the towel, his naked shadow visible thanks to the light inside. When he walked out he smiled at you and snuggled beside you, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping an arm around your waist.

You were both silent for a while until he spoke up.

“I love you so much” He said “And no, this is not post sex haze, I’ve loved you for so long” He admitted quietly above you and you felt your heart beating ten times faster at his words. You looked up at him and placed a gentle hand over his cheek to make him look down at you.

“I love you too, dumbass” You say with a chuckle and kiss him deeply again, pouring all the love you knew you felt towards him into the kiss.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo.

1K notes · View notes

mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 7 months

Text

Lost Comfort

masterlist

summary: dean hurt you when he was a demon, now it’s hard to sleep next to him

paring: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language, violent themes

word count: 1.1k

warnings: please read! talk of serious sexual assault, demon!dean being worse than he was in the show, (he wasn’t even that bad in the show, but he’s bad in this), language

“Dean, stop, this isn’t you!” you shrieked, pushing the demon’s arm away. It was no use. Dean was stronger than you when he wasn’t a supernatural being, but now you didn’t even stand a chance.

“C’mon, sweetheart, I know you love me,” he laughed, black eyes staring at you.

“Of course I do Dean, but I know you love me too and this isn’t love! Please get off of me!” you sobbed.

Your eyes flung open, a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead. You blinked away the dream and took in your surroundings, before realizing Dean’s arms were wrapped tightly around you.

“Dean, let me go,” you said. It came out as barely a whisper. Even if he was awake he wouldn’t have heard you. “Dean, please- fuck, let me go!” you repeated, but you were still barely speaking. “Dean let go!” you screamed, which woke him up.

“Y/n?” He furrowed his brows. “Hey, you okay?”

“Dean let me go! Now!” you cried. He flung his arms open and you hurried out of the bed. “God fucking damn it! I told you to let me go and you didn’t!”

“I- I’m sorry, hun I was asleep I swear I didn’t hear you,” he said quietly as he sat up.

“This was a mistake, I can’t sleep next to you! What was I thinking?” you scoffed. “I’m sleeping in the Dean Cave, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait, no don’t go! I’ll go sleep on the couch, you stay here!” He got out of bed but didn’t miss the flinch you threw when he walked towards you. “I’m so sorry.”

Sam suddenly burst through the door; gun in one hand and holy water in the other.

“What happened? He a demon again?” Sam asked you, his eyes wide.

“Just a bad dream.” You shook your head. You brushed past Sam and walked towards the Dean Cave before stopping in your tracks. You hurried back to yours and Dean’s room.

“I still love you, Dean, I just need a bit of time, okay?” You smiled sadly, noticing the tears now on his face as he nodded.

“I love you, take all the time you need,” he replied.

With that you left.

“Dude, what the fuck happened?” Sam asked, putting his gun and the holy water down. “She’s never left you after a dream before, has she?”

“I- I think the dream was about me,” Dean whispered. “Fuck, I really hurt her this time Sam. I- I don’t think she’s gonna be able to forgive me.”

“This is Y/n, Dean,” Sam started, “she’d do anything for you. I think she just needs time.”

“But you don’t know what I did.” Dean let silent tears fall as he thought about what his demon self had done to you.

“I mean, it couldn’t have been that bad?” Sam scoffed a little then Dean looked at him. “Right?”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head, looking down. “I r-ruh—god, I can’t even say it out loud.”

“Oh god,” Sam muttered, internally jumping to (correct) conclusions. “It’s been like two weeks, Dean. Of course she can’t stand to sleep next to you.”

“But it wasn’t me!” Dean cried. “I hate myself so fucking much for taking this stupid fucking mark and letting it consume me.”

“Dean-”

“Don’t get me wrong, I do not blame her if she doesn’t wanna ever see me again, but fuck! I’d do anything to fix this.”

“Just give her space.” Sam shrugged. “I think that’s all you can do right now. Whatever future your relationship with her has, is completely up to her.” As he turned to leave, he added; “But also be prepared for her not to forgive you for this. I don’t think she’ll be able to.” With that Sam left.

“Dean please!?” you screamed. “Dean, I love you! I know you’re in there somewhere, please stop!”

You woke up alone in the Dean Cave, beads of sweat rolling down your temples.

“Shit!” you mumbled, letting tears fall.

You sat up on the couch and tucked your knees into your chest. You checked the clock and realized you’d only gotten about forty-five minutes of sleep since your last dream.

You tried to go back to sleep but every time you closed your eyes you were met with the horrid memories; Dean hovering over you with his demon eyes.

You tossed and turned for a while before you realized there was only one person in the world who could make you feel better and he was the one person you couldn’t stand to touch right now. You huffed to yourself as you got up and left the Dean Cave.

When you opened the bedroom door you were met with Dean crying softly into your pillow, facing away from the door.

“Hey,” you said quietly, your voice laced with trace amounts of fear. His eyes flung open and he slowly sat up.

“Hey, uh- what’re you- what’re you doing here, uh, Y/n?” He stumbled over his words and wiped his tears away with his hands. He put his feet to the hardwood to stand up but you backed away and shook your head. You didn’t want to be that close to him.

“I- I’m still scared of you, I’m sorry,” you whispered. “But I love you,” you added quickly. “I love you so fucking much and I know I can’t sleep next to you, but I can’t sleep properly without you. So, I uh, I’m just gonna sleep in here… on the floor.”

“What? Honey you can’t sleep on the floor,” Dean said. “I’ll sleep on the floor, you can have the bed.”

“No, cause then I’ll feel bad about kicking you out of bed,” you mumbled, causing Dean to smile a little.

“How about this; we both sleep on the floor by our sides of the bed. That way neither of us feel bad about the other, we’re far enough apart, and we can see each other from under the bed.”

“I’d like that.” You smiled softly. “Can I maybe use your pillow though, looks like you soaked mine,” you laughed a little, causing him to do the same.

“I’d actually prefer to use yours,” he replied and tossed you his pillow. “Smells like you.”

You took a whiff of the pillow now in your hands. “Is that the aftershave I bought you?” He nodded with a smile. “Perfect!”

You waited until Dean was on the floor of his side of the bed before you went to your side and laid down. When you put your head to the pillow, you were met with Dean’s soft smile a few feet away.

“Is this okay?” he asked, you nodded.

“I love you, Dean,” you whispered. You reached an arm out under the bed so Dean did the same, your fingers touching in the middle.

“I love you so much, Y/n.”

#spn #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester fic #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 2 months

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The Most Innocent Sinner

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: For everyone, she's the shy, pure, little Y/n. Dating Dean Winchester is like going on dates with the complete opposite of her. So it is a very nice surprise when Dean learns how kinky she actually is by finding her collection of sex toys.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Content warning: Sex toys, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk

Square filled: Dildos for @spnkinkevents / “Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home.” for @jacklesversebingo / masturbation for @anyfandomkinkbingo / “Unfortunately, I’m turned on by that.” for @anyfandomgoesbingo

A/n: Finding a title is so hard. I got stuck on this one for way too long. Big thanks to my friends that helped me!

From the outside, Y/n looked like a Saint. Cute, she wasn't very tall and almost sickly shy, and her social anxiety didn't help her case at all.

Since she didn’t have many friends, Y/n spent her time at the library surrounded by stories that made her forget how alone she felt. The characters on these yellowed sheets would never judge or criticize her, it was a comfort in which she really liked to immerse herself, especially after a hard day.

It was also where she met the Winchester brothers for the first time.

For someone like Y/n, the complete opposite of popular, invisible to people even when she was in the same room with them, the Winchesters were the pinnacle of perfection. Bodies built like gods, well-defined faces, piercing eyes, they gave off a strong and dominating aura that attracted the gaze of everyone in their path. And Y/n was no exception.

The moment the two brothers walked near her table at the library, there was no longer any need to read. Her book closed by itself in front of her, as she no longer held it open, her eyes fixedly stuck on the two men. Following their directions with her gaze, she turned her head, almost hurting her neck.

The colors around her suddenly seemed more vivid. The sounds, sweeter to the ear. She strained her ear to better listen to their conversations. And it was then that the stories she loved reading so much... Became reality.

Y/n had always had a habit of making herself fade away. Not wanting to attract attention, remaining discreet and making herself as small as possible. But the moment she saw them, it was like a light bulb went on inside her, and filled her with a life she had never really felt. And she decided to change that.

She didn’t want to hide anymore.

It was an adventure awaiting her, just like in her books. Filled with villains, monsters, but also angels, laughter, food and finally, a place where she belonged. It didn't take long for her to take part in their lives, quickly becoming a full member of their families. Although she wasn’t trained to be in the field hunting monsters, her lifelong experience of extensive reading was too vital and important to refuse her help.

Initially, Y/n was assigned to research. It was perfect for her, she could show them how efficient she was at this task so they would give her more to do eventually. Quickly, she climbed the ranks in the Winchesters' trust and became closer to them.

Everything about her personality was perfect to fit with Sam's. And yet, as the months stretched into years, she inevitably grew closer to Dean. Some will say that opposites flock together, and they are not wrong. Dean was the opposite of Y/n, stubborn, he didn't hesitate to say what was on his mind and loved seeing the adorable expression that invaded her face when he made inappropriate or worse, sexual comments. Immediately, Y/n would disappear from the room almost like magic, or she would become so embarrassed that he took pity and immediately changed the subject.

Y/n had a purity that Dean never had, and it was one of the reasons why even after all this time knowing her, he was still reluctant to let her come with them on hunts. Or even to involve her in anything that could endanger her or defile this purity. If he could keep her from losing that sparkle in her eyes, he would, no matter the cost.

After a few months of dating, Y/n finally agreed to live in the bunker with them. Dean helped her move in, putting her things in a room other than his, and although not sharing the same bed disappointed him a little, he understood why. She wasn't ready, and he insisted on her comfort. He was willing to wait for her as long as it took.

“If I had known you had that many boxes, I would have brought in extra hands,” Dean huffed, placing yet another heavy box on the ground. Straightening up, he raised his arms above his head to stretch his back.

“Sorry, all my books,” Y/n shrugged and lowered her head, embarrassed.

With a quick wave of his hand, Dean signaled that it was nothing. “It only takes a little longer but it’s no problem,” he quickly said to reassure her, so she wouldn’t feel bad about having so much stuff. After all this time knowing her, he knew how important her books were to her.

Her 500 books which weighed bricks to transport…

“I'll go get another box,” she accepted Dean's answer and as she passed him on her way out, left a quick kiss on the cheek. It was Dean's turn to react, his face quickly turning red.

“Okay, in the meantime, I'm going to start…” Glancing at the mountain of cardboard, Dean sighed again. “Cleaning a little…”

Sam wasn't there. Although he proposed his help for moving her stuff in, Dean's ego was more powerful. As a boyfriend, he had to take care of his girlfriend himself. Without help. Showing her that he was there for her, and that she would always be his priority.

Dean had been in several relationships in the past. And he loved each woman with all of his soul. But each time, his work, his family or the apocalypse had forced him to leave. It had been a very difficult task each time, but he had done it.

Just the thought of leaving Y/n had the same effect as losing a limb. It was unthinkable.

Ah shit. He was in love.

Him, in love?

It was the first time.

… Wait a minute.

He was in love with her.

This realization hit him harder than he expected. Dean took a few steps back, his head spinning quickly. He was in love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Never in his entire life had he felt this kind of thing for someone, feelings so strong, so true. When they were together, he felt so good, like he had finally found the thing he was missing. The person he needed.

Dean took another step back, and inevitably, his legs encountered a box. He lost his balance and, trying not to cause a landslide, had to hold himself against the nearest thing… Another box.

This one was strangely and unfortunately lighter than the others and failed to stop him from doing damage. Luckily, Dean kept his balance and avoided the embarrassment of falling on his butt, but the box fell to the ground.

“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled as he hurried to pick it up. As he took it, he noticed that it was not closed properly. It was definitely not his plan to go through Y/n's personal belongings, but when he opened the box to close it better, he couldn't help but see what was inside.

And it wasn't his fault. The first item on top was a box that displayed the inscription of its contents, and his curiosity, well… took care of the rest.

“What the…” taking the item in question, Dean examined it. His hunter's eye detected every detail, inscriptions, the wear on the cardboard and even the place where the packaging had once been sealed before opening. The sticky paper seemed to have been removed so quickly, the color of the cardboard remained stuck on it. It was exactly as if its owner, eager to have the object, hadn’t been concerned by the breakage of its packaging.

SO. It was still possible that the contents were not what was written in black and white on the packaging. It was still a possibility. Dean understood, it was his duty to get to the bottom of it once and for all. Otherwise, the question would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Heart racing for no good reason, Dean placed his fingers where the paper was torn off and pulled the tab. Then, breathless, he opened the box and peered inside.

“Son of a bitch,” his mouth breathed along with the last of his oxygen. No... he couldn't believe it. As if he needed further proof that his eyes had already given him, Dean reached into the box and pulled out the object.

It was still in its bag, but an opening proved its frequent use. Both soft and very hard, it was of regular size and of a pretty pink shade. Dean didn't need to take it out of the bag to know that underneath was the little hole to get charged, the wire still in the box.

In his hand, Dean held the thing he never thought he would hold… Let alone find among his girlfriend's stuff. The sweet, pure, shy Y/n.

Scared that she would come back and see him like this, Dean quickly put the pink dildo vibrator back in its box. A thousand questions swirled through his mind and his heart still hadn't stopped pounding in his ribcage. In his eagerness and nervousness, Dean almost dropped the box, so he had to pull himself together to put it back exactly where he had found it.

And that was when he saw them.

There were plenty of them. A dozen even. Some had their original packaging, others had boxes without inscription. Curiosity rose in Dean who forgot the presence of his girlfriend and owner of these toys in the bunker. It was like suddenly he was alone in the world as he began to pull out everything he had in front of his eyes, his pupils dilating with each new discovery.

Small portable vibrator. One that looked like a butterfly, insertable and vibrant. A… dolphin? A flesh-colored dildo, including ball and base with suction. A magic staff. Purple, pink, black, the colors were added one after the other. And then suddenly...

Dean came across the largest box.

It was curiously and surprisingly big for what was inside. Dean couldn't help it. It was heavy, there was no doubt about the contents, but he had to see it with his eyes, hold it in his hands, and absorb reality.

It couldn't be that big... right?

And oh my god.

“Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home…”

Examining it from every angle, he still couldn't understand. The words “bad dragon” were forever imprinted in his brain along with the image of that purple and blue hued dildo. It was imposing, as tall as it was wide, and the different textures were strange but pleasant to the touch. And inevitably, his brain went in that perverse direction he imagined...

Her moans filled the room and the echo was carried throughout the whole bunker. Sounds of pleasure? No. Of frustration. She moaned as she tried as best she could to get the dildo into her entrance, which was still too tight for such a monster. But her determination only grew with her goal, and the idea alone of being able to have all those inches inside her was so exciting that she almost didn't need any lube.

“Oh fuck,” breathed through her lips as the head of the toy finally pierced the breach. Her head tilting back, she wiggled on the dildo to widen her entrance to accommodate the rest. Kneeling over the toy made it easier for her to maneuver her body and part her lips for guidance. And when finally the dildo was inside her, a long sigh of relief mixed with the pleasure of having succeeded hissed between her lips.

“I love the view…”

Dean hadn't missed a single thing. Standing in the doorway, he watched, admired, and nourished himself with the magnificent view before him. Kneeling on the bed facing him, she knew he was there. Even though her eyes were closed, she felt his presence, heard his heavy breathing. And then there was the rustling of his clothes every time he adjusted his position or reached for his swollen crotch.

It was one of the hottest things she had ever experienced. The desire was so strong it was palpable. The smell of sex filled the room. A moan passed her lips as she opened her eyes to look at him, her breath leaving her lungs, making the air almost unbreathable because it was so saturated.

"Oh. No."

The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground brought him back to consciousness. Then it took him several seconds to realize the voice that had spoken just before the impact, what it had said and who it belonged to. Turning towards the door, Dean's eyes were wide open, the green almost disappearing from his irises because his pupils were so dilated.

Her face was not in any better condition. As her eyes, wide with fear and shame, moved between what he was holding and the box behind him and finally settling on him, Dean could see the embarrassment quickly filling her being.

“What is this?”

Still shocked by his discovery and what it implied, these words were the first and only ones that had managed to escape his lips. Obviously, he knew what it was, and what it was for. However, he needed to hear it from her mouth. To confirm what his eyes had already understood.

His question only made her more uncomfortable.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” she muttered under her breath, lowering her head and crossing the distance between them to grab the dildo and remove it from the hunter’s hands. All this to hide the evidence that had already been consumed, unfortunately. “Please, forget about it,” she pleaded, still refusing to meet his gaze. Her hand resting next to Dean's on the dildo, she tried to take it back, but was surprised to see that he didn't want to let it go. “Dean?”

“It’s impossible,” his voice was low, almost a breath lost in the tension of the air. “Unfortunately… I’m turned on by that. And here I thought you were all pure and shy…” Taking a pause in his words only made the state Y/n was in worse. Next to Dean, she felt his breath against her cheek, and the heat of his body. It was heavy, his chest moving in time with his harsh breathing. As if he had to do everything to hold back. “I waited for you to be ready, and I'll still wait but… Y/n…” As she still refused to raise her head and meet his gaze, Dean took his other hand, the one that wasn't holding the dildo, to gently lift Y/n’s chin. “Thinking about you touching yourself with that… oh fuck, it’s hot, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” A shy smile appeared on her lips, her eyes watering at how she was embarrassed but still... Very excited by this idea.

“Oh yeah,” Dean swallowed, his green eyes darting from Y/n's lips to her eyes, then back to her lips. Like two magnets held too far apart, but at the same time too close, it was inevitable.

Dean pressed his mouth to Y/n’s, kissing her forcefully. The dildo was quickly put aside, both needing their hands to touch the other. Dean placed his on Y/n's waist, and her around his neck. Her nails scratched the soft part of his neck, leaving red marks he would never see. It was intense, they almost devoured each other with an insatiable appetite. Opening her lips, Y/n stuck her tongue out barely, just enough to give access to Dean who was quick to push his tongue into her mouth. The kiss became languorous, messy, even, and Y/n backed into a box and almost fell. Dean broke the kiss to ask if she was okay, but she silenced him by replacing her lips on his to continue the kiss.

Their mouths didn't leave each other as clothes flew around the room, some getting stuck on boxes while others fell to the floor. Eventually, they managed to maneuver through the mountains of boxes to get to the bed. Y/n plopped down on the mattress and laughed against Dean’s mouth which only took a second to find its way back to hers. Now both were shirtless and their hands explored each other without stopping.

Finally, Y/n broke the kiss to speak.

“I want you to watch me.”

“What?” Dean was panting, his erection so painful in his pants he was afraid it would explode at the slightest touch. Like a hungry lion demanding its prey, he tried to grab Y/n's lips but she refused him access by placing her fingers between them.

“I want you to watch me use the toy…” If she was an angel a few moments ago, the Y/n he had, lying under him on the bed, half naked, was a little devil hidden under the appearance of a Saint.

Just the thought of seeing her in real life masturbating with the monster he had found made Dean gulp and push himself up so he was on his knees. His face was so red, he had trouble understanding how there could still be blood in his length.

“Are you sure? I mean, I… I can’t say no to that, fuck, but… I don’t want you to feel forced or…”

“Dean,” she interrupted, a smile tugging at her lips. “I really want to. And I know you want it too.” Y/n took a deep, slightly shaky breath before continuing. “So… Bring me the one you want me to use… And get comfortable.”

Dean swallowed and looked at his girlfriend's face. Since he had known her, they had never been this far in their intimacy. And he would never have imagined that she had this in her. Obviously he was surprised, but it was a very pleasant surprise. Like an excited child on Christmas morning, Dean rushed to the box of adult toys and once again admired all the choices presented to him. Each of them infused an image, each more erotic than the other, into his mind. For a moment, he hesitated to take the monster he had found shortly before, but decided that for now, this view was better in his mind. And he didn't want to embarrass Y/n even more than she was, what she was proposing was very intimate, very sexy, but also terribly hard to do. To open up like this, to show yourself like this...

Dean returned to his girlfriend, a box in hand. “This one,” he held out the box, knowing full well what it contained. Y/n took it, hesitated for a few seconds while staring at it in her hands. Just as Dean was about to repeat that she didn't have to, that they could continue to just makeout and that was okay, she opened the box and took out the toy.

It was a simple one. No vibration, just a flesh colored dildo with suction at the bottom. It wasn’t the biggest she owned, but it was still big, almost as big as Dean’s cock. So to see her use this, he could easily picture him in her…

Just the thought sent another wave of arousal down his pants.

“Do you need a moment, or lube or…” Dean was still standing up near the bed as she was on her knees on the mattress. For the first time, he was clueless and didn't know what to do. And yet, it was not his first time, nor the last, that he had more kinky moments with his partner. But Y/n was different, she wasn't just his sexual partner, but the woman he loved. And the prospect of getting even closer and more intimate was worth more than any sex he could have.

“I want you to watch the whole thing,” Y/n replied, lifting her ass off the mattress just enough to undo her pants and pull them down along with her panties with just one hand. In an almost expert manner, she finished undressing herself with one hand, her other never letting go of the toy. “You can sit down, you know,” she laughed when she saw Dean still standing where he was, stiff as a stick.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he sat on the edge of the bed and turned his body towards her. It was like he was back at 15 with the most popular girl in school, ready for his first time. Nervousness filled his entire being, along with excitement, and if he wasn't so experienced years later, his erection would have disappeared or he would have come prematurely in his pants.

Dean silently thanked all the girls he had in the past that strengthened his stamina.

“How do you want me to use it?”

Dean could see how nervous she was. It was the first time she was completely naked in front of him, and her body was shaking ever so slightly, shivers that covered her soft skin in goosebumps. But yet, through that nervousness, she was freaking sexy. Still kneeling, she was slowly stroking her intimacy with the toy, coating it with her wetness. And without asking, Dean knew she wouldn’t need any lube.

“Just… Like this, you can ride it…” The words got out of his mouth by automatism. Truth was, Dean was half there now, so excited and focused on her, a part of his mind was shut down. It was so hot, he couldn’t detach his eyes from her body, the way the toy rubbed through her lower lips, how her hips rocked back on it, and her face, so soft, so cute, so embarrassed… With eyes burning in a strong passion.

“Okay,” she whispered. Time seemed to slow down. Dean could feel his heart beating in his head and in his crotch, the intensity growing with each movement she made. Straightening up, she placed the dildo behind her, careful to align it with her entrance, and opened up her legs to let Dean continue watching.

And he could see it all.

It was better than everything he could ever imagine.

The toy was big, but she was probably very wet and very used to it, because it didn’t take long for her to lower down on it. Inch by inch, the dildo disappeared into her entrance until it was almost completely gone. Her body was bent back, her chest glistening with sweat and the cutest moan left her lips.

“Fuck,” Dean groaned. It was too much, so he rushed to open his pants, just enough to free his aching cock. The simple touch sent thousands of electrical shocks of pleasure through his body, but still, his eyes were fixed on her. “You’re so hot, I don’t think I’ll last long,” he held the base of his cock stronger to avoid his climax.

“I don’t think I’ll last long either,” she whimpered. She had started moving already, slowly, up and down on the toy. Since she was on the bed, the succion was useless and she had to hold it with one hand. Dean could see how wet she was on the dildo, and imagined how warm it had to be inside.

Another groan whistled through his teeth.

“Hmmm,” she moaned, picking up speed. “It feels so good… Dean… Look at me…”

He didn’t notice, but his gaze was so focused on the toy and her pussy, he didn’t even look at her face. Blinking hard, he looked up, and when he saw her face, twisted in pleasure, he couldn’t help it.

His hand started moving on his cock at the same rhythm as her.

“Can’t wait to be inside of you,” Dean muttered through his rashing breath. “Must feel so warm in there, and you’re so wet, fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

As an answer, she moaned and closed her eyes for a second. But quickly, she set her gaze on him again, even if it had to be the most embarrassing thing she ever did. She wanted to watch him watch her, watch him stroke his cock, watch him cum with her. “Soon… I promise, soon, you’ll have me, you’ll fuck me as much as you want, whenever you want… I'm ah... All yours, Dean..."

"Y/n." Dean could only say that. Again and again, moaning her name as she continued moving on the toy. "Y/n..."

"Dean, I’m gonna cum, oh my god, I’m…”

It was stronger than her. Never before did she come with only a dildo in her, it always took her hands or a vibrator on her clit to reach the end. But right now, in front of her boyfriend masturbating with her, it was too much. It felt so good.

In an explosion of pleasure, her orgasm ripped through her in a scream. She closed her eyes, her body shaking, her wetness flooding under her and on her bed. But she so didn’t care about this right now.

It took a few moments for her to regain her hearing back, and a few more moments to open her eyes. It was strong, and she suddenly felt so tired, like the world came crashing back on her. Feeling like she could sleep for a whole day without waking up.

Y/n landed her eyes on the man in front of her. Dean had his head bent back, eyes closed, mouth parted. Lower, his cock was still a bit hard, and his release was covering his hand.

“Oh,” she said sadly, realizing she didn’t see him cum. At least, they came together.

“Oh,” Dean repeated, finally opening his eyes to land them on her. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and done,” he admitted, a silly smile filling up his face. So he was too, drunk on pleasure.

“Yeah,” she admitted, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. Wow. They did it. They actually did it. Her joy, thought, left her face quickly as she realized something. “Fuck.”

“What is it?” Dean immediately went on protective boyfriend mode when he heard the change in her voice.

“I think I…” Y/n’s voice was small, so small and shy as she lifted herself from the spot she was in, removing carefully the dildo from her, and looked at the mess she made. “It never happened before, but now my bed… I don’t think I can use it anymore… Oh no…”

“Sweetheart,” Dean rushed to her side, quickly putting himself back in his pants even if he was messy with his release as well. “It’s alright. There’s plenty of other room in the bunker, with other beds.”

“But,” she stammered, her gaze looking down at her hands. “What if I want to… Use your bed, with you?”

Y/n ended up looking up at him, their gaze meeting.

A soft kiss on her lips answered her question, and all of her insecurities washed away.

“My bed is yours, sweetheart. We can always use this room for your books, I’ll ask Sam to help building shelves and-”

Another kiss, this time, more powerful, interrupted his sentence. “God, I love you so much.”

Babum.

The words he never said back before.

Dean thought they would be hard to say. Impossible, even. But he surprised himself with how easy it actually was.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

Supernatural Tag List: @peachyaliien @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl @this-is-me19

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278 @kazsrm67 @wtrpxrks @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies @charred-angelwings @jensendreamland @deanswaywardgirl @happyt0exist @waynes-multiverse @djs8891 @mimaria420 @this-is-me1 @syrma-sensei

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countingdots-tc · 3 months

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TEACHER/STUDENT BOOK RECS

*if you want me to add a forbidden romance list, let me know*

𓃠 This is a list with links to books that have teacher/student, age gap, and experienced/less experienced themes that I have read! These are in order from most recommended to least recommended based on my opinion.

𓃠 This will be updated as I read more! Think something should be added to the list, then let me know!

𓃠 To find the Age Gap/TeacherxStudent Movie list, click on the link on my pinned post!

⭐️= highly recommend/changed my life

😇= no smut

🌶️=contains smut

💦=read to really get your rocks off

highlighted=warning

PROFESSOR/COACH BOOK LIST

The Unrequited by Saffron A. Kent-⭐️😇

ProfessorxStudent & mental health themes

Cute little poet embarrassingly falls for her grumpy professor. Beautiful slow burn and perfectly describes what it feels like to want someone and not feel enough for them. She is such a realistic female lead and reminds me a lot of y’all 😂. This is THE teacher crush community book. If you don’t read anything read this!!

The Professor by Invi Wright-⭐️🌶️

ProfessorxStudent

Cute romance by young, new, and self published author. Very relatable female lead. If you enjoyed The Unrequited, you will like this book for all of the same reasons. Quick and easy read, only 240. She isn’t perfect, she clumsy, and I wouldn’t even say she’s socially awkward, she just a normal college student in her early 20s. She’s a fun narrator. This author has a lot of potential and her writing will only get better.

Gabriel’s Inferno by Slyvain Reynard-⭐️😇

ProfessorxStudent

Such a good dark academia book. Beautifully written and actually has a movie adaptation. I would definitely recommend this if you want a realistic couple but a bit more serious. Characters have so much depth

Off Balance Series by Lucia Franco- 💦

CoachxStudent

Warning: female lead is age of consent NOT legal age.

If you want something really forbidden and fucked up, read this. If you want the MOST insane sex scenes, read this (MINORS STOP). I really don’t even want to add this series to this list but for the girls who wanna go there, have fun. I started this when I was still in high school, read the 3rd one as an adult, it’s not as easy to read now. Take that info as you please

Lessons In Sin by Pam Goodwin-🌶️

TeacherxStudent with 18 Y.O female lead

Troubled rich girl gets sent off to a catholic boarding school and falls for the asshole Dean of the school. Smut is pretty good, plot works. I’m not going to say it’s bad, I think whether or not it’s enjoyable depends on the person. It wasn’t bad, I just wasn’t obsessed. If you’re just trying to live vicariously through her (aren’t we all), then it works!

Teach Me by L. L. Ash-🌶️

ProfessorxStudent

Really good start, and I do mean GREAT start… I just feel like the sex scene came too soon (Ch. 9/32) and it threw me off but I also like SUPER slow burns. It’s still a good book. I enjoyed the male love interest, Professor Harlo. They’re cute together. Grump and Sunshine.

Dark Notes by Pam Goodwin-

TeacherxStudent & themes of abuse

Probably DNF-ing

AGE GAP BOOK LIST

Something In The Way Series by Jessica Hawkins-⭐️😇

Sister’s Boyfriend/Husband & “I saw him first”

Most beautiful romance series I’ve ever read, best written books by Jessica Hawkins. I recommend all of her other books. Lake is 16 when she first meets Manning but nothing sexual happens between them for another 3 books until she’s in her 20s. Beautiful slow burn with characters full of depth.

Sinner by Sierra Simone- ⭐️💦

Brother’s Best Friend & religious themes

Amazing character creation and mapping. These characters feel real! This book is about “teaching” a girl about sex before she becomes a nun. It’s not just a bang bang, hump hump book. It has heart and it really good. If you enjoy religious themed romance, you may enjoy Priest by Sierra Simone too. I didn’t 💀

Birthday Girl by Penelope Douglas- 💦

Ex’s Dad

Most popular forbidden romance so whatever you’ve heard about it, dump it. This might be the most tame book on this list. Pacing is good, well written main character. Insane amounts of smut but it doesn’t drive the story forward so feel free to skip it if you get tired.

Love Unexpected by Q. B. Tyler- 💦

Ex Stepdad & parent death

This book is HOT! However after the first few scenes, I got a bit tired of the smut. Well written enough female lead with a rushed ending. However if you just need something to read and not despise it, it’s good enough.

Strictly Off Limits by Jessica Hawkins-🌶️

Dad’s Best Friend

Jessica is my favorite author so I’m a bit biased but she definitely isn’t a smut writer. This novella would’ve been better without smut however it isn’t super present and doesn’t really drive the story forward so don’t feel like you’re missing anything if you skip the smut!

The Doctor by Nikki Sloane- 💦

Ex’s Dad

personally didn’t care for this book, smut starts off way too quick and I’m more of a slow burn girl. It is a novella however, it was still too quick. However! You may love it <3

𓃠 If I’m not reading fast enough for you and you want to see what I will be reading in the future here is my Amazon TBR, have at it!

𓃠 If you want to see a more organized bookshelf of what I’ve read, here is my Goodreads!

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gilverrwrites · 4 months

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Against The Wall (/Bathroom Door)

Pairing: Dean Winchester/AFAB! Reader

Feminine pronouns used.

Plot: Dean and the reader are unable to keep their hands off each other during dinner. They sneak off together for a 'quickie' in the restroom.

Rating: M/18+

This is a re-written/edited fic I wrote and posted on a now deleted tumblr. If I recall correctly, it was originally a request for 'against the wall' sex.

Please remember: to be kind to yourself.

Content: Swearing, (really cheesy) flirting, established romantic/sexual relationship, nipple play, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, teasing, dirty talk, semi-public, clothed sex, size difference, biting, (non-sexual) peeing.

Excerpt: "Give me rough and ready any day.” “Ohhh, don’t worry Darlin’...” Dean smirked, the hand on your thigh slipped to cup you through your jeans as he almost closed the gap between you, his lips less than an inch away. “I intend to.”

“Why are we staying here? Why didn’t we check in to that place down the road?” You groaned. You couldn’t help but feel like a sore thumb, as you needlessly examined the well-dressed wait staff and their high society patrons. If the side eyes, and tight smiles they shot back at you were anything to go by, they also thought your table stood out.

Attempting to avert your gaze, you glanced over the menu and had to stifle a gasp. Tired and sore from the hunt, you’d collectively decided that it would be faster and easier to just dine at the hotel’s restaurant, but $37 for a burger, FRIES NOT INCLUDED! Daylight robbery! In hindsight, you wished you’d bothered to walk the extra 10 minutes to the nearest greasyspoon, just on principle. Besides, the motel down the road was next door to a pizza joint, double whammy. “It would have been a helluva lot cheaper.”

“Because it was full up. Besides, I thought you’d appreciate somewhere a little more sophisticated.” Dean replied. If the grin on his face, and the hand on your thigh was anything to go by, he didn’t really care where he was, he was just happy for the food and the company. And to be done with the ghouls you’d been hunting down all week. He winked at you as he leaned in and snatched the menu from you, and you giggled when his brows shot up. Likely also outraged at the price of a burger, WITHOUT FRIES.

“Deano, sophisticated; we, are, not.” You stated as matter-of-factly as you could, trying to ignore his hand as it inched higher and higher up your leg.

“Speak for yourself Sweetheart.” He quipped, locking his eyes with yours and wiggling his eyebrows, “I’ve always had a taste for the finer things in life.”

“HA.” You deadpanned, but he didn’t budge. You leaned in closer, lowering your voice to a purr. “Well, not me. Give me rough and ready any day.”

“Ohhh, don’t worry Darlin’...” Dean smirked, the hand on your thigh slipped to cup you through your jeans as he almost closed the gap between you, his lips less than an inch away. “I intend to.”

You would have leaned in to kiss him, had the sound of Sam clearing his throat, signifying his discomfort, not distracted you both. Embarrassed at having forgotten his presence you both leaned back in your chairs. Dean promptly placed both his hands on the table and shot Sam a very unserious thrown.

“Sorry, Sam.” You extended a brief apology and the three of you sat in awkward silence until someone came to take your drink orders.

“I’m going to the ladies’ room.” You announced shortly after the waiter had left. “10 bucks says this place has attendants.” You joked as you stand from the table and walk away.

“Wait up, I gotta take a leak too!” Dean declared. “If they come back for food, just order for his. No green shit.” He instructed his brother before wrapping an arm over your shoulder and following very, very close behind you. You really did need to pee, but if Dean had something else in mind, you wouldn’t object.

Together you manoeuvred your way through the labyrinth of busy tables and ‘atmospherically’ dim hallways until you found a vestibule of doors labelled ‘la toilettes’.

Dean held you at arms-length as he poked his head through one and looked around. From what you could see, it seemed to be a single occupancy bathroom. “Score!” Dean turned to face you as he backed the rest of his body into ‘la toilette’, pulling you in with him. “Plus, no attendant, you owe me 10 bucks.”

The moment you heard the lock click behind you he pounced, arms either side of you, fingers against your scalp, caging you between his firm chest and the door. Your lips crashed together; a shiver ran up your spine as he groaned into your mouth. It wasn’t a soft kiss, it was harsh, demanding, just how you liked it. You snaked your hand under his shirt and ghosted your fingers up until they rested on his chest, there you could feel his heart beating a mile a minute.

Briefly, you felt high on the effect you had on him. The moment abruptly ended when he snatched your waist, twisting you around, and pushing you face first against the cold wood.

In this new position, you could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against your ass, instinctively you reached an arm back to rub against him.

“F-fuck.” Dean spluttered, grinding into your open palm. “You’re so sexy.”

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You replied, “But can we get a move on please.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He rasped, before sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin of your shoulder. Strong hands begin roaming your body. One hand skirts along the curves of your upper body before gliding back up, beneath your shirt, under your bra and begins squeezing at your breast. His calloused fingers pinch at your sensitive nipple, rolling it between the tips of his fingers.

His bite softens, and his tongue flicks against the tender skin before he begins to ghost his lips over your neck, kissing, licking, sucking, marking. Meanwhile, his other hand deftly works on your belt, whipping it open in no time, he nabs the hem of your jeans and yanks down, forcing them down to your knees, underwear following soon after.

You sucked in a breath and arched your back against him when you felt a finger begin running against your slit. A second finger quickly joined, and you withered at the feel of his coarse digits splitting your lips open. The heel of his palm pressed against your clit, sending a shockwave through your body, two fingers gently prodded at your entrance, but he didn’t push in straight away.

Needlessly you rocked against his hand, hoping to garner some friction against your clit, trying to sink yourself onto his fingers, but you just couldn’t quite hit the right spot.

“Dean stop!” You whined. “I need you.”

“Need me?” He chuckled, his hot breath tickling the back of your neck. You knew he had a shit-eating grin on his face, and he was lucky you were too needy to care. “Need me to what?”

“Need you inside me.” You whispered back to him, cheeks ablaze. “Need you to fuck me.”

You felt your hole slowly spread open as his fingers inched in, stretching you around them, but no sooner had it started when he halted again.

“Dean, please!” You begged, and seemingly that was exactly what he needed to hear.

Within seconds his long fingers were buried inside you. Leaving no time to adjust he started pumping in and out, scissoring your insides, while the heel of his hand massaged your sweet spot, both actions sending an unbearable pressure through your body.

It wasn’t long before he slid in a third, and you were seeing stars, panting and rutting as a tight knot surged in your core, your climax was fast approaching, tittering on the edge when Dean abruptly pulled himself from you.

An exasperated cry leaves your lips as you attempt to reach for him, to pull him back but you’re barely able to brush your fingers against his arm. Accepting failure, you spin around to face him, ready to pout at him, to demand an explanation but before you open your mouth his hands are cupping your thighs. He lifts you off your feet, forcing your arched back against the door once again. With some shuffling he managed to bring your knees up, hooking your ankles over his shoulders, his face embedded in your concealed cleavage.

“Hold still.” He instructs, balancing your weight between one hand and the door, as he makes quick work of his belt, jeans, and boxers. You bite your lip, repressing any instinct to wither or jerk as his cock springs free.

“Ready?” He asks, his half-lidded, lusty green eyes gaze up at you as he positions himself at your entrance.

“Ready, and very, very eagerly waiting.” You confirm.

You suck in a breath as he enters you all at once, relaxing his grip on your body slightly so you sink down, taking every single inch of his shaft.

“Fuck.” He shudders against your body, his eyes rolling back already. His voice to low and guttural. “You feel so good. So fucking wet.”

Hands gripped tight against the wall for support, ankles firmly angled against his shoulders, you roll your body, grinding your pussy up and down his cock. His fingers dig tight into your thighs, surely leaving bruises as he savours the feeling.

“Fuck me, Dean.” You plead, rocking on his dick once more. “Need you to fuck me.”

“How could I say no to that.” He groans, adjusting his grip on you, slipping his hands up until they’re wrapped tight around the back of your knees. He slowly leans back, sliding his cock out until only the tip remains inside, before brutally slamming back in. It doesn’t take long for him to find his pace, slow, hard, and so fucking deep.

If he registers the creak of the old wood supporting your back, he clearly didn’t care. Neither of you had really made an effort to disguise what you were doing, why start now?

You were soon twitching at the feel of each thrust, murmuring his name. You didn’t expect to last long after he’d brought you so close once already, and you were right. He rebuilt that tension almost instantly, you felt dizzy, hot and wet. Barely able to feel anything but the throbbing, burning heat between your legs. With one last strangled moan, you tightened around him as you reached your climax.

Dean soon followed behind, the feel of your cunt tightening around his dick setting him off. His muscles clenched around your body, and his pace slowed as he released inside you, grunting with each spurt.

Flushed and panting you both remained in your positions as you came back down. Cum began to seep out of you as Dean softens.

“That was….” Dean pursed his lips as he searched for the right word. A smile spreads across his lips as he seemingly finds it. “That was, awesome.”

“That was awesome.” You reiterated as you began lowering your body. Dean's firm hands steadied your feet return to the floor. He reached down to pull your jeans up for you, but you stopped him, shooing his hands away.

“I really do need to pee!” You answered his puzzled look as you waddled over to the toilet.

“Right!” He laughed, as he pulled up his own trousers. “Plus, you should always pee after sex, right?”

You nodded affirmatively as you did your business. There was something weirdly intimate actually urinating in front of your boyfriend without shame. You really did have nothing to hide, he knew every gross detail.

“We should head back out there.” You said as you finished up. Readjusting your clothes and washing your hands. “Sam will probably think we fell in or something.”

“Nah, he may look it, but he's not that dumb.” Dean joked. “He better have ordered something good, I need more than rabbit food after that.”

“Agreed! Oh, and Dean?”

“Yeah, babe?” He answered as he drapes his arm over you.

You press your head into his shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes. “Round two after dinner?”

“If I ever say no to that, I want you to shoot me.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #dean winchester imagine #supernatural imagine #gilverrwrites

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 4 months

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Dean’s Girl

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: When you get in trouble, you know just where to turn.

Your big brother was more than just your big brother. He was your best friend, your confidant, the one who raised you, and the one constant in your life.

When your mom died, Dean was there. When Sam went to college, Dean was there. When dad disappeared, Dean was there.

But now, Dean wasn’t here, and you had no idea what to do.

You had just gone out to get some food, that was it! Dean and Sam had been hunting a vampire nest, and since you were out of food you were going to go steal some for the guys, knowing that when they got back they’d be hungry. The one time you tried to be useful, and you just ended up getting caught.

The worst part was that you hadn’t been caught right away. Nope, you’d run all the way to your hotel, and you’d hoped that you could get into your room before the cop saw which way you turned, but it didn’t work out like that. Instead, the officer caught you with one foot in the door, which meant that he saw the wall covered in pictures and clippings of the victims of the vampires your brothers were hunting.

That predicament led to this one; you sitting in an interrogation room, your hands handcuffed to the table. You tried to imagine how Dean would be in this situation; would he be sarcastic and ornery, or would he be stoic and silent?

Not that it mattered what he would do; it was all you could do to keep from going into a panic attack, you definitely couldn’t pass for sassy or stoic at the moment.

“You’ve got a lot to explain, kid.” That was the first thing the officer said to you after he stepped into the room. “Look, we know you didn’t kill those people. But we also know that you checked in with a couple of men, right? Well we can get you off the stealing charges if you tell us what they did.”

“I want my phone call.” You didn’t even acknowledge the man’s words; the only thing you’d been able to think about since the second you got caught was ‘I need Dean.’

“Well maybe if you gave me some information I could arrange that for you.”

“I want my phone call.”

“I understand that.” The officer’s voice rose in agitation. “But I need you to tell me what those men did.”

You again ignored his words. You didn’t—couldn’t—think of anything but your big brother right now.

“I want my phone call.”

…

“Y/N? Gosh, kid, we’ve been calling you! Where—“

“De-Dean I’m so sorry,” you whimpered. “I-I didn’t mean to, I just—“

“Hey hey, slow down.” Dean’s voice lowered, trying to ease your panic. “It’s alright, we’re almost at the motel. Now—“

“No, no! Dean, don’t go back to the motel.”

“Why not? Baby, you’ve gotta tell me what’s going on.”

“I got—I got arrested,” you mumbled, blinking back tears.

“You what?! Y/N, what happened?”

“You can’t go back to the motel! They-they saw all the pictures, they’re waiting there!”

“Ok, ok baby we’re not, calm down. Me and Sammy are gonna figure it out, ok? We’ll come and get you. We might need a diversion, can you do that?”

“I-I…” your voice quavered when an officer returned to the room, tapping his watch.

“Y/N, listen! I need you to pull yourself together, ok? Can you do this?”

“I-I can,” you breathed. “De, I’m—I’m scared.”

“I know baby,” Dean sighed. “We’re coming to get you, ok?”

“Time’s up,” the officer interrupted.

“I gotta go,” you said shakily into the phone.

“Ok, that’s ok,” Dean soothed. “I’m gonna see you in just a little while, ok?”

Before you could say anything, the officer took the phone from your grasp and hung it up.

…

When it was clear that you wouldn’t speak without a lawyer or guardian present, one of the nicer officers suggested that you could wait in his office where it was more comfortable. Even so, you were so wound up that when a branch hit the window you just about jumped out of your skin.

“Things would go so much easier for everyone if you just told us about the guys you were traveling with,” the officer said. You didn’t respond.

Bang! Scrape! The branch continued to hit the window.

“You’re just a kid. You probably won’t even serve jail time if you just tell us what those guys did.”

Scrape…bang…bang.

You sat up straighter in your seat as you began to listen more intently to the sounds the branch was making.

D…

Bang! Bang! Bang!

You knew it! Morse code!

E…

Bang! Scrape!

A…

Scrape, Bang!

Dean. He was here!

You tried not to let your emotions show on your face as fear once again clenched in your gut. If Dean was giving you this signal, that meant it was time for your diversion. You had to get this guy out of the room.

“I need another officer,” you said suddenly. The man’s eyebrows rose in surprise; he hadn’t expected you to speak.

“Another?”

“A woman,” you clarified. “I…I have a problem. If-if you get me a women officer, and she helps me with my…problem…” you made sure to make your pauses as awkward as possible so that the guy would get the message. “Then I’ll talk.”

“Oh!” That got the guy’s attention, whether because he wanted you to talk or because he was uncomfortable, you didn’t know. Either way it worked, and he disappeared out the door, closing it behind him.

As soon as he was gone, you jumped up on the chair you’d been sitting on and pulled open the window.

“Hey baby,” Dean‘s voice came from outside. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” you muttered nervously. “I-I don’t know if I can get out the window, the chair isn’t high enough.” The chair was just high enough for you to grab onto the window sill, but you weren’t strong enough to pull yourself up.

“That’s ok, I’m coming to get you.”

You looked up, trying to catch a glimpse of Dean through the window. He was climbing a tree just outside the window, and you jumped back in surprise when he leaped from the tree branch to the window. He pulled himself in easily, and dropped to the floor without making a sound.

You knew you were on a time-sensitive mission, but you couldn’t help yourself. As soon as Dean was in reach, you threw yourself into his arms. He staggered back slightly, lifting his hands to steady you by your shoulders.

“Ok, you’re ok kid,” he promised. “C’mon, we gotta get out of here.”

With Dean’s boost, you managed to climb through the window, but once you were through you became dizzy looking at the ground so far below.

“Kid come on, we gotta go!” Dean insisted.

“It-it’s too high,” you whimpered.

“No it’s not. Just lower yourself down by your arms and drop, it’s not too far I promise.”

You took a deep breath. If Dean said it was safe, then it had to be safe. It had to be. You put your palms on the windowsill, gripping it tightly as you slowly lowered yourself down. You were still a long way from the ground, but you could already hear Dean climbing up onto the chair. You couldn’t let him down, not after he did all this to save you from your own mess.

You closed your eyes tightly, took a deep breath…and dropped.

The second your feet hit the ground, you rolled in the grass, lessening the impact of the fall. Dean was right; you were ok.

Speaking of Dean, he followed right behind you, shooting you a grin as soon as he was on the ground next to you.

“See? That was easy. Now let’s get going.”

You were in the Impala and on the road before anyone had any idea you were gone.

To your surprise, Sam was sleeping soundly in the passenger’s seat. When Dean saw Sam was sleeping, he spoke up.

“Alright, let’s talk. What happened, kid?”

You lowered your gaze to your lap as you struggled to speak, the adrenaline of your capture and escape still making your heart pound.

“I just wanted to get some food.”

“Why didn’t you just wait?” Dean demanded, still annoyed.

“I wanted to help.” You mumbled.

“Ok,” Dean sighed, relenting. “But you can’t just do that, ok? We had no idea what happened to you.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was thick as you blinked rapidly.

“Ok, ok.”

You looked up in surprise when Dean pulled the Impala over.

“What—“

Dean stepped out of the car and pulled open your door.

“Come here.”

You stepped hesitantly out of the car, your legs shaking.

“Am I in trouble?”

“Baby,” Dean sighed, shaking his head as he pulled you into his arms.

You didn’t know where this sudden affection came from, but you decided to run with it.

“I’m really sorry,” you said, your tears suddenly spilling over. “I-I didn’t mean to make it all harder. I just—I just thought I could help.”

“I know you did,” Dean sighed. “But next time you gotta tell us, ok?”

“It was just a stupid supply run, and I couldn’t even do that right!”

“Ok, ok,” Dean cradled your head with his hand, pulling you against his chest as you cried harder. “It’s alright. We all screw up, ok? It’s not important. You’ll do better next time, right?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I will, I promise.”

Dean smiled as you pulled away.

“That’s my girl.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy

@mrvlxgrl

#dean winchester #dean and sam #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #the winchesters #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #winchesters x sister #dean winchester x little sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader

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quietwingsinthesky · 6 months

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guys. guys we’re all here for transfem sam because we love trans people and want to explore her experience with gender in new and interesting ways and NOT because we think sam as he is is inherently toxic and boring and her “bad” traits would go away if she was a trans woman right?? right????

#sorry was exposed to a tag where someone was saying that sam as he is is disgusting and could only be fixed by making him a girl.#but also that he didn’t deserve that and should rot instead. which. 😟#just! just a weird thing to say! i think!#also ‘bad’ in quotation marks obviously because like. the bad trait in question here was ‘made fun of dean that one time’ :/ im sorry are #we saying that sam wouldn’t drag dean’s ass as his sister too? are we saying that transfem!sam would just. not ever tease her brother or be #confrontational or be anything except passively accepting of everything that happens around her while never expressing discomfort?#because that’s. that’s weird. that’s a weird thing to imply about a character you want to headcanon as transfem.

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spnexploration · 3 months

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Comments

Happy birthday Dean Winchester! Here's a quick one-shot I whipped up to celebrate.

This also fulfils the 'Plus Size' square of my @spnaubingo 2023 bingo card, even though it's 2024... I'm late, I know, but I still want to do some more of it!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus sized!reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: Couple of crap comments from a random, some not-great self-esteem and a drunk character, but nothing particularly bad.

Synopsis: A man you're interviewing makes some crap comments about your body, and Dean doesn't help. Can he make it up to you?

Supernatural writing masterlist

“Which one’s the father?” The sleazy guy joked. My stomach dropped.

“Excuse me?!”

“Oh, it’s alright love, I know the real father’s probably suffering somewhere alone while you’re off gallivanting with your workmates. I’m surprised he lets you out, really.”

The urge to punch the witness we were interviewing was overwhelming. Rather than ruin the case, I turned on my heel and marched out.

Fuck that guy. I’m not pregnant and I’m not screwing either of the Winchesters.

I heard Dean’s FBI agent tone of voice as he started speaking behind me. Great to see they were all just moving on with their lives, I thought sarcastically.

---

📱 Where are you? We’re going to the next witness’s house

A text came in from Dean. I read it but didn’t reply.

📱 You ok?

I sighed. Finally, he asks.

📱 Fine. I’ll catch up with you later

I replied. He sent me a thumbs up, I rolled my eyes.

I kicked at the ground and started the walk back into town. Sam and Dean would probably try and make me feel better, but I knew that wasn’t happening. I looked down at my soft, flabby belly that I’d tried multiple times to lose.

I walked.

---

I felt a bit absurd, getting tipsy this early. It wasn’t that I felt like I had to drink to get over the comment. It was just that I’d gotten back to the motel room and was feeling a bit morose, and there was nothing to do. I’d tapped out of the case and I was bored. I went for another wander and this stupid town had nothing in it but a pub, and so somehow I’d ended up here, starting drinking a lot earlier than normal.

And now I looked like I was drinking my feelings, when I wasn’t.

Not that there was anyone looking at me anyway.

Well, except in disgust. Who knew how many more people in here thought I was pregnant too. Probably thought I was harming an unborn baby, right now.

Fuck them.

---

“You know there’s still a monster on the loose?” Dean said gruffly, a frown on his face. I guess it’d been easy to find me given how few things there were in this town.

“You struggling without me?” I didn’t think I was slurring too much, but his expression did not improve when I started talking.

“How you going to fight one off like this?” he gestured to me.

“You think a few drinks are why I’m fat?” I said sarcastically.

“I’m not calling you fat, I’m calling you drunk.”

“Right,” I said with an eyeroll.

“Come on, get in the car,” he said, trying to tug my arm.

“Fuck off Dean! I can drink if I want to. There’s nothing else to do in this shithole, anyway.”

He dropped my arm and stomped off to the bar.

I turned back to my drink. Sam came and sat opposite me. You can’t escape the bloody Winchesters.

“Hey, you ok?” he asked with his puppy dog eyes.

“I’m fine. I had a free afternoon, I came to get a drink. Is that fucking crime now?”

“I meant about what happened with the guy. You seemed pretty upset.”

“Surprised you could see that, you were both so busy being silent.”

“Didn’t you hear Dean?”

“How could I hear Dean when he wasn’t saying anything?”

“No, he laid right into the guy.”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I heard Dean get right back into his FBI voice as I walked off.”

“Yeah, he was still in character at first, told the guy that he needed to speak respectfully to Agents. And then when the guy was still a douche he got a bit more Dean and threatened to punch his lights out if he didn’t shut up about you.”

I laughed into my drink. I was sure Sam was embellishing, there was just no way Dean would care that much about someone being mean to me.

Speak of the devil, Dean appeared again, tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He put the water in front of me.

“Thanks, but I don’t accept drinks from strangers,” I said sarcastically.

“I’m not having you hung over tomorrow and being a liability to the case, drink the water.”

“I don’t remember electing you.”

“Jesus, you’re even more belligerent when drunk. Just drink the water and stop moping.”

“I’m not moping!”

“The guy was an asshole, no one thinks you look pregnant. But you can’t just drink yourself blotto and get yourself killed every time someone says something mean to you.”

I stood up, grabbed the glass of water and upended it all over Dean’s face. Then I marched out the door.

The effect was a little ruined by my drunken stagger, though.

---

Sam caught my arm as I got outside. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“I walked myself here, I can walk myself home!”

“I’m pretty sure you were walking in a straight line when you got here though. Come on.”

I let him tug me to the Impala. He must’ve grabbed the keys off Dean before chasing after me.

“He’s just worried about you,” he said gently as we were exiting the carpark. “Doesn’t want you getting hurt.”

“That does not give him a free pass to behave like that.”

---

Dean stood over me, a glass of water and a couple of painkillers in his hands. “Morning, sunshine. Need some relief?”

I gratefully reached out. Man, I did not normally drink that much.

“What time is it?”

“Time to work the case.”

I groaned, “Can’t you do it without me?”

“No, come on, back on the horse.”

“It’s not the horse that’s the problem, it’s the dog that bit me.”

“I did tell you to drink water,” he said smugly.

“Fuck off!” I threw my pillow at him. He easily deflected but wisely left me alone after that.

I groaned and got off the couch I’d been sleeping on, slumping to the bathroom. The boys were sitting around the tiny table, already dressed and looking at their laptops.

Sam was gone when I came out, freshly showered, dressed and feeling slightly more human. I looked at Dean with a clear question on my face.

“He’s gone for coffee, thought you could use some.”

“Thanks.”

“I, uh,” Dean continued, more hesitantly, “I owe you an apology.”

I crossed my arms across my chest. An apology from Dean was a rare thing, but I was wary it was going to end up being a backhanded insult instead. I often felt like I needed to protect my heart from being hurt by him.

“I was worried about you getting hurt when I saw you were drunk. But I just tried to solve the problem, I didn’t actually talk to you, and I,” he paused, biting his lip, “I shouldn’t do that.”

“Nice to see I’m just a problem,” I replied sarcastically. I wasn’t sure why he was riling me so much, but I still felt so hurt and angry.

He stood up and came over to me. “You’re not a problem,” he said quietly, trying to look into my eyes. I ducked my head away from the intensity of his look. “And I am sorry that asshat upset you.”

“I didn’t get drunk just because some guy called me pregnant, you know.” I could hear how defensive I sounded, despite my best efforts not to.

“It’s a shitty thing he did anyway. You’re beautiful.”

I laughed mirthlessly.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly. “Don’t put yourself down all the time.”

“Dean, your idea of beautiful is tall, thin, busty and great hair.”

“That’s not true.”

“Well, they’re all thin at least.”

“Who are ‘they’?”

“The women you sleep with, the women you hit on.”

“I can think of many women I’ve hit on who aren’t ‘thin’, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Suuuure,” I said with an eye roll.

“But I haven’t hit on many women lately, been distracted by one in particular.”

“Let me guess, beautiful?”

“Absolutely.”

“My point exactly. It’s ok Dean, you don’t have to ma-” Dean’s fingers found my chin, nudging it up so I would like at him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t made you feel it.”

I stared at him, mouth agape. Absolutely stunned into silence.

“And I’m sorry again that I was a bit of a dick yesterday.”

His face came even closer, watching my reactions.

“You’re my weak spot,” he whispered.

“No, I’m not.” I put my hands on his chest, “Dean, this isn’t funny, don’t tease me.”

He dropped his hand from my chin, looking hesitant. “Sweetheart, I’m putting my heart on the line here, I’m not teasing.”

My hands slackened.

He edged a tiny bit forward.

His tongue darted out and back in. I couldn’t stop staring at his lips.

Was this even real?

How was this happening?

His hand came up to cup my cheek.

I leant forward.

The world suddenly sped up again. Dean moved in, closing the gap between us and bringing his lips to mine. I lost myself in the tenderness of his touch, the softness of his lips, the exploration of his tongue and mine.

A sudden noise made us pull apart. Sam was standing in the doorway, cardboard holder with coffees in one hand and the other on his hip.

“I’m happy for you guys and all, but we still have a case to work. You can pick this up later.”

Dean Winchester taglist

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@lyarr24

@waynes-multiverse

@deans-spinster-witch

@zepskies

Everything Supernatural taglist

@leigh70

@malindacath

@ellie-andthemachine

@iprobablyshipit91

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@kazsrm67

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#my writing #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus size reader #dean winchester x plus size!reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester birthday #happy birthday dean #deansbirthdaybash #plus size reader #chubby reader #dean winchester x chubby reader #dean x reader #dean x plus size reader #spnaubingo #drunk character #mistaken for pregnant #i write terrible synopses #but it's better than it sounds

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femmedefandom · 7 months

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I think the stupidest thing about the whole bracelet debacle in 2x15 is the fact that Jess doesn’t know. He has no idea that the bracelet Rory wore was a gift from Dean and that apparently being his girlfriend means she is contractually obligated to wear it at all times to prevent a meltdown of epic proportions. All he knew was it was her bracelet and it was left right beside him after their friendly lunch/quasi first date…and that she never brought up the fact that is was gone after meeting with him. Jess wasn’t some master plotter or anything in this situation, he didn’t expect to start a fight with Dean or to upset Rory at all. In fact, the moment he finds out about the bracelet, he makes sure the house is empty and puts it right back in Rory’s room. And then Lorelai in all her infinite biased wisdom assumed that he…stole it off her daughter’s wrist without Rory noticing? Snuck in at night and robbed her jewelry box? What did she think happened exactly? And then Jess, who has had maybe 30 minutes tops to process the bracelet and all it’s connotations, hits back with the hardest truth of all. The one that Rory and Lorelai seemed determined not to think too deeply about: if it’s the most precious thing she owns, why did it take Rory two weeks to even notice it being gone?

I love that he says that, partly because I can’t always keep track of time skips in the show but also because it meant that Rory didn’t take it off for two weeks, didn’t put it on in the morning to go to school, didn’t fidget with it while she was distracted, didn’t have it bend a paper or get mashed potatoes on it, didn’t have it roll under her sleeve….she cared so little about this “symbol of Dean” that she was perfectly happy until he blew up about it being gone.

#rory gilmore #gilmore girls #lorelai gilmore #jess mariano #lorelai’s unreasonable hatred of jess #anti dean forester #gilmore girls 2x15

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zepskies · 7 months

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Smoke Eater - Part 3

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: Ready for some more ridiculous flirting? lol

🔥 Series Masterlist

Song Inspo: “Got a Hold on Me” by Christine McVie (of Fleetwood Mac) Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: Mutual pining, fluff, first encounters and first dates

Part 3: “Got a Hold on Me”

Your gaze drew a path onwards, eventually reaching the other end of the bar.

There you caught sight of red flannel over a black undershirt, familiar broad shoulders, and an even more familiar face. Your eyes widened a fraction as his met yours, gleaming with recognition…and interest.

That slow smile of his was familiar too. It made a lance of heat run down your spine. You gripped the counter, mostly to steady yourself as you let out a breath.

Lieutenant Winchester.

You couldn’t help but smile back as you met the man’s gaze across the bar.

You recognized his bearded friend, Benny, who leaned over and said something to Dean. You couldn’t hear him, of course, but maybe he was asking a question. Because Dean nodded and said something in reply before he picked up his glass of what looked like whiskey. And he smoothly got up out of his seat.

Anticipation and nerves coiled together in your lower belly. You turned to your friend, who was already sipping at her vodka cranberry.

“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.

Andréa discreetly followed the path of your gaze, and her brows raised. A smirk curved her lips.

“Oh, babe. You need to help yourself,” she replied.

“I haven’t done that in a while,” you admitted. Your dating life had been sorely lacking, between the demands of your job and taking care of things at home. “I’m gonna say something demented.”

Andréa huffed in amusement.

“So? That’s half the fun,” she said. A smile curved her lips. “I think I’m going to go play some pool.”

And with that, your friend abandoned you. She slid off her seat and patted your ass on her way over to one of the pool tables. You watched her go with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

“There you go, hun,” said Jo. She slid your drink in front of you. It came in a deep round glass on a stem, with a straw on the side.

“Thanks,” you replied.

You opened the straw and took a small sip to steady yourself, as you saw Dean coming out of the corner of your eye.

You even pretended not to notice the handsome man sliding into the seat next to you. His elbows rested on the counter next to yours, and you finally glanced over at him.

“Can I help you, sir?” you asked. A coquettish smile played at your lips, but you even surprised yourself with your smooth delivery. Inside, you had butterflies.

You didn’t notice the way Jo’s gaze lingered on you and Dean, a frown marring her features. Though she soon moved on to another patron.

And Dean’s attention was solely on you. He gave you a handsome smile, full of charm. You gave him expectant brows.

“Well, we’ll see. I’ve got a question for you,” he said.

You indulged him with a nod. “Okay. What’s your question, Lieutenant?”

“Why Girl Scout cookies?” he asked, speaking of the baked goods you’d brought by the firehouse yesterday. “I mean, we’ve gotten cakes, muffins, Krispy Kreme donuts. But I gotta say, we’ve never gotten some bakery-style Trefoils.”

Your smile brightened a bit.

“Who doesn’t like ‘em?” you asked. “I mean, you can walk by their table and be all coy and pretend you’re not going to buy anything, but then you walk away with half a dozen boxes of Thin Mints.”

Dean chuckled, and you enjoyed the way it crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Or is that just me?” you added, and once again sipped at your drink.

Meanwhile, Andréa felt a hot gaze on her as she set up the cue balls on the pool table. She allowed it with a subtle smile. If it was the same one she’d crossed paths with earlier when she walked in with you, then she didn’t mind.

She was, however, getting impatient.

“Mind if I join you?”

The pleasant drawl of the man’s voice licked up her spine. When she glanced over her shoulder, her smile widened a fraction. Finally.

“For a game?” she asked. She straightened, brushing a smooth wave of dark hair off her shoulder.

And she turned to meet the bearded man standing casually behind her, resting his glass on the edge of the pool table. The gray of his rolled up, buttoned-down shirt brought out the vivid blue of his eyes. But even though he was tall and broad, he didn’t seem intimidating.

“To start with,” he said. His lips quirked at a smile. “But first, I think it’d be a damn shame if I didn’t ask for your name.”

Andréa’s head tipped to one side as she considered him. She picked up the second pool stick and handed it to him.

“Are you going to ask?” she replied. Her fingers curled around her own stick as she leaned a hip against the table.

It made him smile. Those eyes of his considered her dress, an earthy green that brought out the hazel in her eyes, warm against her tan skin. But he lingered on her face, full lips and long, dark lashes.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” he asked.

“Andréa,” she answered, and gestured to the pyramid of cue balls. “I’ll even let you go first, if I get your name.”

His smile deepened, and he leaned over beside her to line up his shot. He glanced over and found the challenge in her eyes was more than welcome.

“I’m Benny,” he said. He took the shot without looking at his target, breaking the pyramid and scattering cue balls across the table.

Back at the bar, your drink and your conversation were both bringing a pleasant buzz to your brain. You nodded along with the music when “Got a Hold on Me” by Christine McVie replaced Boston.

“You’re liftin’ me up,” she sang through the speakers. “Never let me down…and I smile whenever you’re around.”

Dean glanced at you with a small grin, shaking his head.

You couldn’t help but smile back. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he said. “I just didn’t expect to see someone like you here.”

Your brows furrowed. “Someone like me?”

He caught the look on your face, and his turned apologetic.

“Nah, I just mean…this doesn’t seem like your usual vibe,” he said.

You weren’t quite sure how to take that, but you eventually shrugged.

“To be honest, I don’t go out all that much,” you replied. “I like it here though. Good music, good drinks—”

“And good company, I hope,” Dean added in. You allowed that with a smile.

All the while, Christine kept singing.

“I’ve been down. I’ve been used. Now I know, I know, I know, I just can’t lose…”

“So did you guys like the cookies? Or did the Girl Scout thing put you off,” you teased. Dean’s lips quirked.

“Sweetheart, those delectables were gone by end of shift. I’m talking that afternoon. They were easily some of the best cookies I’ve ever tasted…I’m serious,” he said, when you became a bit bashful, and maybe disbelieving.

“I’m tellin’ you, if you had your own bakery, I’d be lining up every damn day,” he said. He then sent you a playfully suspicious look. “Matter of fact, you didn’t just buy those, did you?”

Your smiled warmed as you considered your half-empty glass. Your fingers traced the rim.

“Well, don’t laugh but…I actually went to culinary school,” you said. Dean’s brows rose high at the confession.

“Why would I laugh about that? That’s awesome!” he said. “Why didn’t you become a chef or something?”

Your gaze drifted downwards. “Well…let’s just say, life got in the way.”

His face dimmed a little at that. But you noticed, and you tried to perk up.

“So yes, sir. I baked all five dozen of those cookies with my own two hands,” you said more cheerfully. You raised waving fingers. “I’ve got the burns to prove it.”

You’d actually made a rookie move, trying to move one of the trays before it had sufficiently cooled down. It was bad enough that you had to apply some aloe last night.

Dean made a show of furrowing his brows, with playful concern.

“Let me see,” he said. He straightened in his seat, acting more “Lieutenant Winchester” as he took your hands and examined your palms and fingers. You blushed, and you bit your lip against a smile as his larger hands handled yours with care.

He did notice the redness on your fingertips, and part of your right palm. He glanced up at you.

“Do they hurt?” he asked.

You blinked at the genuine note in his question.

“Oh, not really,” you said. But you smiled at the fractional raise of his brows. “Well, maybe they still sting a bit, but it’s nothing. I had worse in school, believe me.”

Dean hummed as he considered your hands. Your face heated up further as you tried to get a read on what he was thinking. Was he about to do the cheesy thing and kiss it better? (Though you probably wouldn’t mind, even if he did.)

Instead, Dean reached into his own glass and grabbed an ice cube. After shaking off some excess water droplets, he moved the ice against the pads of your fingers, then down the fading red mark on your palm.

“That feel better?” he asked.

If possible, your blush intensified as your insides warmed and melted like hot butter. It was a sweet, and seemingly earnest gesture that plucked at your heartstrings.

And that was how Dean Winchester got your number before “Got a Hold on Me” ended.

Andréa was still chatting away at the bar with Benny by the time you decided to call it a night. She understood why you wanted to get home, to check on your grandfather.

You saw a bit of disappointment in Dean’s eyes when you said you needed to go, but he graciously offered to walk you to your car. It was pretty late, after all, and you had more than one reason to agree as he stepped out with you into the night.

You didn’t know if it was the evening chill, or his presence burning beside you that made a small shiver run through you. But once the two of you reached your car, you hesitated and looked up at Dean. You realized that you were reluctant to end this, whatever it was.

He quirked a smile down at you and tucked a wily strand of hair behind your ear.

“It was good to see you,” he said.

“Likewise, Lieutenant,” you replied, with a teasing gleam in your eyes. His were drawn to your face, lowering to your lips.

“Can I see you again?” he asked.

Again, your face warmed. “I think I’d be okay with that.”

His smile grew with his huff of amusement.

“Okay, how about I pick you up tomorrow night?” he offered. “That’s, uh…if you don’t got any plans.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest. Play it cool, for the love of God. Just say yes.

You didn’t usually agree to let a man pick you up on the first date, but something about Dean felt intrinsically trustworthy. Maybe it was the fact that he’d already saved you once this week.

“Sure,” you agreed, sounding more casual than you felt. “What did you have in mind?”

Dean considered that with a thoughtful look.

“Tell you what, let me take you to dinner. Somewhere nice,” he said. His hand raised to thumb at your warm cheek. He couldn’t see your blush, but you were sure he could feel it.

“I like dinner,” you admitted. Though you immediately wanted to slap yourself. Idiot!

Dean just laughed, and your blush turned to one of embarrassment.

“All right. Something we can agree on,” he said in amusement. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Get home safe, okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, though you paused, looking up at the indecision on his face. His gaze roamed your face, once again falling to your lips. Nervousness trilled down your spine, though you didn’t know why.

Maybe you were just a coward, but you didn’t wait for him to decide. You just gave him one last smile before you turned from him, unlocking your car with a press of a button on your keys.

“Well, goodnight,” you told him. “See you tomorrow.”

He nodded, stepping back from you. “See you soon.”

Well, it was tomorrow. And you were trying not to freak the hell out.

“That’s it,” Andréa said. “That’s the one.”

You had her on FaceTime, with your phone propped up on your dresser as you raided your closet.

Your hair was pinned up, your makeup done, and now, she’d helped you find the right outfit—a dress in vibrant emerald green that hugged your curves and fell to about mid-thigh. You smoothed out the straps and twisted to see yourself in the mirror.

“Why’re you frowning. This is perfect!” Andréa said.

“I just…” You sighed, once again trying to tug up the neckline. It was a bit lower than you preferred, but if you remembered right, your friend had encouraged this purchase a while back.

“It isn’t too much, is it?” you asked.

“Not for a first date with a smokin’ hot firefighter, mind the pun,” Andréa teased. “You’re a knockout, babe. He won’t be able to pick up his tongue off the floor…but I’m sure you can find a place for him to put it.”

You spluttered laughing, even after you made a scandalized sound. “You’re ridiculous.”

Still, you knew you could always count on Andréa to hype you up. You appreciated that about her; she was confident without being petty or prideful. And while she never begrudged you for your more cautious approach to things, she did try to get you out of your comfortable shell when you needed it. This, apparently, was one of those times.

You chose a pair of black suede heels Dean hadn’t seen before, along with a few spritzes of perfume in strategic locations on your body.

“Okay, Dean’s supposed to get here at 8:00. Until then, regale me with more about your night with Captain Benjamin Lafitte,” you said, drawing out each word of the man’s name with a suggestive flourish.

Andréa gave a dreamy sigh. She smiled as she sat back against her headboard in bed.

“He was just so…” she trailed, like she was sorting through a collection of memories, savoring each one, all while trying to find a way to distill it all into a simple sentence. She had an artist’s mind, and so tended to romanticize. But you enjoyed the way she spun her stories.

“Earthy, and real, while still being charming,” she said. “I’m pretty sure he let me win the pool game. Which ordinarily would annoy the shit out of me, but when he offered to buy me another drink, I couldn’t say no, and…we talked until the bar closed.”

“Wow.” Your eyes widened as you made the finishing touches on your clipped up hair.

“Right? I’ve never had an experience like that with a perfect stranger,” she said. “I think…I think it was like, one of those connections you hear about, see on TV but never think it happens in real life. I’ll tell you, when we walked into the bar, his eyes were the first thing I saw. And they were the last thing I remember from that night, after he kissed me goodnight…well, more like made out against my car, but you get the idea.”

She smiled as her face became lost in thought. Meanwhile, you tried not to be envious that she’d had more courage than you.

“Are you going to see him again soon?” you asked. Andréa seemed to come back down to Earth at the question, meeting your gaze.

“I think so,” she said. “We’re trying to plan something for next week. He’s also a construction contractor.”

You nodded. “Yeah, Dean was telling me that a lot of them have part-time jobs when they’re not on shift.”

“Does he do anything on the side?” she asked.

“If I remember right, he said he fixes cars sometimes, but I’m not sure if he’s a certified mechanic,” you replied.

“Well, maybe he can spruce up your old-ass Toyota Camry. How long have you had that thing?” she asked.

You scoffed. “Since college. And it was old then, since I got it used…I think I’ve racked up about 200,000 miles on it.”

Andréa grimaced. “Oh God. You really need a new car, before that thing breaks down on you.”

“That’s what I keep tellin’ her,” said Grandpa George. He appeared in the doorway with a mug of tea. He waved at Andréa on your phone screen. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

“Hey, George. What’re your plans this evening? Go-karting or roller blading?” she teased with a grin.

George matched it with a hearty laugh. Andréa was his favorite.

“Well, I think I’ll start at the roller disco and see where my heart takes me,” he replied. Though he had fond stars in his eyes, and you smiled, knowing what memory he was about to recall.

“Ah, my wife and I met at one of those cheesy-ass places in the ‘70s,” he said. “She was a regular there, had the knee-high socks, the shiny skirt, her long hair whipping around like a rope… I remember she skated past me and knocked me clean onto my ass. I watched her skate away, that little skirt swishing. I think I was half in love right there.”

Your heart twinged, both for yourself and for him, as you could see the sting of melancholy in his eyes. Your grandmother had passed away a few years ago, but it was still deeply painful for both of you.

George shook his head, as if clearing the ghosts of memory from his mind. He looked over at you with a fond smile.

“Well, don’t you look beautiful?” he said. And he reached out for your hand, playfully raising it above your head and twirling you around as you smiled. “Reminds me of when your grandma helped you get ready for the senior prom.”

You snorted at that. “You mean when she almost glued my eyes shut, trying to get those fake lashes on?”

You’d rather pluck out your own eyes than have to ever again go through the “de-gluing process,” as she’d called it.

“It’s a shame we don’t have any pictures of you that night,” George considered. A knowing smile crossed his face. “You looked adorable.”

“I looked like I had a wonky eye,” you retorted. “Why do you think I burned all the evidence?”

Andréa tried not to, but she chortled at your expense. You shot her a narrowed look.

“Careful,” she teased. “Don’t strain yourself, Wonky. You’ve got a better night than prom ahead of you.”

“Speaking of, when’s that boy supposed to pick you up?” George asked.

You let out a breath, slightly nervous as you checked the time on your phone.

“In about ten minutes.”

“Okay, for the third time,” Sam said, trying his best to be patient. He sat on Dean’s bed while the man stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He was debating the age-old question: tie, or no tie?

“Red wine goes with red meat. White wine goes with chicken and fish,” Sam reminded him. “If you get red, you want to order a bottle of merlot. It’s full bodied without being dry as hell.”

“Yeah, merlot with meat. Got it,” Dean nodded. “What’s white again?”

“Everything else,” Sam said, once again. “If you order white, I’d say go with a pinot grigio. It’s light, can be dry or can be fruity. It all depends on personal preference, but I really like—”

“Well, I’m probably getting steak, so no to pinot,” Dean said. He finally decided on no tie, just a black suit jacket over the dark blue shirt, with a couple of buttons left open at the top.

Sam sighed and gestured at his brother. “And what if she wants fish? What if she hates red wine?”

Dean frowned. “Right. Okay. Pinot or merlot, got it.”

“Always ask to try it first,” Sam added. “Or here’s a thought. You could just be yourself. Order a beer and let her get whatever she wants.”

His frown deepening, Dean shook his head and left his bathroom. He crossed his bedroom to find his shoes—the nice black ones he only wore for weddings and funerals.

“Nah. This girl’s classy, Sam. Can’t half-ass this,” he said. A bit of unease coiled in his stomach, but he tried his best to ignore it.

He couldn’t remember the last time he got nervous to meet a girl…maybe because he hadn’t gone out on an actual “dinner and conversation” date in a while.

Or at least, he didn’t think he could count his dates as real ones.

“You’ll be fine,” Sam said. He could see plainly what his brother didn’t want to admit, only because they knew each other so well.

Dean glanced over at Sam and flickered at a smile. He grabbed his keys, his wallet, and didn’t think he was missing anything…

“Dean,” Sam said. He nodded over at the bundle on the dresser. Dean reached for it and shot his brother a wink.

“Hold the fort, Sammy.”

His car rumbled to a stop in front of your house just a few minutes late. Dean took a moment to admire the nice-looking beige house with its dark trim, old but still in good condition. And he wondered if you had roommates, or if you lived alone. Maybe you even owned this place.

He wasn’t sure, as he could only see one car in the driveway (your car, he recognized). He knew he’d need about two or three other roommates to be able to afford this two-story house.

He straightened his collar and blew out a breath. Get it together, asshole. You’re going on a date, not running into a burning building.

Funny, he’d probably be less nervous with the latter.

You’re not nervous, he reminded himself. You like her, that’s all…yeah.

Rolling his eyes at himself, Dean turned off the car and grabbed his key out of the ignition on his way out. He walked up the red brick path up to the porch and knocked on your door.

His pulse picked up a bit when he heard a pair of heels approaching the door. Soon enough, it opened, and Dean was greeted with a sight. Namely your face, and a smile spreading across it.

Beautiful, he couldn’t help but think, as his gaze dipped to take in the rest of you. He liked the color of your pretty green dress, the soft and classy makeup, the goddamn sexy heels, and the way your hair was pinned up. (Even though it looked so soft, he wanted to see it loose.)

He liked it all, especially that you seemed happy to see him.

“Hey there,” you said, a little breathy, like you’d been hastening down the stairs.

Dean gave you a smile, along with the small bouquet of flowers he’d been hiding behind his back.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His smile deepened when you uttered a gasp at the modest bundle of red tulips. “Feel like I should’a gone with something more impressive to match you. You look beautiful.”

You glanced up at him with a sweet smile, but you took the flowers and shook your head.

“No, these are gorgeous. I…can’t remember the last time someone gave me flowers,” you admitted.

It was a bit old-fashioned, but one of Dean’s earliest memories as a kid was seeing his dad come home, late from work as he so often was. But he’d stopped along the way at his mom’s favorite flower shop. He brought her red tulips rather than red roses.

Dean didn’t know why. Maybe that was her favorite flower, or maybe the roses were all out. In his memory though, his mom’s upset faded whenever she saw those flowers.

“Thank you,” you said warmly, taking Dean out of his thoughts. He flashed you a smile touched with slight embarrassment. He drew a hand through his short hair at the back of his head.

“Well, uh, are you ready?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yep! Just need to grab my purse and put these in some water.”

You welcomed him inside the house while he waited for you to find a vase. Dean took the opportunity to look around from where he stood in the hall. It looked big on the outside, but inside, it looked like a cozy family home. He took in the wood furniture, a paisley couch in the living room, family pictures on the wall and in a China cabinet rather than actual fine China.

It didn’t exactly scream high-powered saleswoman, but maybe you’d inherited it from your family. Or you were going to have it fixed up before you sold it, like some Property Brothers-type action. Or he was reading too much into it entirely, and should just focus on the fact that you’d agreed to go out with him to begin with.

Dean perked up when you returned with your purse on your shoulder and the tulips in a vase, which you set down on the living room coffee table for now. You greeted him again with smile.

“I’ll find a better place for those later, just didn’t want to keep you waiting,” you said.

“You’re good,” he said. He offered you his hand, along with a grin. “I hope you’re hungry though. I know how much you like dinner.”

You giggled, ducking your head in embarrassment. You followed him out the front door.

“If we can forget about that tipsy foot-in-mouth moment, that’d be great,” you said. Dean shook his head.

“Sorry, my mind’s like a steel trap,” he teased, even as he led you down the few steps of your porch in your heels.

“Oh, really?” Your brow raised. “Okay, I’ll remember you said that.”

Dean smirked. “Uh oh. Why do I feel like that one’s gonna bite me in the ass someday?”

“We’ll see,” you replied in amusement. “Future dinners might be on the line here.”

Your eyes widened when you finally saw his car parked behind yours in the driveway. Big and black and sleek and Chevrolet.

“Wow. That’s your car?”

Dean shot you a grin that was somehow proud without being smug.

“You like her?” he asked. He unlocked the car and even opened the passenger side door for you.

Wow again. A rare gentleman. You smiled and obliged him by climbing in.

“I think I do,” you said. Dean got in on his side after closing your door. The doors creaked and the engine rumbled when he turned the ignition. He looked over at you in a way that made your insides both flutter and melt. Anticipation and warmth.

“Think she likes you too,” he said.

Shit, what did Sam say? Dean stared down the wine menu, which may as well have been a Chinese grocery list, for all he knew.

Red was what? What the hell is a Malbec? Sounds like a kind of fish. That can’t be red wine.

He discreetly raised his gaze above the menu. You were sitting there, pretty much perfect while you looked over the appetizer menu. This was an Italian restaurant. A nice one, and a cut above Dean’s usual dining spots. Neither of you had eaten here before, but you looked vastly more comfortable than he felt.

“What sounds better to you, clams or bruschetta?” you asked. Your eyes flicked up to his thoughtfully. “You don’t strike me as a clammy kinda guy.”

A smile tugged at his lips. There was a “clam” joke in there somewhere, but he wasn’t sure you’d appreciate it.

“Bruschetta is the toast with little tomatoes, right?” he asked.

“Yep,” you nodded, but then your head tilted as you looked down at the menu again. “Or we could do meatballs. Comes with two—a ball each.”

You bit your lip over a smile, tinged with embarrassment, like you didn't realize what you were saying until you said it.

Dean smirked. Maybe your sense of humor was more in line with his than he expected.

“Well, I don’t typically go for balls, meaty or otherwise. But whatever you want, sweetheart,” he teased. Truth be told, he loved Italian meatballs, but right now, he liked your snort of amusement even more.

By the time the server, Liam, came to the table, you seemed to know what you wanted, while Dean was still looking over the wine list like it was Calculus homework.

“Would you like something to drink?” Liam asked.

Dean paused, unsure of how to respond. He glanced at you on reflex. You were waiting for him to say something, he knew. He just wasn’t sure what he could say that didn’t make him look like an idiot.

“I’ll have a glass of this Cabernet Sauvignon,” you replied to the server, and pointed out the name of the wine on the list. He nodded and wrote that down, then turned to Dean next.

“And for you, sir?” Liam asked.

Again, Dean had a conundrum.

He decided to play it safe. “I’ll have the same.”

You eyed him a moment, before you turned back to Liam.

“Can we try it first? See if we like it,” you said.

“Certainly,” he nodded. “Do you want to start with an appetizer?”

“Yes. The meatballs, please,” you replied, glancing at Dean with secret amusement. His lips hinted at a smirk.

When the server left to put in the order, you rested your elbows on the table and folded your hands under your chin.

“Something tells me you’re not big on wine,” you said.

Dean’s smile became more self-deprecating as he tapped a finger on the table.

“That obvious, huh? …Well, can’t say I didn’t try.”

“Dean Winchester.” Your head tilted as you considered him. “Are you trying to impress me?”

“Trying, maybe. Doubt I’m succeeding,” he admitted with a short laugh.

You let out a small sigh, but you didn’t look disappointed.

“I just want to get to know you,” you said. “You don’t have to woo me or anything.”

His brow rose in a subtle challenge. “What if you deserve a bit of wooing?”

You glanced down then, with a pretty blush beginning to dust your cheeks. He could still spot it in the dim lamplight, and it made him smile.

“I get what you’re saying,” he inclined his head. “I just have a feeling the guys you go out with know how to order a bottle of wine, at least.”

You met his gaze at that. Your brows drew together, and it wasn’t until that that you realized what Dean seemed to be thinking. Like you were somehow better than him, or out of his league. While that was incredibly flattering (and downright surprising), it just wasn’t true, you felt.

You’d been nervous as hell up until this point, convinced that this man’s interest was half because he’d saved you. Because really, between the cut of that jaw, that smile, and those eyes, he could have anyone. And yet, he’d noticed you.

So now, you gained enough courage to reach across the table and rest your hand over his. It earned his attention.

“Look, Dean,” you said. “You don’t know anything about the kind of guys I go out with, so why don’t you just try to get to know me, instead of being whatever you think I want?”

There was a challenge in your eyes, but your smile softened it, along with your hand in his. Dean curled his fingers around your hand, and he nodded.

“That’s fair,” he said. His thumb drew across the back of your hand as he considered what you’d said. He realized he wasn’t being fair…

“See, women tend to like the firefighter thing, until they don’t,” he said.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, after a little while, it’s like the shine wears off,” Dean admitted. “Between the long, sometimes inconsistent hours, the weight of the job… It’s either too much, or not enough, you know?”

As much as that disheartened you to hear, you kind of understood what he was saying. First responders led challenging lives, and you could imagine how hard it would be to maintain relationships—from family and friends to lovers. And when he met your eyes, you had a feeling you knew what he was really saying underneath.

It’s not enough…or he’s not enough?

You frowned and squeezed his hand.

“That must make it hard to find a real connection with someone,” you said.

Dean read the look in your eyes: sympathetic, but not pitying. He appreciated that, and you right now. But he was also getting a bit embarrassed. Good job, Mr. Overshare.

He let go of your hand just to lean back in his seat and card his fingers through his hair. He blew out a breath.

“Sorry. Don’t know why I’m saying all this crap,” he said with a chuckle.

You smiled and crossed your arms on the table. “It’s not crap.”

He gave you a wry smile.

This Dean is not what I expected, you thought. He was all panty-dropping smiles and one-liners, until he wasn’t. Behold, the softie underneath.

Liam soon returned with two glasses with a sample of the wine you’d requested. Dean took his glass, but waited a moment to watch you bring yours up to your face. You inhaled first before you took an experimental sip. You smiled and hummed at the taste. It led Dean to sip his as well.

He immediately made a face at the bitter, strong taste that razed across his tastebuds. He was used to the burn of alcohol, but this was just gross.

That’s when he caught that look on your face—a small smile as you gauged his reaction.

“Refreshing,” Dean quipped. And dry as hell.

“You want a beer instead?” you asked.

“Definitely,” Dean nodded, looking up at Liam. “Heineken, if you please.”

“That I can do.” The other man quirked a smile. “And for you, miss?”

You tapped on the rim of your wine glass. “A glass of this please. Thank you.”

“Absolutely,” Liam replied. “I’ll bring those shortly.”

Dean watched you with a smile. You caught him at it and smiled back questioningly.

“What?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nothin’.”

He liked the way you carried yourself. Smart and classy, without being a snob. Confident and sexy at times, while shy and freakin’ adorable at others…

Damn, Dean thought. He liked you. He did.

And he didn’t want to admit it, but that kind of scared him.

AN: Hohoo, so believe it or not, this is just part 1 of the first date! The rest is to come in the next chapter. But how did you like this so far?

Next Time:

You watched him curiously as he shrugged out of his jacket. He wrapped it around your shoulders, like this was some kind of Hallmark moment.

Heh. Can’t believe Meg had it right, he thought, as he caught your blush.

“Thanks,” you said softly.

“Can’t let you catch cold in this little dress,” Dean reasoned.

He gently tugged you in closer by the ends of his jacket. Once again, his gaze was drawn to your face, your eyes, and finally your lips. You still held both ice cream cones between you two, but he could be careful enough to sample something else.

He started to lean in…

Keep Reading: PART 4

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samwinchesterism · 1 month

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in re: “cas knows dean better than sam”

“cas sees dean as a whole person and sam just sees dean’s façade as his big brother slash parent” but like how and where. outside of your fanfiction. season and episode. scene and line. if it’s so obvious and apparent you should have at least 3-5 concrete examples right? “sam doesn’t know dean carried him out of the burning house” yeah but did cas? outside of a footnote in the angelic manila folder they gave him between seasons 3 and 4 so he could better manipulate him and sam into doing heaven’s bidding? like if you’re going to say “cas knows dean better than sam” than you need to show how cas succeeds where you perceive sam to be failing at the very least. but even your perceptions of how sam doesn’t measure up are so warped, blinkered, and moronic that it wouldn’t even be worth much if you could provide the textual evidence, but at least you’d have a semblance of a point. like say anything without going “as an eldest daughter…” “well my relationship with my sibling isn’t…” please say anything without fucking projecting your own self-pitying crybaby bullshit onto your little woobie dean and using the actual canon text of the show. I’m literally begging you.

like the thing of it all is and always has been that you’re so hell-bent on twisting the sam and dean relationship to fit into this narrow and almost entirely inaccurate mold which is the basis upon which you build the entire Destiel Mythos that you literally lose all sense of media literacy. you don’t even miss the forest for the trees, you miss the trees for like, the pretend invisible things you’re seeing in between the trees, the forest is a whole long way away from your current level of perception. because the Destiel Mythos is based entirely on the fact that dean is Not Seen and Not Appreciated and Not Loved and Cannot Be Himself until cas comes along, and that Family (read: sam) Is Only A Burden on Him That He Must Be Freed From In Order to Flourish, so you keep trying to warp the sam relationship into something that is only one dimension of it – and keep ignoring the ways in which dean is seen, loved and understood within it, because you need to keep lying to yourselves that there is a narrative need to emancipate dean from something that he has never wanted emancipation from because it is ultimately a net good for dean in the particular circumstances of their lives. it’s also profoundly unhealthy, codependent, evil and toxic etc. (a lot more dean’s fault than sam’s but I will nawt be getting into all that right now) but that doesn’t change the fact that sam and dean both know and understand and feel deeply that they are each other’s person – that they know the best and love the most in the world. but that – which IS true canon fact – is incompatible with the Destiel Mythos so it must be ignored and all good sense must be thrown out the window in order to do it.

anyway i digress there are two main categories of Bad Thinking that i will be addressing below

childhood/ “parent/child” / blah blah blah

every single thing people are saying in favour of the deeply stupid thesis in the title of this post is proof positive of the very silly form of ‘analysis’ I just described. a few things:

“wah sam didn’t know that dean carried him out of the burning house :( this means that dean withholds things from sam to protect him because he is a PARENT and sam can only know things about him in the context of him being a PARENT to him” – what the fuck are you on about genuinely. first of all reducing the sam/dean relationship exclusively to parent/child is in itself foolishness for so many reasons that I don’t have time for right now. but also, it’s clear that this is just something that happened when sam was a baby that just never came up. in the scene (1.09) where this is brought up, dean is mildly surprised that he or john never mentioned that detail and then states that sam knows the rest of the story (i.e. the actual traumatic stuff) just as well as dean does – which is true, demonstrably whenever they talk about it.

obviously there are some things that happened to dean in their childhood that sam doesn’t know about (or didn’t know about, until told in whatever episode they come up in). equally, there are things dean doesn’t know about sam’s childhood, e.g. the fact that he was so lonely he needed a zanna (11.08). or how dean didn’t remember that sam was friends with barry cook until he mentions it when they go back to their old school (4.13). or about the nature of sam’s relationship with amy pond (7.03). these don’t mean that ‘sam withheld these things to protect dean out of parental love’ lol, it’s just that there are details and events in each of their lives that the other happens to not have been told about.

similarly “sam didn’t even know dean wanted to be a firefighter L” girl did dean know sam wanted to be a lawyer? in 1.01 he’s pretty surprised that sam has a law school interview. the point here isn’t “neither sam nor dean know each other well,” these are minutiae that aren’t relevant to how well you know someone as a whole, and very poorly demonstrate the bad and inaccurate point that dean withholds things from sam the way a parent does a child (on a constant or regular basis). obviously the way they were raised, sam was deemed too young to know about certain things until he got older and dean had to keep that secret, but as shown in 3.08 flashbacks, most if not all of this is eventually revealed throughout their childhood when sam is still fairly young.

or possibly the dumbest one is that “wah sam doesn’t even know that dean reads books L” whenever that was he was also obviously joking because in more serious moments (e.g. 8.14) he admits that dean is smart/a better researcher than he is, literally remembers dean reading to him as a kid (8.21) so like. clam down

one of the extra annoying variants of this type of ‘proof’ covers things that are very clearly novel pieces of information about dean that dean, sam, and the audience are learning about dean in real time. like if you’re actually watching the show to comprehend it as it was intended to be comprehended, instead of funnelling everything through the Destiel Machine until it’s unrecognizable slop that fits neatly into your pre-ordained molds that Make Destiel Necessary In the Narrative (when it actually isn’t, at all) it’s abundantly clear. the top two worst offenders:

“sam didn’t even know that dean is good with kids :( he doesn’t even realize that dean raised him :(” first of all you people need to understand that parentification does not literally create a parent-child dynamic between siblings but I digress – this doesn’t make any sense bro. in 1.03 dean admits he doesn’t know any kids as an adult. dean being good with his own kid brother when they were both kids is to any reasonable person not necessarily linked with him being good with other random kids when he’s an adult. in 1.03 it’s clear that dean himself is a bit surprised that he’s able to connect w/ lucas so well because he’s clearly not dealt with a lot of kids since sam grew up. the whole point of this is that dean, sam, and the audience are all sort of seeing a new side of dean. who again is just 26. after this very early episode, there’s no question from sam that dean is able to connect w kids. sam being a bit surprised by this also has absolutely zero connection with him not understanding or realizing that dean looked out for him when they were both kids – sam is standing there at 22 years of age talking about adult dean and children – of fucking course he doesn’t mean himself are you stupid.

from the very first season, sam is very clearly aware of everything dean ~did for him~ when they were kids, see e.g. 1.21: “Dean...ah...I wanna thank you. […] For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you. And I don't know, I just wanted to let you know, just in case.”

and 1.06: DEAN: Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way. (SAM laughs.) SAM: Yeah, I know you are.

and then possibly even more stupidly, the one where it’s like “wah sam doesn’t even know dean can cook :( he doesn’t even know that DEAN was the one making him food as a babe in arms :(” – when sam is surprised that dean made something fairly gourmet and from scratch literally the first time they have ever had a permanent living space with a functional kitchen. in this VERY scene (8.14), dean himself points out that they haven’t had a kitchen before and when sam remarks on the irregularity of him doing serious cooking, he says “I’m nesting”, clearly showing that this is a novel development because they now have a kitchen, and that it’s irregular relative to past behaviour – both of them acknowledge this. because real proper in-depth cooking and making box mac and cheese for sam until he was like 11 and old enough to be left alone are two different things, which sam understands because he’s smart, unlike whoever chooses to make this point. dean never showed significant signs of liking to cook before this, which is what the exchange is about, but he did have to prepare food for them both when sam was too young – of course sam knows he had to, there are childhood memories referred to (e.g. 14.11) where sam is mentioned to literally help dean do the cooking as kids lol (and yes, genius, sam says ‘I didn’t know you knew what a kitchen was’ or something to that effect, but if you think he’s being 100% literal there I have an oceanfront property in Kansas to sell you)

again, obviously there are pieces that sam doesn’t know about dean, e.g. when he’s talking about his response to mary dying in 1.03. but again, Sam is 22, dean is 26, the last time they were in regular contact was when sam was 18-20, these are things that happen when people grow up, they’re able to reflect and share on childhood experiences if they’re close with their siblings as adults. it’s clearly not something that 26 y/o dean wanted to hide from 22 y/o sam. yes sam didn’t know everything about how dean felt when they were young, but that’s equally true in the other direction, and it’s such an irrelevant point in this discussion when, crucially, sam does learn these things about dean mostly fairly early on in the series (i.e. when they’re really not that deep into adulthood yet). cas was also not magically blessed w/ knowledge about dean, he also had to learn whatever it is that he knows, but somehow sam has to know everything about dean from age 7 or it doesn’t count when it’s sam lol.

“sam doesn’t know the One True Dean / doesn’t see through his facades”

the next branch of defending this flawed thesis is invariably that sam has little idea of the fronts and facades that dean puts up and is content to just believe them, whereas cas digs deep and sees the One True Dean that stupid sam always misses. there is nothing in the text that demonstrates this is true. multiple times, we see sam being very knowing of the fact that dean puts up fronts and facades. sam is also knowledgeable of the way dean perceives himself, and – demonstrated in multiple episodes before such sam lines were very poorly recycled and regurgitated into cas’s dialogue in 15.18, but keep acting like that was the first time anyone ever showed that they knew the One True Dean.

Obviously there are times where sam teases dean when he’s being more touchy-feely than usual, but 9.99 times out of 10 (as a conservative estimate in case there's something i'm forgetting otherwise i would say every time) that’s very clearly coming from a place of knowing the real dean vs. the façade he puts up because that’s the whole joke. and it’s allowed to be a joke because they’re siblings and that’s what siblings do lol. esp since sam and dean have touchy feely moments at the end of like every episode.

examples of all of the above off the top of my head (there are more than these, but these are the ones I can think of):

2.02 (about John’s death)

Sam: “I mean this ‘strong silent’ thing of yours, it's crap. […] I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man.”

Dean: “You know what, back off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to.”

Sam: “No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this. But you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay.”

2.03 (Sam to Dean, also about John’s death): “You know, you slap on this big fake smile but I can see right through it. Because I know how you feel, Dean. Dad's dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it, but you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to. It's an insult to his memory.”

Note that Dean essentially admits that Sam is right in these two instances in 2.04 bc I know yall have stupid shit to say about john too that has nothing to do with how anyone actually felt about him in canon

3.07 (about Dean’s demon deal – also proven true in later episodes)

SAM: Dude, drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid.

DEAN: I'm not!

SAM: You're lying. And you may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you.

DEAN: You got no idea what you're talking about.

SAM: Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out, and you're still going to Hell, and you're freaked.

DEAN: And how do you know that?

SAM: Because I know you! […] Yeah, I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And, I mean, I can't blame you. It's just […] I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again. 'Cause... (can't find words; tears in his eyes) just 'cause.

5.18 [Sam figures out what Dean is doing re: his plan to let Michael possess him, tracks him down, and eventually is the catalyst for Dean ‘making the right call’, which he predicts] – e.g.:

SAM: No, you won’t. When push shoves, you’ll make the right call

DEAN: You know, if tables were turned…I’d let you rot in here. Hell, I have let you rot in here.

SAM: Yeah, well…I guess I’m not that smart.

DEAN: I—I don’t get it. Sam, why are you doing this?

SAM: Because… you’re still my big brother.

8.14 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18 + sam intrinsically understanding the trials are a death wish for dean): “I'm closing the gates. It's a suicide mission for you. I want to slam hell shut, too, okay? But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you even got your own room now. You were right, okay? I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't – I am. But it's there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it. […] I AM smart, and so are you. You're not a grunt, Dean. You're a genius – when it comes to lore, to – you're the best damn hunter I have ever seen – better than me, better than dad. I believe in you, Dean. So, please – please believe in me, too.”

10.22 (understanding how much dean has ~done for him~)

SAM: I'm saving my brother.

CASTIEL: You told Dean—

SAM: —I know what I told Dean. Cas, look. I've been the one out there, messed up and scared. And alone. And Dean—

CASTIEL: He did whatever he could to save you.

SAM: Yes. I mean, it's become his thing. I owe him this. I owe him everything.

10.23 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18, x2 – from Sam to Dean): “You were also willing to summon death to make sure you could never do any more harm. You summoned me because you knew I would do anything to protect you. That's not evil, Dean. That's not an evil man. That is a good man crying to be heard, searching for... some other way. […] You will never, ever hear me say that you -- the real you -- is anything but good.”

11.13 (Sam understanding exactly how Dean feels about Amara being his ‘deepest desire’, and confirming that it doesn’t make him a bad person)

Dean: Why? Because if she is that means that I’m…

Sam: Means you’re what? Complicit? Weak? Evil?

Dean: For starters, yeah.

Sam: Dean. Do you honestly think you ever had a choice in the matter? She’s the sister of God, and for some reason she picked you and that sucks, but if you think I’m gonna blame you or judge you…I’m not.

Dean: You know that I want her ass dead.

Sam: Yes. Of course. And I know you’ve also probably beaten yourself up a hundred times over it, but where has that gotten us? (Long silence) Just how bad is it?

13.02 (Sam perfectly explaining Dean’s psyche to Jack)

JACK: Is that why Dean hates me?

SAM: Dean doesn’t hate you. It… Look, sometimes the wires in Dean’s head get crossed and—and he gets frustrated, and then he mixes frustration with anger, and—and fear.

JACK: Why would he be afraid?

SAM: Because Dean feels like it’s his job to protect everyone. And right now, we need to protect you. But we may also need to protect people from you.

14.03 [Sam assesses Dean’s psychological/emotional response to the Michael possession; end of episode, Dean confirms that Sam’s assessment was fully accurate]

14.10 [Sam is the only one able to snap Dean out of his weird Michael mind loop by using their code word]

14.11 [Sam figuring out that something is troubling Dean just based on the fact that Dean hugs him]

15.17 (self explanatory at this point)

DEAN: Chuck has to die. He has to! Otherwise he'll keep us tap dancing forever, and I can't live like that, man! I can't live like that! I won't!

SAM: I know you feel like that right now, okay. I know you do. But you gotta trust me. My entire life, you've protected me— from Dad, from Lucifer, from everything. I didn't always like it, you know, but... it's the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on. It's the only thing I've ever known that was true. So please... put the gun away. Just put it away, and we'll figure it out, Dean, we'll find another way, you and me. We always do.

like maybe there are some cas moments w dean along these lines too. i don't know, i don't remember what the guy says or does anymore it's been too many years and he is not memorable. but the point is where and in what capacity and based on what metric other than the amount of bad fanfic you've read does cas exceed sam in these respects.

so basically just. genuinely, what are you people literally ever talking about. go watch the show instead of saying stupid wrong stuff about sam on the hellsites all day. or watch another show (please for the love of god watch any other show this one is absolutely lost on you and it’s such a stupid one too i'm embarrassed for you)

#sorry i wasnt gonna be able to sleep otherwise my blood pressure got too high #sam winchester meta #sam winchester #anti destiel #sam and dean #whatever else my tags are #haven't done this in a minute #i'm sorry for being a cunty sam stan (tm) in this but have you considered we'd be nicer if you ppl were less dumb #this is not proofread it's not real meta

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