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#john winchester is a hell of a dad

beansprean · 1 month

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Ty @slaygentford, @unrequitedloveisabitch, and @pinknatural for this post lmao

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(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Waist up of Castiel opening the front door of a home with a blank expression, wearing a blue robe completely open. John Winchester is standing on the doorstep, back to the viewer. 1b. Reverse shot. John looks down at Cas's exposed junk, brow furrowed, but says nothing. A floating bar next to his head titled 'homophobia loading' is half full.

2a. Reverse shot back to Cas. Dean's voice rings out from somewhere in the house: "Baby, do you want chocolate chip pancakes?" Without taking his eyes off John or changing his expression, Cas replies, "Of course, my love." John keeps staring at his exposed junk. 2b. Repeat. John looks up just in time for the door to slam in his face.

3. Screenshot of a tumblr post by slaygentford that says "Cas answering the door to John in heaven wearing that robe, nothing under it, dick out while sounds of dean cooking come from within the house is truly worse for him than the fifty whatever years he spent being tortured in hell." A reblog by unrequitedloveisabitch says "had to immortalize your tags deanspurpleflannel they are too perfect not to XD" and has a screenshot of tags by deanspurpleflannel that read "#john: #cas: #dean in the distance: Baby, do you want chocolate chip pancakes? <3 #cas without breaking eye contact with john: of course my love <3 #and then he closes the door." /end ID

#spn #spn fanart #supernatural #destiel #deancas #john winchester is a hell of a dad #homophobic john winchester #my art #fanart #image described

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wrenwinchester · 18 days

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Don’t think about malnourished baby Sammy. Don’t think about little four year old Dean begging his Dad to buy formula instead of ammunition, of four year old Dean burning himself trying to warm up Sammy’s milk. Don’t think about Dean waking up every couple hours after crawling into Sammy’s crib to make sure he was still breathing. Don’t think of little four year old Dean who used to beg to feed his little brother his bottle, now not having another option. Don’t think about baby Sammy getting sick and Dean begging John to make him a doctors appointment to make sure he’s okay. Don’t think of baby Sammy learning to walk with his older brother holding his hands, of baby Sammy crying when he sees John because he doesn’t recognize his own dad. Don’t think of baby Sammy calling Dean dad, or the fact that Sam’s first steps were towards Dean. Don’t think about the fact that the doctors were worried about Sam’s weight at that doctors appointment, and ever since, Dean has made sure that Sammy always had enough to eat, even at the cost to his own health.

Don’t think about twelve year old Dean collapsing on the first night of a hunt because he hadn’t eaten in four or five days, because Sammy needed the food. Don’t think about John yelling at Dean asking what the hell is wrong with him etc. and Dean just shrugs it off. Because he’s fine. And he ignores it. He shoves the aching for food way down and ignores it. So, when they go back into town because they hit a dead end, and get food at a diner, Dean gorges on the food, and eats half of John’s too. Don’t think about John seeing this, having a flash of worry but ignoring it because “it’s Dean he’s always fine.” Don’t think about Dean worrying the first time Sammy called him Dad because “no, no, no, Sammy, I’m your big brother Dean.” Because he’s worried that his Dad is going to freak out if he hears Sammy calling Dean dad.

Don’t think about the fact that Sam probably didn’t learn the word Mom until he was at school because it wasn’t something his dad and Dean said. Don’t think about Sam driving alone for the first time and hitting a dear and calling Dean because he didn’t trust that his dad would answer. Don’t think about Dean, sitting in some motel at 23 years old after a fight with his dad who stormed off debating calling Sam because he’s the only one who would get it.

Don’t think about the Winchester brothers as little kids left alone in motel rooms for too long, underfed, and unsure of when their Dad was going to be back.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #spn #the winchesters #weechesters #teenchesters #the winchester brothers #supernatural thoughts #supernatural brainrot #analysis of supernatural

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castiwls · 3 months

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"sacrifice, that's what we do for the people we love"

being the middle child in the winchester family...

I’d imagine you being like two years younger than Dean and two years older than Sam. So like literally the middle child

Your memories of your mum are fuzzy but you can recall a few things

When Mary died you were only two so you didn’t really understand what was going on for a while.

When you all first left Lawernce you spent most of that first night in a motel room crying because you wanted your mom and your bed. (Dean had to comfort you cause John left his two toddlers and baby alone in a motel #dadoftheyear)

When you were like ten your dad told you about what he had been doing for the past eight years. You were terrified but he made you promise not to tell Sam. He also made sure you knew that it was your job to keep Sam safe.

Basically, you stopped being a child at ten.

You and your brothers were really close.

You and Dean basically trauma-bonded over hunting and also having wayyyy too much responsibility at a young age.

Out of you and Dean, you were more emotionally available so Sam tended to tell you more.

As he got older he would talk to you about getting out and stuff. While your dad and Dean were very much into hunting you and Sam were more of on the sidelines.

Sam got his love of reading from you. He’d always tell you about the books he was reading and what he was doing in class.

You’re the mediator for the family. It was always you who broke up fights. You were also able to calm your father down.

Mentioning in a passing comment that you didn’t want to hunt when you were like 15 and John flipped.

“If you don’t want to help kill the thing that killed your mom then you can get out.”

So you did. You left at 15 for 6 months.

In reality, you went to stay with Bobby but you never told your dad that.

Dean begged you to stay and would call every day. So would Sam.

Around this time Sam also started to want to leave.

“I wanna come stay with you.” You sighed leaning against the wall. The phone rested between your ear and shoulder. “You can't Sam. Dad would flip your too young.” He let out a frustrated noise but let the topic go. (for now)

Dean would also call often and beg you to come home.

“Look he didn’t mean it, alright. It was just a heat of the moment thing.”

You did eventually come back. (Bobby wasn’t happy but let you go)

Your brothers were overjoyed and you actually got an apology from your dad (shocker.)

Things were ok for a few years and then Sam got a bit older and started talking about school. He’d only talk to you about it though. It wasn’t that Dean hated the idea but he didn't understand.

One day when you were 18 and he was 16 Sam asked to talk in private. So you took him to a dinner near the motel and he told you about Stanford.

“One of my teachers thinks it's possible.” He pushed the pamphlet towards you. “I just need a signature from an adult and I know Dad won't sign it.” You quietly looked over the pamphlet for a moment. A sense of pride washed over you as well as relief. This was his way out. “Of course, I’ll sign it.”

You both kept it quiet for the next year and when his acceptance letter came in you both kept it to yourselves but you were so proud

#proud parent moment.

Though eventually, Dean found the letter.

“Did you know about this?” He asked holding up the letter. You felt your blood run cold as you grabbed the letter from him. “Yes. I did know.” You admitted. “It was me who signed the papers.” Your brother's eyes widened a look of betrayal crossed his face. “Why would you do that?” His voice began to rise as he spoke. “Because Sam deserves a future Dean.”

You two didn’t speak for a while after that. Dean got over it though.

When it came time for Sam to leave that's when all hell broke loose.

You’d never heard your dad yell so loud. He and Sam went back and forth for hours until your younger brother just walked out. You and Dean both followed him. After calming him down you went with him to the bus and said goodbye.

Dean was kinda non-plussed (inside he hated it and was worried sick). You were worried but happy that he was getting out.

When you and Dean went back to the motel John was furious. He blamed you (of course)

“This is your fault. You're the one who put all those ideas in his head and look what happened.”

Dean jumped in front of you and told him to back off.

“Sam’s his own person you can’t blame her for this!”

After this, you and Dean get closer. John starts taking more hunts alone meaning that you and Dean spend a lot of time just driving around.

You would probably class this as the first time in your life you felt truly happy. Hunting with Dean was easier and there were fewer arguments.

Sam would call u often to update you. When he told you that he’d met a girl you were so happy for him. (it really seemed he got out)

But then your dad went missing and Dean insisted on getting Sam to help.

You were glad to have both your brothers back but at the same time felt insanely guilty as you watched Sam fall back into hunting.

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zepskies · 5 months

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Smoke Eater - Part 15

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

AN: Thank you as always for the lovely responses on the previous chapter! It was a long one, so thank you for sticking through with me. We're about to lighten up a little with some Christmas spirit! ❄️🎁

**Also, if you're a fan of The Boys (and Soldier Boy), there's an awesome book you can check out, called Supes Ain’t Always Heroes: Inside the Complex Characters and Twisted Psychology of The Boys.

If you want to learn more about the book (including cast interviews and a character study on Soldier Boy), I wrote a review about it here!

Otherwise, on to some more firefighter!Dean!

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, fluff, tinge of angst, hurt/comfort, lots of feels.

Part 15: “The Good Part”

“How many damn arrests does that make?” Daniel asked. He gripped his pool cue with both hands while he leaned on it.

His son stood at the other end of the pool table, lining up his shot. He paused to think.

“Six,” Nick replied. His cue released, and it knocked two of his balls into the pocket.

“Six,” Daniel repeated, while Nick came his way to find an angle for his next turn.

Daniel shook his head. His lips were angrily pursed. His eyes might’ve been on the pool game, but he was playing chess in his mind. He had underestimated John Winchester for far too long, it seemed.

The man was stubborn as all hell. And he’d been busy lately, getting “Azazel’s” men busted for all manners of bullshit.

“Alastair’s mole says Winchester’s been calling in favors from his old friends in Narcotics, trying to bust our small fries,” Nick reported. “Getting them on everything from petty theft to drug possession, with intent to sell. But it’s nothing we can’t pull ‘em out of.”

“Time, money, added risk,” Daniel cited on his fingers all the reasons why John Winchester was a pain in his ass. “It’s only a matter of time before they get a warrant to rip apart Savage & Co., sweep the whole damn building. For forensic evidence, our files, all the jazz.”

Daniel’s fingers drummed thoughtfully against his chin. “A damn cop thinks he’s being cute.”

Nick missed his second turn. His hand fell against his thigh in annoyance, but he looked up.

“Dad, it’s your move.”

Daniel rubbed at his chin. His eyes were no longer seeing the board in front of him. Eventually, they slid up and met his son’s gaze.

“We’re going to start from the beginning,” he said.

Nick’s face gave away his confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

Daniel just smiled.

It was Christmas Day, and John was late. Sam and Dean were used to that drill, so they weren’t expecting him until dinnertime.

Meanwhile, it gave you a chance to find your footing as you got to know Eileen. She had helped you bake the pies that were now cooling on the counter (pumpkin and berry crumble), and a few of the side dishes for dinner. Sam had covered cleaning up the rest of the house, while Dean tackled his favorites: the ham and the mac and cheese.

Now the guys were in the living room watching football while you and Eileen were still in the kitchen, decorating some gingerbread cookies you two had made. She enjoyed it; doing holiday crafts with her students had been bringing out her artistic side, she told you. You were happy for the help and the conversation.

You later tried to cover up your snort of laughter as she finished telling you the story of how Dean once dared Sam to wear women’s underwear for a whole week.

If he managed it, Dean had promised to do all the household chores for three months. If Sam couldn’t make it the whole week, then he would face the consequences: Dean would tell their dad about the bet.

“How old were they?” you asked.

Eileen scoffed. “Sam was a senior in college.”

You burst out laughing again. “So too old, is the answer… Did he win?”

Eileen gave you a mischievous smile.

“He did,” Dean said, as he appeared in the kitchen doorway with a familiar smirk. “I’ve got photographic evidence. It was a cheetah print thong, in case you were wondering.”

Your eyes widened on a laugh. “Oh my God.”

Cheetahlicious, you couldn’t help joking in your mind. Even if you’d rather not think of Sam wearing a pair of Victoria Secret’s best.

Eileen giggled with you. Dean’s amusement gave way to curiosity as he eyed the little gingerbread men you two were icing. You warned him off with your eyes, but it took Eileen batting his hand when he tried to steal a cookie.

“Hey! Wait ‘til after dinner,” she said.

Dean pouted. “Come on, don’t be stingy.”

Rolling her eyes, Eileen sighed.

“You’re like one of my kids,” she said, while signing with her hands. But she caved and handed him a cookie. “Here. To tide you over.”

Dean smiled and signed back to her in ASL, Thank you.

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” he said. He leaned down to kiss her cheek in a brotherly gesture.

He shot you a wink before taking a bite of his prize. You shook your head at him, even though you were smiling. He came around to your side of the table. His hand rested on your back and he bent down towards your ear.

“I actually came over for you,” he said. “Got a minute?”

Your brows rose, but you turned to Eileen in askance. “I’ll be right back. Is that okay?”

She nodded and made an “OK” gesture. “Of course.”

You smiled and let Dean lead you out of your chair, and even out of the apartment. He made sure you both grabbed your coats by the front door.

“Where are we going?” you asked. While you put on your coat over your sweater and jeans, you didn’t notice him grabbing two sets of keys.

“Just downstairs. No big deal,” he said, hefting on his own leather jacket.

You eyed him with some suspicion, but you walked with him down to the elevators and let him keep you close to his side. He smelled like the cologne you bought him for Christmas, and he was already wearing the new watch as well.

You’d struggled to find him the right gift. Nothing felt quite enough after everything he’d done for you the last few months. He’d assured you that he was grateful for both gifts, and had even tried to say the watch looked too expensive. (You’d shut him up with a kiss.)

Now, you had to wonder what he was up to as he led you into the parking lot, but not toward Baby. Instead, you two stopped in front of a shiny silver Chevy parked in a guest spot.

“Dean, what’d you do?” you asked, both excited and worried. He shot you a grin and dangled the keys in front of you.

“You like her?” he asked. His eyes were dancing. “You could keep her, if you ask nicely.”

Your face slackened. You looked between him and the sleek looking car.

“What?” You covered your mouth with both hands. Even after a few moments, your brain was still having a hard time computing. “No…what? Oh my God!”

You grabbed onto his jacket, just in case your legs failed you. Dean laughed and gathered you up in his arms. By the time you peeled your eyes away from the silver beauty to look up at your boyfriend, there were tears already swimming in your eyes.

“Dean, this is really too much. Where’d you find—”

“Bobby had it sitting in his garage for years,” he explained. His hand came up to brush your cheek, and the tears there. “I cleaned her up, dropped in a new engine, safe-proofed with new tires, new airbags, the works. Got her purring like a kitten.”

Your eyes grew a little wider with every admission. Then you softened, gripping the edges of his jacket while you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling.

“How much did he sell it to you for?” you asked. Dean dropped his head back with a sigh.

“Don’t you wanna take a test ride before we start hagglin’?”

You lightly smacked his chest. “Hey. How much?”

He let out another heavy sigh, but you eventually got it out of him. While the price wasn’t as bad as you might’ve expected, you still shook your head.

“I still have a decent chunk of insurance money left. I’m giving you at least half,” you said.

Dean shook his head. “This is my gift to you.”

Your lips pursed, despite the smile that wanted to peek through.

“Nice try,” you said wryly. “You already got me perfume.”

“That was just the decoy.” He grinned, and held you a bit tighter against him. He nodded towards the car. “She’s the main event.”

You wanted to sigh, but this conversation wasn’t over. You were definitely not letting him buy you a whole new…old car. You turned to look at it again.

“What model is this?” you asked.

“2002 Camaro Z28,” Dean rattled off. It sounded impressive, but you didn’t know much about cars.

He let go of you so you could get a closer look. Your hand passed over the hood, but didn’t touch, as if you were afraid of staining the paint with your fingerprints. He had to admit, he’d waxed it up good and managed to get rid of a lot of superficial nicks and scratches.

What he said was true though; Bobby had given him a frankly ridiculous deal. Because when Dean had told him what you’d been through after the car accident, dealing with your grandfather’s passing, and now your ever-mounting expenses, Bobby hadn’t let him walk away from Singer Salvage with anything else but this car. He’d even helped Dean get the new parts he needed to fix it up.

“Is it automatic or manual?” you asked, trying to peer through the driver’s window. “I haven’t driven stick in a hell of a long time.”

Dean came up from behind you and his warm hand found your hip. You let him draw you back into his arms, leaning against his chest.

His lips were close to your ear when he said, “I think you’re damn good at driving stick.”

It took you a second, but the heavily laden innuendo in his deep voice was hard to miss. You uttered a laugh and swatted his arm.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said. You were still smiling when you turned and twined your arms around his neck. Then you leaned up for a kiss—one that kept getting deeper with the full force of your gratefulness, and your love for this man.

“It’s an automatic,” he answered, between kisses. You giggled against his lips.

You barely felt the chill on the air. Your heart was beating fast, even when you pulled away from him. Your eyes slowly opened and met his. He smiled down at you and curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. As usual, you had most of it clipped up.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was quiet, but steady.

You let out a shaky breath. Emotion was clogging your throat, making your tears burn anew.

“This is a bit more than a Christmas present,” you said. He gave a more self-deprecating smile.

“Well, it’s also kind of an apology,” he said. “For getting you mixed up in my ‘family business.’”

He still felt guilt beyond belief for putting you in danger. For your life being threatened. For being the reason you couldn’t go home.

You just shook your head. Your hand raised to press against his cheek. Your thumb drew tenderly along his chin.

“I thought you said you were part of my family now?” you said. “We’ll figure this out together, like everything else.”

Dean’s eventual smile lightened you, and his kiss warmed you down to your toes.

“If you want, let’s go for a ride after dinner,” he said.

It was your turn to smirk. Your hands migrated under his jacket and teased at his belt.

“Well, I’m certainly down for a ride,” you said.

Dean laughed and squeezed your hips. “All right. I’m puttin’ you on my naughty list.”

When John finally arrived, the brothers welcomed him in first with big man hugs and good-natured ribbing for him being so damn late.

In Sam’s words, Upholding a Winchester family tradition.

John had taken that with a chuckle. “Smells damn good in here.”

“Yeah, food’s been done for an hour,” Dean prodded at him again. His grin betrayed his teasing, however. His welcoming hand stayed on his dad’s shoulder until they reached the living room, where Sam had set up a longer fold out table and chairs to function as the makeshift dining room, since the table near the kitchen only seated three.

There you were opening a bottle of Jack Daniels. You smiled up at John.

“Figured you were more of a whiskey than wine kind of guy,” you said. You were a bit nervous to see him again, no doubt with flour in your hair and frosting staining your hands. He clasped your shoulder with a hint of a smile.

“You’d be right. Good to see you, darlin’,” he said.

“You too,” you replied. Despite the fact that the first and last time you two had met, it had been in front of your house as the police rifled through your life, looking for more explosives. He graciously didn’t bring that up as he greeted Eileen next.

Once dinner was on the table, there was a lot of catching up between the brothers and their father while you and Eileen continued talking, even through dessert.

“This really is amazing,” she told you, pointing her fork at her slice of berry crumble. “I can see why you went to culinary school.”

You blushed as Sam, Dean, and even John echoed her praise. All three men had generous slices of both pies.

“Well, thank you. I’m glad you guys enjoy it,” you said, and your smile was genuine.

You loved making good food, but you loved feeding people even more. Whether it was a simple hearty soup or a rich dessert, you liked putting smiles on their faces and giving them a good experience; one they could share with their family and friends. Even better if it was your family.

Or as Dean would say, Your people.

To you, that was life.

“I’m tellin’ you, if you opened up a bakery you’d make a killing in this town,” Dean said. He nudged your hand with the one that held his fork; it held a precarious piece of pumpkin pie.

You shot him an amused look.

“Don’t you look at me sideways, I’m serious,” he said, laughing a little, but his gaze was steady.

Your cheeks warmed against your will. He believed in your dream, even when you couldn’t quite let yourself.

“Hey, if you ever want to look into applying for a loan, I could help,” Sam said, earning your attention. “I have a friend who works at a bank.”

Your brows raised. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we were pre-law together back in college, but he figured he was better with numbers.”

You smiled. “Well, it would make it easier knowing I was dealing with your friend.”

“Yeah, his name’s Brady. Let me know if you want me to call him,” he said.

You bit your lip, but you nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

Maybe they were right. Maybe you should start to believe in yourself, just a little bit more.

“This was all real delicious,” John said to you, when you came back from bringing the leftovers to the kitchen.

Sam and Dean were already arguing about who was doing the dishes and who was drying them. Meanwhile, Eileen was putting away the food (and probably rolling her eyes).

“Yeah, it was a team effort for sure,” you replied. “Dean’s actually a really good cook.”

John chuckled. “Yeah, well, he didn’t get that from me. I can barely boil a damn egg.”

You smiled to yourself; you could imagine Dean got it from his mother then.

Meanwhile, John was watching you stack the empty plates as he grew more contemplative. He’d always been proud of his sons. They were good men, with strong heads on their shoulders.

He often looked at Sam and saw that he seemed happy. Despite the demands of his job, he was learning to balance that with the life he led with Eileen. As a father, John looked forward to the day when they made a firm foundation, taking the next step towards building a life together.

But Dean had seemed to him, a little unstable. John was still proud of his eldest, but while he’d seen a glimpse of it that day at your house, he saw it even more today. Like his son finally had an anchor, tethering him to dry land.

Even so, he couldn’t help heaving a sigh. And he asked you something he knew he shouldn’t.

“Have you given any more thought to filing a report on Nick Savage?” he asked.

You paused in your plate and cup stacking. You looked up at him with a frown, but you thought about your words before you said something rude.

“Yes, I did,” you replied. “I decided my life and my peace were more important.”

He let out a short sigh. “I understand—”

“I’m sorry, John, but I don’t think you do,” you said. Your words were matter-of-fact, if a tad more sharp than you meant them to be. Your hands were starting to tremble.

You crossed your arms to try and steady yourself, but Dean ended up doing just that, by joining your side and resting a hand at the small of your back. He was frowning, glancing between you and his father.

“Tell me you’re not talking about what I think you are,” Dean said, addressing John in particular. “Not on damn Christmas.”

“Like you said, it’s her decision,” John replied. His gaze once again focused on you.

You let out a breath, mostly of exasperation.

“I’m going to bottom-line it for you. If I report that man, and you can’t guarantee me a job and safety until it’s all over, then I’m not poking the bear,” you said. “I plan to keep my head down until I can find another job. Until then, you can have at him all you want. Just leave me out of it.”

Part of you felt selfish. You knew what John was trying to accomplish, and you knew how personal this fight was for him, and for Sam and Dean for that matter. You just couldn’t shake your gut instincts here. You knew Nick far too well by now, and you didn’t want to underestimate him again.

“I agree,” said Dean. You gave him a grateful look.

John conceded with a nod, but all of you knew he wasn’t satisfied. It became a bitter ending to an otherwise brilliant day after he left for the night.

In your mind, it wasn’t quite over yet though. You had a plan up your sleeve for one Dean Winchester.

Sam and Eileen had their own time together while you and Dean went for a drive in your new car. You’d have to transfer your plate and registration and insurance, so it was technically an “illegal” drive, but it was already late and traffic was scarce.

By the time you pulled back into the parking lot, you were smiling from ear to ear, and Dean was giving you that smug grin that said, Aw yeah, I did good.

You couldn’t even fault him for it, because he did exactly that.

Even when you and Dean were getting ready for bed, it didn’t quite feel real. You were living with your boyfriend of just a few months, you now had a new car, and a crime lord had threatened your life.

You chose to focus on the new car. And on your boyfriend, who sat on the edge of his side of the bed, rubbing his right shoulder through his shirt. You knew it must still be sore, though he likely wouldn’t admit it.

Hence, you were about to enact Phase 1 of your plan…

You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.

Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”

“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.

You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.

You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”

He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.

“Well, if you’re offering…”

You withdrew your hand from his arm, but you spoke close to his ear.

“Are you asking?”

He let out a small sigh, despite his lingering smile.

“All right. Will you please give me a lil’ massage?” he asked.

He couldn’t see your triumphant smile, but you happily kissed his cheek.

“I sure can,” you replied. You laid gentle hands on his shoulders, however briefly. “Stay right here. Don’t move, but take off your shirt.”

“All right, Miss Bossy,” he grumbled. You knew he was teasing by the amused look he threw your way.

“I thought you liked that,” you teased back.

You climbed off the bed before he could playfully grab you, and you giggled all the way to the bathroom. There you began Phase 2 of your plan.

First, you collected a few different bottles from your designated drawer under the sink. Then, you made a quick wardrobe change, after popping back into the bedroom to grab something from your nightstand.

You also connected your phone to the speaker on his nightstand and put some music on a low volume. It was a playlist he’d made and shared with you a while ago, with songs he thought you’d like. The Eagles’ “Take It to the Limit” was definitely on the list.

By the time you returned to Dean, he was indeed shirtless, still in his sweatpants, and checking his watch.

“I’m here, I’m here,” you said. You climbed across the bed with your small haul—a difficult feat with your hands full, but you managed.

Dean turned to look at the bottles of moisturizer you dropped next to him on the bed. He rose a brow.

“Twilight Woods. Japanese Cherry Blossom. Appletini. Are these my only options?” he asked. His face was half bemused, half reluctant.

You almost burst out laughing. “Which one strikes your fancy?”

He scratched the back of his head. You opened the second bottle first (your personal favorite), so he could smell.

“Not bad actually,” he muttered. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t giggle, but you managed to open the other two for him to get a whiff.

“Eh, the first one I guess,” he said.

Japanese Cherry Blossom. AKA: a classic from Bath & Body Works.

You finally had to laugh. “Just kidding. I’ve got this.”

You held up a jar you’d been hiding behind him. Its logo said: Massage Oil.

“I just wanted to see which girly moisturizer you secretly wanna slather all over yourself,” you said.

Dean shot you a wry look, but only then did he see what you were wearing.

“Oh, hold up,” he uttered.

Your hair was let loose, how you knew he liked, and you’d teased it out a little. You’d had to give away the red lingerie you’d bought, to rid both of you of its lingering memories of your work Christmas party. Instead, you’d found something in a vibrant emerald green: satin and lace.

Dean’s hand reached for your waist, probably to bring you closer. But you playfully slapped his hand.

“Eh-eh! Not yet,” you said to his surprised face. You smiled. “I have a plan for you tonight.”

Slowly, he smirked. His eyes still dipped to take in the rest of you, from your pretty face, to exposed skin and cleavage, to shiny satin that clung to your curves and draped down to mid-thigh.

“I can see,” he said. His voice was a notch deeper. “Merry Christmas to me.”

Despite your blush and growing smile, you turned him back around by his shoulders.

“Just relax.”

You let your hands drift up the back of his neck to slide your fingers through his hair. There you began with a slow, gentle massage of his head. You felt him take a deep breath.

You couldn’t see it, but Dean’s eyes had closed at your ministrations. He secretly really liked the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. It made his shoulders loosen; with tension he didn’t know he had releasing from the neck down.

Aside from the rigors of his job, he also had to work out and condition his body to keep up his stamina. He probably didn’t spend as much time as he should on this aspect of things, making sure he wasn’t overtaxing himself.

He appreciated what you were doing though. He knew you cared about him, that you loved him. But he liked that you were also a caring person, who tried to take care of him. Dean hadn’t really had that…from anyone before. Sometimes, it was hard for him to let you.

…Damn, we really got too much in common, he realized.

When you migrated back down his neck, your hands left for a moment to gather up some oil. It was warm against his skin when you started between his shoulders, digging with the heel of your hands.

He groaned deep, surprising even himself.

Behind him, your brows were furrowed. “You’re really knotted up here. When was the last time you had a massage?”

Dean chuckled. “Never.”

You frowned. “Hmm. Okay, we’re definitely doing this more often.”

“No complaints from me,” he said with a grin.

Of course, you gave special attention to his right shoulder. You were gentler there, asking what was tender and what felt good, or too much. By then you had an easier time getting the truth out of Dean. He let you know when the pressure was too much, and you even helped him stretch out that arm until the muscles and joints were warmed up and the pain was gone.

You encouraged him to lie on his stomach in the middle of the bed, so you could start on his back. Your hands glided down planes of muscle and smooth slopes while you straddled his thighs. The only sounds you heard from him were occasional moans and rumbling, pleased sounds. That was also what let you know that he hadn’t fallen asleep.

“Okay, turn over,” you said, smiling when he groaned in protest. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

“What the hell’s the good part then?” he asked. His voice was muffled in the mattress, but when he turned around, flopping onto his back, his eyes once again took in the green satin and seemed to remember what your real intentions were.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. His grin was lazy, now that he was beyond relaxed, but his hands found purchase on your hips. You smiled down at him.

You let the remaining oil on your hands glide up his chest, until you lowered down for a kiss. It was unhurried and sweet.

“I love you, you know?” you said.

Dean swept his fingers through your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear.

He smiled. “I’ve got some idea, yeah.”

You both laughed, soft and true. Your hand rested against his cheek as you pressed your lips to his, soft and slow at first, but soon gaining in both passion and urgency. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, grinding your center against his growing length.

He groaned. No goddamn panties on. Good.

You kissed your way from his lips to his neck. Your teeth grazed his ear while you rolled your hips into his. It was a tease for both of you, but not for long, as Dean grew impatient enough to slide his sweatpants down, followed by his hands slipping under the satin covering your thighs. They traveled further still, squeezing your breasts and rolling hardened nipples under the pads of his thumbs.

Your breath hitched, and your pleased hum was music to his ears. By now you were bracing yourself against the mattress, but you used his shoulders as leverage to raise yourself up.

You took his hands and encouraged them to bunch up the satin and pull it over your head. Dean sat up with you still in his lap, and once his strong arm wrapped around your waist, it was skin to flushed skin.

You held his face and brought him down to you for another fierce kiss. He held you tightly against him, hands splayed across your back and tangling in your hair. His arms were a cage you never wanted to escape.

But you did press away from him, just for a moment, so you could reach down between your bodies to take a firm hold of his cock. You guided it to your entrance. There was already a small flood between your legs, and your core ached for him.

There was almost no resistance when you slowly sunk your hips down and down, until he was buried deep inside you.

You both made sounds of pleasure, with labored breaths as Dean’s hand cradled your cheek. He laid open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, teeth grazing down your neck.

You clung to his shoulders and began to move, slow in the way you let almost the full length of his cock escape you, before you slid back down. Dean moaned into your skin, and you let out a shuddering sigh.

You pushed at Dean’s chest until he was lying back, and you continued rolling your hips against his. He helped you create a steady rhythm on top of him, but he was being treated to a feast of the eyes as well as the pleasure rocking through his body. He watched the way you swept your hair back. The way your eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration as you bit your lip.

But he couldn’t stay still for long; he knew he was close enough to practically taste his end, but you had some miles to go. He gripped your thigh with one hand while the other glided up between them, to further part your folds. His fingers found your clit, circling insistently like it was a button. It had your hips stuttering.

“Oh, God,” you uttered. “Dean—”

He managed to smirk through panting breaths. “Right there, right baby?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You continued to move as steadily as you could, but the feeling of him deep inside combined with his talented fingers playing you like a five-string guitar—it finally made you tighten on him, shuddering deep inside. Tingles broke across your skin, zipping up your spine as you gasped.

Dean helped you with the last few hard thrusts that brought him along with you, and you felt his warmth spilling inside you.

It wasn’t the first time that had happened, since you were on birth control. But after you slid off his lap and practically rolled into his side, him welcoming you with an arm wrapping around your waist, it did make you think, as you caught your breath.

It made you think about the first time you and Dean slept together. It had been the first and last time you’d asked him to wear a condom. The next morning, he’d made a remark that still hung in the back of your mind…

“You like kids, huh?”

The thought still rattled through your mind now, after you and Dean shared a quick shower, ridding you both of the oil clinging to your skin. The thought remained when you slid into bed, under fresh sheets and thick covers, and close to your man. He cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling.

Contrary to what this night had been, the whole “moving in together” thing hadn’t been all that easy. You two had bickered about the way he often left drawers and cabinets open and dirty clothes on the floor.

He had made remarks about your hair products taking up too much space in his drawers. Not to mention how morning routines needed to adjust because Dean liked to shower in the morning, but you needed the mirror not fogged up in order to do your makeup.

Right now, however, you had peace. You felt safe here, and you weren’t alone in a huge house filled with far too many memories.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

Dean’s lips lingered on your forehead. “Hmm?”

“I know this situation is sort of temporary, me living here,” you said. “So much has happened that we haven’t really talked about…what we both want, down the line.”

He pulled back enough from you to see your face. His face betrayed a thread of confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean like…” you hesitated, but you realized you were probably going to have to be direct. “Are you a marriage and kids kind of guy? Is that even something you’ve thought about?”

Dean met your gaze. It took him a moment, but he let out a short sigh.

“You wanna know what made me want to start dating, for real?” he asked.

You blinked; you hadn’t expected that, but you nodded.

“I started thinking about what would happen if something happened to me on the job,” he said. You frowned, but before you could say anything, he raised a placating hand.

“I thought about what I’d leave behind,” said Dean. He quirked a wry smile. “It’s not much, besides my car.”

You frowned in earnest. Your hand flattened against his bare chest.

“That’s not true,” you said. “You have your brother, your father, and your friends. That’s plenty, Dean.”

He conceded that with a nod. “You’re right. But I just started thinking, maybe I want more. Like uh…like what my parents had, when they were happy. The house, each other, me and Sammy…a family.”

You couldn’t be certain in the near total darkness of the room, with only the moonlight filtering through the blinds and casting a glow behind him, but you thought you saw a shine in his eyes. Your hand crept up from beneath the covers to find his cheek. It was rough with stubble, yet you tenderly swept a thumb back and forth.

“I think that’s beautiful,” you replied.

Dean paused. He then huffed in amusement. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, hoping he could see it.

“Then uh, is that something you’d be into?” he asked. You were amused by his tentative approach.

“With you?” You pretended to think. Your fingers slipped into his hair. “Yeah, I think I’m into that.”

He chuckled. “Okay, then. Good to know.”

He grasped your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss into your palm.

And he spoke into the dark. “I love you too, you know.”

Your smile deepened as you rested your head against his arm. You whispered into the small space between your faces.

“Yeah, I’ve got some idea.”

AN: 🥹 All righty, how'd you like that fluff overload?

...Ready for some more drama? 😏

Next Time:

But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.

It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Winchester,” he answered.

“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”

“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”

Keep Reading: PART 16

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#The Good Part #Smoke Eater #Part 15 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #Sam Winchester #eileen leahy #john winchester #zepskies writes

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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 1 year

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I love jack so so much he's perfect but tbh I do think it would've worked much more with the show if he was a destiel baby instead of lucifer's. and I'm not just saying that as a shipper or whatever I mean narratively it would've been a lot cleaner- and actually, I think it would've been super funny to no-homo them creating a baby together, like, literally all they would have to do is say "oh, when cas rebuilt dean after hell he accidentally left some grace tangled in his soul, and every time he's healed him since then it's been growing stronger until a nephilim was born". like yes the studio is homophibic etc etc but all the jokes they'd make about dean being spiritually pregnant would be very funny for me personally.

but ANYWAY, jack's story gets messy and convoluted and I think this would've been like...a simple fix. them worrying about him going dark side could be because they're worried how demon!dean and lucifer!cas affected him in development, the show LOVES bloodline drama, chuck's wanting abraham and issac 2.0 would've worked better this way, dean's storyline with him would be improved, bc rather than 'oh no I slowly but surely emotionally adopted the antichrist' like I think he would've had an easier time clocking his john-behavoir if it wasn't a question whether he was jack's dad or not. plus last time dean actively raised a kid he went to great lengths to keep the supernatural away from him, so it'd be interesting to see how he handles a kid he CANT possibly hide from this part of his life. it would make more sense why michael wanted jack as a vessel- yes obviously he wanted the nephilim power boost but also having him as part of the winchester bloodline, making him a PERFECT vessel he doesn't have to worry about burning up would add a lot. we could also use this argument for why lucifer is so interested in him if anyone actually liked that plotline in season 14 lmao. we know chuck hated cas and dean's relationship, could you imagine if he checked in and found out they made an unauthorized baby together💀 like that really would've given better context for why he hates jack so much. cas wouldn't need that whole weird brainwashing arc to wanna protect unborn jack, PLUS it could've been an interesting source of angst for him- he feels like he's failed once again, creating an abomination and putting dean in danger, but also still loves jack immensely. it'd be so good! also imagine how fucking stressed out heaven would be to find out a mini castiel is on the way. they wouldn't even wanna exploit that kid for power they'd be preemptively treating the headaches they know they're gonna get lmfao.

also. the casting directors literally put jensen and misha into a face morph app and cast the first actor they could find that matched the results. which would've made more sense if,,,,he was just Theirs. the comedy of dean and cas making a baby before either of them managed to admit their feelings to each other would be more fun then the "dude adopted a kid and pawns him off on his unwilling roommate's all the time and they eventually warm up to the kid" storyline we actually got. we also could've replaced some of the jack-dean angst from the show with "dean wants to connect more with jack but he feels shut out whenever cas is around bc he can't relate to any angel stuff so obviously jack's going to cas for help more!", which I think would be interesting!! how AWFUL dean and cas would feel that jack didn't feel safe enough to be a baby. dad!sam is still in full swing but he cares for jack right off the bat instead of trying to use him for his powers at first. lily sunder talking about how cas killed her kid bc he thought it was a nephilim and dean, who's already fully aware he's (spiritually) knocked up by cas is like 👹 inch resting cas-tee-elle tell me more. mary having a 'my baby has a baby' crisis. cas insisting jack looks nothing like him is a running joke but then at some point he explains its bc jack's 'true form' looks just like dean's soul....

ALSO- in a show where, canonically, the very first act of free will was cas falling in love with dean...the physical manifestation of that defeating chuck and taking his place as god? come ON.

#jack kline #destiel #spn #supernatural #deancas #molly mumbles

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sampilled · 3 months

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I think the reason I hate the “dean raised Sam” idea in fandom is because that is just fundamentally not how I view their relationship and ALSO because of how one sided it makes it

Like you know who looks out for dean? Sam. You know who cares whether dean is being safe or throwing himself head first into danger? Sam. You know who worries about dean’s cholesterol and whether he eats his vegetables? SAM

And if you think this is a new development then you just don’t understand teenaged sam like I do. Sam ‘I will burn this whole building to the ground just to make a point’ Winchester. Sam ‘I hate my dad’ Winchester. Sam ‘No sir there are more important things’ Winchester.

Sam was the type of kid to make a whole PowerPoint about the dangers of smoking if he ever saw dean even look at one!!!

And who does dean go to when he has a crisis? Sam!!! That’s literally the main premise of the show. Dean goes to sam when john abandons him

Whose name does dean yell out when he’s trapped in hell in the season 3 finale? Sam’s!!!

Sam is his safe space. The number one person he can trust. The person who always tries to get him to open up about his feelings (even if he’s not the *most* equipped to handle those conversations. He always tries)

I just hate when people try to make it seem like Sam is a burden to dean or just an accessory to dean’s trauma cus at the end of the day that codependency goes *both* ways

#apologies for any spelling mistakes. typing on my phone hurts my eyes so I don’t spell check <3 #sam winchester #I see it as more of a ‘it’s us against the world’ vibe #than a Fiona Gallagher single mom who works two jobs vibe

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shinelikethunder · 1 month

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the family drama and backstory gets a lot of play as being the best part of 1x08 Bugs, but what I don't see people talking about as much is that the punchline of the whole thing is when they're in the car near the end and Dean "Filial Piety" Winchester hears Sam telling that kid very earnestly over the phone "you have to tell your shitty dad the truth about the danger you're all in! just try to get through to him!" and immediately goes "are you crazy? gimme the fucking phone. okay, kiddo, it's time to tell your dad what's known as an 'expedient lie.' how good are you at faking appendicitis?"

like give me all the backstory on Dean learning to "manage" John while Sam was standing up to him, i know that shit went crazy and got toxic as hell

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #bugs #spn s1 #something something winchester family values

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scoobydoodean · 3 months

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Okay btw we are all saying Alastair was lying about torturing John in 4.16 "On The Head Of A Pin" right? Like we all agree he was making shit up don't we.

Where even is John. John escaped out of the Devil's Gate in 2.22. Was his soul forced back into Hell? Because the Winchesters don't know that in 2.22. They never confirm where he went?

SAM Do you think Dad really... do you think he really climbed outta hell? DEAN The door was open. If anyone's stubborn enough to do it... it would be him. SAM Where do you think he is now? DEAN I don't know.

And after the Devil's Gate was closed, all the demons stayed out like The Seven Deadly Sins, so why not spirits that escaped?

And doesn't the fact that John was able to escape out of the Devil's Gate to begin with suggest he wasn't on the rack being tortured?

And why would Alastair torture him for "close to a century" and then stop? The time between John's death and Dean's death is like 2 years. Even if we say he tortured John until John escaped out of the Devil's Gate, wouldn't that be more than "close to half a century"? And why wouldn't they just go find his soul if his soul was that important?

The narrative symmetry of it doesn't work either like it does with salmondean being brothers. John versus Sam is a different story—like Lucifer versus god—not Lucifer versus Michael.

Also like suggestive evidence here:

DEAN Is it true? Did I break the first seal? Did I start all this? CASTIEL Yes. When we discovered Lilith's plan for you, we laid siege to hell and we fought our way to get to you before you—

I mean at the end of the day maybe the angels knew that Dean was supposed to be the one to break and the demons didn't, so the angels didn't act until Dean was in hell. But idk I am just not buying this from the mind games guy and his story is very fishy.

#4.16 #season 4 #alastair #demons lie #angels and demons lie #pk rewatches spn number ?

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octoberclidan · 6 months

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Dances with Team Free Will - Dean

Request: So the boys probably never had the opportunity to go to school dances, right? I mean in that one episode about when Dean was living in that boys' home I think he was about to go to homecoming and then John showed up to pick him up.

So what if reader throws a sort of mini prom/homecoming for each member (separately) of tfw? How would each one react?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Masterlist

Sam's version

Castiel's version

Note: full disclaimer, school dances aren't really a thing in my country, so I don't really know what they're like, but I've done my best!

Story:

"Are you serious?" [Y/N] asked, her mouth open in surprise as she sat opposite the two Winchester brothers. They were in the kitchen of the bunker, having just arrived home from a successful and short ghost hunt.

"I came close to going to one once. But then Dad showed up and it was time to move on", Dean shrugged as he took a sip from his beer.

"Yeah, they weren't really high up on the list of Dad's priorities", Sam said. "We usually went to school and then came straight home, didn't really get involved in anything else, or unnecessary, as he said".

"Didn't help to get to involved anyway, made it harder to move on. We never stayed in one school for long", Dean added. "I don't think I would've liked it anyway, they seem kinda lame".

"That's so sad", [Y/N] shook her head, imagining a younger version of Dean getting all dressed up and ready to go to a normal school dance, imagining him feeling nervous and excited, just for John to show up and put an end to it.

"Hey", Dean pointed his beer bottle at her. "Don't pity us," he took another sip before smirking at her. "You got any pictures from your school dances?" Sam sat up straight at Dean's question, now much more interested in this topic of conversation. They both looked at her expectantly as her eyes widened slightly.

"There is no way in hell I am showing you any photos from my teenage years, no, forget it". She shook her head head and stood up from the table, both of them feigning exaggerated looks of hurt and disappointment. "I'm gonna go have a shower and then go to bed, I'll see you both in the morning". She rolled her eyes at them but made sure to give them a smile before leaving the kitchen and making her way to the showers, leaving them sniggering to themselves.

***

She spent her time in the shower wondering about what Dean would have been like in high school. Neither of the boys really talked about their childhoods much. She knew that Dean was four and that Sam was just a baby when Mary died and when John had taken them out onto the road. She knew that Dean practically raised Sam and that they both started hunting much younger than they should have. She didn't know what their day to day lives had been like though. She wondered if Dean ever did his homework, if he had had been as confident and charming as he was now, back then. She wondered what his teachers thought of him, or how well he did with exams. She wondered if he'd ever had to deal with weird stages of growth spurts, his voice breaking, acne, being rejected by the girls he'd asked out. She wondered if he'd ever had friends in school, or if he kept himself separate from his classmates.

After she'd wrapped herself up in a towel, she made her way to her bedroom. She paused as her door came into view; it was ajar and the light was on. She definitely hadn't left the light on or the door open earlier, so she slowly walked towards it, carefully pushing the door open further. Her mouth dropped when she found Dean sitting on her bed, her old box of childhood belongings open and photographs scattered all over the bed, two of them in Dean's hands. His head snapped up to see her and he immediately looked like a guilty child who'd been caught stealing a cookie after been told he was allowed to have any. "Dean Winchester", she frowned at him. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"

"I uh, I guess I lost track of time", he smiled sheepishly at her and shrugged, but made no move to put the photos down. "Do you think you could've fit any more bracelets on your arm?"

"Give me that", she marched over, still using one hand to keep her towel secure around her, and snatched the photos out of his hands with her other. She glanced down to see what he was looking at and groaned. There she was, fifteen years old, when she didn't know there was such a thing as 'too many accessories'. She glared at him as she shoved them back into the box and quickly started to gather up the rest. "It was fashionable at the time", she mumbled.

"I'm sure it was", he chuckled.

"These are private, Dean", she sighed. She knew she'd probably find it funny in the morning, but in that moment she was annoyed at him. When he saw that she wasn't smiling, he was quick to drop his own smile, and he reached for her arm.

"Hey, hey I'm sorry. I was just curious to see what you were like back then, I didn't mean to embarass you", she didn't look back at him as she placed the lid on the box and shoved it back onto the corner of her desk where he'd found it. "Tell me how I can make it up to you", he said before she turned back around. A smile crept across her face and she slowly turned around. Once Dean saw the look on her face he instantly regretted what he'd just offered. "Within reason", he quickly added.

"Go get changed into your FBI suit and meet me in the Dean Cave in an hour", she folded her arms across her towel, waiting for his response.

"Why?"

"No questions. This is how you make it up to me, now go".

Dean begrudgingly stood up from the bed and gave her a suspicious look as he left her room, closing the door behind him. Once he was gone, she immediately got to work.

***

She'd managed to get dressed quickly, throwing on a dress she'd bought for a case where they had to go to a fancy party. She'd put on some light makeup and had dried her hair, putting it up to make herself look a bit more dressed up. She had then done her best to 'decorate' the Dean Cave, which really just consisted of putting up some of the less 'Christmassy' Christmas decorations that she'd found in the bunker before, like some old gold and silver tinsel, and hanging up a bit of mistletoe. Dean kept a record player in the corner of the room, and she turned it on to fill the room with music. She turned the lights down low just before there was a knock on the door. She walked over and opened the door, looking up to find Dean looking down at her, looking handsome as usual in his suit. He took a step back and looked her up and down before catching her eyes again and raising an eyebrow at her. "Wanna tell me what we're doing?" She smiled but didn't answer, instead holding out her hand for him. Hesitating slightly, but deciding not to ask again, he took her hand and let her pull him into the room.

She kept her eyes on his face as he looked around the room, taking everything in. She watched as the light reflecting from the tinsel sparkled in his eyes, and the crinkles of the sides of his eyes made an appearance as he chuckled. He looked down at her in amusement, about to poke fun at her, but he stopped himself when he saw how she was trying to hold in her excitement. "Do you like it?" She asked him, and he suddenly saw a sliver of that fifteen year old girl in the photo he'd found earlier.

"Shouldn't we be dancing?" He smiled at her and pulled her hand up to his shoulder. She quickly reached her other hand up to his other shoulder, and he placed his hands on her waist as they began to sway to the music as a soft, slower song played. "So this is what your school dances were like, huh?"

"Not exactly", she giggled, "they were usually in a much bigger hall, with a lot more people, adult supervision, and much, much better decorations".

"I dunno", Dean said as they slowly danced in circles around the room. "I'm a fan of these decorations". He stopped moving and started to sway them side to side in one spot, smirking as he glanced up above them. She followed his line of sight and blushed as she realised he'd spotted the mistletoe and had been working on dancing them over to it. His hands lowered to her hips and he pulled her closer. "Is mistletoe a common decoration at school dances?"

"Not exactly", she looked back to his face to find that his eyes were focused on hers. He glanced down to her lips briefly before she spoke again. "We don't exactly have a lot of party decorations lying around".

"Mmm", he mumbled in agreement, not really paying attention to anything other than how beautiful she looked in her dress, and thinking about how lucky he was to have someone in his life who wanted to do stuff like this for him. He'd always been so focused on making sure that Sam had as many normal experiences as possible, he wasn't used to someone doing the same for him. In this moment, he wasn't a hunter, Heaven and Hell and angels and demons were nowhere close to his thoughts. In this moment he was just a guy dancing with a girl he liked, and he was hoping she'd hung up the mistletoe as a hint as he took his chance.

He leaned down before he could change his mind, and pressed his lips to hers. She immediately closed her eyes as her hands moved from his shoulders to the back of his neck. He pulled back to gauge her reaction and she opened her eyes. "Was that okay?" He felt like a teenager who'd just had his very first kiss. He felt weirdly nervous, like her response meant more than anything. She smiled and him and nodded.

"More than okay", she pulled him back down for another kiss and he slid his hands back to rest just above her ass as she carded her fingers through his hair. They continued to sway to the music as Dean slipped his tongue out and [Y/N] opened her mouth to him, deepening the kiss. They made out for awhile, moving their hands to feel each other's shoulders, face, neck, hair, waist, and arms as the music played through several different songs. Finally, [Y/N] pulled away with a sigh and leaned her head on Dean's chest, listening to his heartbeat. He held her head firmly against his chest and rested his chin on top of her head.

"Thank you", he whispered, only just audible above the music. "This definitely wasn't lame".

The end

Sam's version

Castiel's version

Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @angelwiththeshotgun @pizzagirlxnsfwx

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loving-family-poll · 4 months

Text

Ultimate Incest Tournament - Round 2

Propaganda under the cut:

Amma/Camille:

The sexual and romantic overtones in both the book and the TV show are deliciously disturbing and creepy. They love each other so much, and it is horrible

amma and camille literally kissed with tongue and camille loves her so much she's worried she'll hurt her. THEY SLEEP IN THE SAME BED BECAUSE SHE BEGGED HER TO.

Amma canonically refers to her as her soulmate. They KISSED.

Dean/John:

when a son becomes his mother to comfort and support his dad, sometimes it’s normal and fine (i guess). this is not one of these times. twelve years after his father’s death he still can’t speak ill of him. he can’t even escape him in heaven

dean is john's sonwife whom he exploits sexually and has given him a wedding ring and a cloak. he puts dean through military bootcamp while he also raises their son, sam. john dies and goes to hell for him. dean is in love with john

As close to canon as possible on the CW. Dean's issues with his father run deep, and the effects of their relationship are explored all throughout the show. More than one character seemed to have picked up on the incestuous and abusive nature of their relationship. But the abuse of power does not erase Dean's fierce love and devotion for his father, which is terribly sad and thrilling to witness

https://www.tumblr.com/egipci/705080358900809728/dean-he-never-hit-me-except-for-the-time-sam-ran?source=share

#tournament polls #tumblr polls #incest poll #amma/camille #sharp objects #deanjohn #supernatural #spn #round 2 #tw incest

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