and he does it because he would never let dean down

Our Little Secret-Part One

Summary: After a hunt and quite a few drinks the boys learn that you aren’t as ‘experienced’ in one department as they thought you were. Dean thinks he can rectify that

Series Masterlist

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Square Filled/Kink: Oral Fixation for @spnkinkbingo

Word Count: 4700

Warnings: Smut, oral (male and female receiving), insecure reader, language

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. This is the first part of what I hope is a lengthy and smutty series. Any feedback is always appreciated. This is also for @emilywritesaboutdean and @wheresthekillswitch ‘s Do It Like TFW Challenge (The gif is near the bottom)

A thank you to my beta @ayeronda for betaing at an ungodly hour and being so wonderful.


It’s been a long ass day and an even longer hunt. You were more than happy to be sitting on Dean’s bed in the boys’ motel room, sipping on your second, or maybe it is the third beer. And that was just here, it wasn’t counting the four or five shots you had had down at the bar. So now you were here and Sam was riding Dean hard about his strikeout at the bar.

“Dude, you were never going home with her.”

“She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.”

You can’t help but chuckle, “What? Two whole minutes?”

Keep reading

Destiel, Bi!Dean and preparing the audience for a “shocker”.

I just did a re-watch of 12x10 and it really got me thinking again about Benjamin and Cas’s talk in the car with the boys about Benjamin and his female vessel.

At the time the episode aired, I think I was so excited about the prospect of Cas being in a female vessel, and how this could potentially shift a heteronormative audiences perception of Dean and Cas that I didn’t realise just what else they were trying to do.

This is about reassurance.

This is the conversation that was had in the car:

CAS: Benjamin is always very careful. Long ago, he found a powerfully devout vessel in Madrid, and her faith, it… she gave him everything – her trust and her body.

DEAN: Wait. So Benjamin’s a woman?

CAS: Benjamin is an angel. His vessel is a woman. But it – it’s – it’s more than that. She’s not just his vessel.

Just this small exchange is important as exposition for the audience. It is about preparing the audience for what is coming up. The idea that Cas was also once ‘a woman’. Which, okay, no he wasn’t a woman, he just had a female vessel, but imagine how that would have gone down had this exchange not taken place? Imagine how a general audience would have reacted to Cas and his female vessel had Benjamin just been another angel in a male vessel?

Probably a lot like the way Dean acted here, with confusion.

By giving us the Benjamin character and this particular scene as well, the writer has successfully prepared the audience for Cas in his female vessel. Preventing raised eyebrows and confusion because the audience will remember this conversation and apply it to Cas.

“Castiel is an angel, his vessel WAS a woman. His vessel is now a man, Cas is still a dude and it’s not weird. Cool beans.”

(when I think of a general audience watching SPN lets just say that I certainly don’t think of the fandom or tumblr. I think of my brother and that is something I won’t get into here. Heteronormative doesn’t even begin to cover it.)

The fact is, making one of your three main lead male characters a woman for an episode is a weird thing to do, the kind of thing that would probably make some audience members uncomfortable. So adding in this exposition, this reassurance, removes that level of discomfort, it gets them used to the idea first, like a buffer.

See for a show like SPN, whilst its always been a bit weird with its story lines, it’s never been all that progressive. As much as we would all like to wish that all SPN viewers were like us – liberal forward thinking people who are willing and eager for TV to break a few taboos – the chances are that is very much not the case. Its an old show, it has an established audience (apparently a bipartisan audience amazingly) and therefore breaking boundaries the way more modern shows have (such as American Gods, How to Get Away with Murder and Orange is the New Black) just isn’t really in the cards. Those shows established the taboo stories, the queer main characters, the representation, from the start. They built their audience on those foundations. SPN can’t do that without isolating part of its audience – unless it thinks very carefully as to how it may present such notions.

I hope I am explaining this in a way that makes sense. See this is of course about Bi!Dean and Destiel (as if anything on my blog WASN’T about those topics). Because here’s the thing. On any other, newer show, for Dean to come out as bisexual, for two male lead characters to enter into a homosexual relationship, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Those shows could build their audience around those concepts, because they would be ingrained into the show from the start.

For Supernatural, that sadly isn’t the case. SPN didn’t clearly establish Dean as Bisexual early on, and Destiel isn’t canon, it has always been the subject to interpretation with just enough ‘no homo’ so that anyone who chooses not to see it doesn’t have to (again, excluding 12x19 but we’ll get there)

One of the biggest hurdles to getting bi!dean and canon destiel, is for the SPN creators to overcome this fear that half their audience would reject them if they actually went there. It would be seen as coming ‘out of the blue’ and all those heteronormative people would raise their eyebrows and moan and be utterly confused by it.

That’s why Supernatural needs the buffers. It needs the gradual exposition, the subtle desensitisation of a general audience to anything even mildly “progressive”. If Supernatural wasn’t putting these buffers in place already, I would think we would have a problem. I would be much more apprehensive at even the idea that destiel could be a thing that is actually happening.

What is so fantastic, is that just like in 12x10 with the fem!Cas buffer that was Benjamin, we have already been getting buffers all throughout the last few seasons.

Here are some of my favourites:

  • Jesse x Cesar – 11x19 – These guys are my absolute favourite, they were created specifically to show the audience that you can be a gay man and also a macho man. That gay men aren’t stereotypes, that hunters can be gay and settle down and especially that gay romance doesn’t change the theme of the story. The big take away from this episode is that it shows the general audience that men like Dean Winchester can be gay/bisexual.
  • Hannah – 10x17 – This was a real eye opener for any Cas x Hannah shippers. Because Cas didn’t treat Hannah any different, and he had exactly the same warmth and affection for Hannah in her male vessel that he did in her female vessel. Basically this was a nice punch in the face for any homophobes watching. SPN doesn’t care about your heteronormative ships. You wanna ship Hannah x Cas? Fine! But Hannah’s in a dudes body now and guess what? Cas doesn’t care! How do you feel about THAT?
  • God is Bisexual – 11x20 – This was just a nice big fuck you to homophobes everywhere. Don’t like queer characters? This is NOT the show for you! Because in our world even GOD is queer! Yay for LGBT representation! It works as a buffer because once again it is sending a message to the general audience that this is the kind of thing you can expect on our show. We are changed now.
  • Dean rides Larry – 12x11 – Okay so maybe it’s not an obvious buffer, but it is kind of a subliminal message so I’m counting it. Dean riding that damn bull was the most sexual scene we have had on this show in seasons (and no that god awful thing that happened in 12x02 doesn’t count – nor does the same god awful thing from 12x08). The jokes alone, the sexual innuendos. This entire episode is loaded with subliminal messages basically screaming at the general audience to maybe just consider the fact that Dean likes guys.
  • 12x06/12x20 – Max Banes – like Jesse and Cesar Max works as a buffer because he is another way to get the general audience used to the idea that characters that are similar to Dean Winchester can be queer and it’s no big deal. Max is badass, funny, smart and charming and also 100% canonically queer (whether gay or bi we know textually that he is totally into dudes). Sam and Dean don’t bat an eyelid at his sexuality, so neither should the audience. It is just one part of his character and certainly not what his story is all about. Max is proof that you can have a queer character who is a badass and a hunter whose story is basically nothing to do with their sexuality. Their sexuality just happens to be a part of who they are.
  • And finally – Destiel – season 12 – I’m making this its own buffer because honestly? There is no way to view Dean and Cas’s relationship as non-romantic at this point. I think that the writers have slowly been turning up the dial on Destiel probably since 11x18. 12x19 really drummed it in for us though. The angel/human love themes of 12x10, the textual “I love you” in 12x12, the MIXTAPE and everything else about 12x19. This is all preparation. It is indeed a build up to a reveal. Destiel is it’s own buffer and even if people do still accuse it of ‘coming out of nowhere’ once it goes canon, all the writers have to do is gesture at season 12 and the fucking mixtape scene and say to those people “in what universe does the gifting of a mixtape between people who are not explicitly related NOT have romantic connotations?” Only a fool would argue with that if they had any knowledge of pop culture history. Sorry, but that’s the truth.

Anyway, that’s my thoughts on that. A show with a long established audience about to make a move that could potentially appear (but not really) out of left field would need to build up that move through a series of well thought out buffers, symbols, themes and subliminal messages before actually making it.

Like how Benjamin was the writers way of normalising Cas’s female vessel, the past two seasons have been a journey to normalise bi!dean and destiel in preparation for making both of these things explicitly canon. Yes we still have a way to go - it still needs to be stated explicitly in the text that Dean is into guys, in love with Cas bla bla bla, but we are getting there.

In summary. Destiel is endgame. Dean is bisexual. The general audience better learn to throw their heteronormative goggles in the bin because this is the state of this show right now, and it is good. 

Lazy

Summary: Pure porn without plot. You wake up and spend a morning with Sam and Dean.

Warnings: Smut, threesome (no Wincest), anal sex

Word Count: 2650ish

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy! XOXO

Too hot. Too bright. Everything feels heavy and suffocating, like you’re trapped or tied down. Leg muscles twitch, but you can’t move them as you force your brain to swim toward the surface, try to break your mind out of its haze.

And then you wake up.

For just a moment, you focus only on your breath. You wake up like this two or three times a week, have ever since you started hunting, and it will only take your body a few seconds to calm down.

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Request: Storm

Request: Can you write one where the reader breaks down to Bobby because she is pregnant with Dean’s baby. Thank you :)

Word Count: 1,069

<3

The rain has been coming down in buckets all night, and the wind whips at the sides of the house in such a way that every now and again, the foundations shake so severely that Bobby nearly ends up waiting out the storm in the panic room.

When he sees the flash of light outside the window followed by a rumble, he isn’t paying enough attention to think of it as anything but another facet of the storm. What he does pay attention to, however, is the frantic, loud knocking that reverberates well beyond the door.

The knocking doesn’t stop until he answers, pulling the door open to be bet with a harsh gust of wind.

“Y/N?” You’re soaked and dishevelled, and he isn’t sure which has smeared your makeup more – the rain, or the tears you’re trying and failing to hold back.

“Can- can I come in?” It’s a stupid question, but it’s the only thing your fuzzy, addled brain can come up with. Bobby doesn’t speak, but he nods, ushering you into the warmth of the house where you grew up and forcing the door closed against the wind.

“What the hell are you doing out in this?” Driving in this weather would be dangerous enough without you being in a complete state. You don’t reply, though, shivering in the hallway and wiping at your face in frustration. It scares him – you’re the closest thing he has to family: he’d raised you since you were six months old and your parents had been killed, leaving no-one to keep an eye on their demon-blood infected child. He’d taken you in, and found that he’d quickly become all too fond of you.

“Y/N, seriously. Where are Sam and Dean?” It must be something to do with them, because it elicits a sob from you, “I don’t want to play twenty questions with you.” He steps forward, resting his hands on your shoulders and pressing an affectionate kiss to your forehead, “Give yourself some time, alright? Go get a shower, get changed. Everything’s fine. Nothing is going to hurt you while you’re here. I’ll make you a hot chocolate while you’re gone, just how you like it. How does that sound?”

To his eternal relief, that manages to get a nod and a weak smile from you, and he pulls you in for a gentle hug before letting you go. He doesn’t look away from you until you’re safely up the stairs, and then sighs to himself – he’s never seen you like this. But you need him, and he’ll be damned if you’re not going to have him to go to.

***

It’s nearly half an hour before he hears you coming down the stairs, but there’s nothing wrong with that – especially when he sees how much better you’re looking. Sure, your eyes are still red-rimmed and you’re still shaking with the effort it takes not to cry, but at least your clothes are warm and dry and your lips are no longer bluish with the cold.

You shuffle into the room and take a seat, swallowing hard before looking up at Bobby. He sets the hot chocolate – piled high with cream, chocolate shavings, and marshmallows – in front of you, and then takes the seat next to yours. The storm outside still batters the windows, but the kitchen is warm, and with the pair of you bathed in warm light, it’s almost cosy.

“Talk to me.” Bobby prompts softly, reaching over and resting his hand over the top of yours. He sees the way you flinch at the gesture, and for a moment he thinks the worst, “Is it Dean? Has he hurt you?” He hadn’t been overly happy when you’d begun dating the eldest Winchester two and a half years ago, but you’d been happy, and Dean had given him a heartfelt promise that his intentions were pure – but Bobby had promised in return that the moment Dean so much as breathed the wrong way at you, he’d find himself without the means to do so again.

“Y/N, sweetheart, I need you to talk to me if you want to fix this.”

“I can’t fix it.” You speak properly for the first time since you stepped into the house, “It’s broken. Very broken.”

“Still with the ambiguous, sweetheart.”

It takes you a few moments to muster up the courage to come out with it, but eventually, you do.

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence, apart from the sounds of the storm outside, fills the room. For a long moment, he can’t find it in himself to speak – and then…

“Do not drink that.” He wraps his spare hand around the mug and slides it away from you, reminded suddenly of the copious amount of whiskey he just dropped into that, “Is it… it’s Dean’s?”

You scoff, “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Of course it is.” Sorrow and bitterness taint your tone in equal measure, and Bobby winces.

“Have you told him?” He tries, and you nod again.

“Yeah. That’s what the second problem is.” You sigh, pulling your hand away from his in order to run your hands over your face, skilfully masking a sob – but not enough. Bobby knows you inside and out, and picks up on it instantly.

“He reacted badly?”

“If saying I’d ruined everything and needed to get the hell out of his sight is reacting badly, then I’d say so, yeah.” You spit, but your voice breaks and before you know it, your head is on his shoulder and you’re sobbing openly into him, everything coming out. He holds onto you tightly, a silent promise that he’ll never let you go; that you always have him.

***

It’s nearly three hours later, by the time he’s managed to calm you down and get you asleep. You’re still asleep on the sofa when his phone rings. He answers, begrudgingly, when he realises who it is.

“Dean?”

“Bobby? Have you heard from Y/N? She’s gone and we’ve been trying to track her all night, but we haven’t found anything.” He rattles off, his voice frantic and shaking.

“Why? What happened?” Bobby asks, watching you sleeping form.

“We got in a fight. I said something stupid. God, Bobby, I’ll never forgive myself if she doesn’t…” He cuts himself off, and swallows hard, “Have you heard from her?”

He pauses, “Nope. Nothing. I’ll let you know if I do.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

Whiteboard. Destiel, canon!verse, 1.3k. 
When you fail to say the words, there’s always the option to write it down.

For a while now, there has been a whiteboard in Dean’s room.

Cas often sees Dean use it; to organize clues for cases that he and Sam can’t quite solve, and to write down reminders, or to simply rearrange his thoughts. And, on rare occasions, to draw silly doodles to help him get his mind off of whatever supernatural disaster is next on the agenda.

Currently, aforementioned board is empty though, and Cas stares a hole in it, sitting on Dean’s bed, arms wrapped around his knees, his chin resting on his hands. Dean is there too, right beside him, lying on the other side of the bed, his back to Castiel, his shoulders tense. There might as well be some sort of invisible wall between them, and Cas absolutely hates it. Hates it whenever they fight like this, and what makes it even worse is that Dean refuses to talk. Whenever they have an argument he’ll snap at Castiel, once maybe twice, but after that, it’s usually the silent treatment.

And it makes Castiel feel powerless every time, because how can you fix something when you don’t even get a chance to plead your case?

Dean isn’t sleeping, Cas can tell from his breathing, harsh and uneven. Which must mean that Dean doesn’t like this either, and just like that, inspiration strikes.

“Dean?” Cas mutters quietly, but not unkindly.

A grunt from the other side of the bed.

“I know you’re angry, I know you’d rather not talk, but I thought that maybe…” Castiel pauses, trying to figure out which words to choose. “I thought that maybe we could write it down.”

There’s a huff from Dean, and Cas doesn’t know what to make of that, but he refuses to give up now. Slowly, he gets up from the bed, shuffling towards the whiteboard. He picks up one of the markers, a blue one, and starts writing.

He hears Dean move on the bed, probably getting up as well, and that’s what Cas had been counting on; Dean’s curiosity getting the best of him.

When Cas is done he puts down the marker, his eyes scanning the message one last time.

‘I apologize for what I did yesterday, I’m sorry I went after those rogue angels by myself without telling you. I didn’t want you to get dragged into my problems, and I feared it wasn’t safe for you to come with me. Which you would have, had I told you before I left.’

He hears a muffled sigh behind him, and he’s surprised to see Dean already standing right there. Dean rolls his eyes as he reads the message, but his face relaxes, and the green of his eyes is softer now. After a long moment, he theatrically picks up a marker as well, the green one, giving Castiel that face that says 'do we really have to do this?’

But Dean does it anyway, and writes a reply, the Dean Winchester way that Cas knows so well.

'I want you to drag me into your problems, you idiot, it’s not like I don’t drag you into mine. PS: you forgot to apologize for the part where you almost got killed. PPS: fine, apology accepted. Don’t ever do that again.’

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Hexed

Characters:  Dean x Reader, Sam

Summary:  Reader and Dean are…you guessed it…hexed.  Is it a sexual curse or something more?

Word Count:  2111

Warnings:  Lots of language, lots of smut (rough-ish smut)

As always, feedback is appreciated.  Tags are at the bottom.

Originally posted by holy-fucking-damn-shit

Hexed 

There is a time and place for everything, this is neither the time nor the place. Not for Dean to be looking at me like that, no sir. Had I always hoped he’d fix those ethereal green eyes on me that way? My mama didn’t raise a liar, so I’m not going to lie to you. Yeah, I want that man to fix those eyes on me just like that. Wanted him to for a long time now. There’s a lot of things I want from Dean Winchester.  That man is a walking wet dream, sex on bow-legs.

Things is, he’s not supposed to be looking at me like that. Sure as hell not right this very minute.  It’s not part of the plan. We’re working a fucking case for god’s sake. I’m not talking about research or footwork, interviewing and investigating. We are legitimately standing in this room right the fuck now and a motherfucking witch was just here with us. There is a blade in my hand and a gun in his. We had a job to do, one goddamn job.

Now that bitch of a witch is gone. Poof, vanished, adios amigos, just fucking gone. She mumbled some shifty spell work and now Dean fucking Winchester is looking like he wants to screw my brains out.

I’m looking right back at him and I got the same look in my eye.  

I don’t know what that piece of shit did to us, but my breasts are heavy, achy. My nipples are straining against the fabric of my bra and if somebody doesn’t touch them right this very instant and relieve that pressure, I’m going to scream. Or come. I don’t know which.  

There’s a burning in between my thighs, I’m squeezing them together hoping to ease some of the pressure but it’s only making it worse. Times infinity. My skin is all heat and fire, I’m consumed by need and lust.

Dean is a mirror, his eyes reflect back at me the same fever I’m feeling. I can see his cock - Jesus fucking Christ - swelling and straining against those blue denim jeans. In three short steps his crossed the room, a strangled sound leaving his lips before his lips press to mine. Our weapons clatter to the ground making one hell of a racket, but I give no fucks.

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You’re Not Dad

A/N: Not that anyone cares I’ve been hella busy and haven’t had time to literally write anything and I still really don’t, but I’m going to anyways bc I have some inspiration. Enjoy. Feedback is always appreciated(:

Characters: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, overprotective Dean, mention of death, yelling, very close relationship b/w Dean and reader? let me know if I missed anything

Tagging: @winchesters-favorite-girl because I think she might be interested and I really love and look up to her as a writer. I hope you don’t mind.

Originally posted by canonspngifs

Originally posted by zest-wincest

You loved your brothers more than anything in the world. I mean, you were practically raised by them. John was never around, your mom was just some quick fuck that John had on a hunt. As soon as demons got word that John Winchester knocked up some chick and he had another child, they came and killed your mother when you were only a few months old. Thankfully, your mom got John on the phone as they were trying to get in and he was in town so he saved you. Not your mom though. Dean had been 16 at the time, Sam was 12. You were by far the baby of the family and Sam and Dean made it their mission to protect you from everything. And when I say everything, I mean literally everything. You were never even supposed to have been born. But nevertheless, here you were seventeen years later, alive and kicking, living in the bunker with Sam and Dean, the two best brothers in the entire world.

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Imagine demon!Dean beating a guy up to death because he touched you and he got jealous.

“She’s pretty.” you said softly, trying to hold back the hint of bitterness and pain in your voice. Or jealousy for that matter. You couldn’t blame her, who knew with how many women Dean had been with ever since he became a demon.

“And probably his type. But it shouldn’t bother you now, should it chipmunk?” Crowley raised an eyebrow as the both of you didn’t take your eyes off of the demon playing darts as the blonde waitress gave him another drink with a rather flirtysmile might you say.

“Not now, not ever.” Crowley finally turned to look at you “You are not his girlfriend, (Y/n). Never been, yet you are bothered so much by this. I wonder why.”

You scoffed, turning to glare at him “As if you don’t know. Dean is probably the most oblivious man in the world but you never were Crowley. Why would you use this stupid nickname on me if you didn’t?”

“Guilty.” he flashed you a smile, downing his drink “But he’s no longer the man that you remember, love.”

“Right, so that’s why you wanted me here?” you scoffed “And don’t you dare deny it to me Crowley. You didn’t even blink in surprise when you saw me. You’re letting yourself get caught and sooner or later Sam will come walking in as well.”

“I must admit- the only thing that did surprise me was the fact that moose didn’t come in right after you.” he shrugged “But probably- it’s time to finally put him on track-” he looked at Dean “And make him realize how little he is leaving for just how much.”

“Hell? Oh wow, yes Crowley that really is everyone’s dream kingdom.”

“It is one, nonetheless.” he winked at you and before you could say a thing he had vanished right in front of your eyes. You scoffed at him but didn’t have the chance to question him when you turned your head and your eyes locked with his green ones. And just like always they made your heart skip a beat. Because maybe you were always friends but your love for him was undying.

You held your breath as he set his glass down and raised an eyebrow at you. He said nothing to the rest of them men he was playing with and casually strode towards you “(Y/n)” his voice was as rough but a lot more cold “Fancy seeing you here.” and the smirk on his face made it all worse.

“Is it?” you asked in a low voice and his smile dropped.

“What do you want here?” he asked serious.

“Oh so Crowley didn’t tell you?” you scoffed a laugh “He knew I was on your tracks with Sam, he should be here very soon. I managed to get a lead and thought if I could convince you to come back without him having to hurt himself but… I don’t think there is a point in trying.”

“I told you to stay away.” he shrugged casually, stuffing his hands in his pockets “Not my fault you don’t listen.

“You told Sam to let you go, not me. And I thought there was a chance here but- I was wrong obviously. I’m curious how you didn’t see this coming, or even more that Crowley didn’t speak to you about his plans. Whatever those may be. What happened? Don’t you guys tell everything? Oh no, don’t Dean, secrets are bad, they ruin relationships. We know it better than anyone.” you went from sarcastic to completely serious.

He scoffed, putting on a smirk on his face and rolling his eyes “Don’t care what his game is, I am not his toy. I have my own plans and I’m glad that… he made it easier for me.” he looked

“What do you mean?” you frowned when you noticed the predatory smile on his face “Made it easier by letting me find you?”

“I’ll let you know soon, now follow me and let’s out of here. You’re drawing too much fucking attention with those shorts.” he took hold of your arm, dragging you up as he glared at a few men behind you that had been sneaking looks at you.

“Like hell.” you hissed, snatching your arm from his “Why does it even matter to you? Especially now, I am nothing to you. So what if they look? I am free, Dean, hell they can even touch as much as they want to.” you said angrily.

His eyes darkened as he looked “Let’s go. Now.” he said in a low almost growl but you weren’t having any of it.

“Why?” you scoffed a laugh “So that you can kill me now? Or so that she doesn’t see us talking?” you motioned with your head to the blonde that already had her eyes on you. You tried so hard not to show how much this was hurting you.

“She has nothing to do with this. Come on.” he tugged, holding your hand again.

“Right, of course she doesn’t.” you scoffed “With how many have you been exactly all these months?”

“You’d want to know, wouldn’t you?” a satisfied smirk was on his face.

You didn’t have the chance to speak though because another voice spoke up “Is everything alright?” it was a guy you had seen checking you out ever since you came in.

“Yes, everything’s fine actually. My friend here was just leaving.” you gave Dean a look “How about you buy me a drink and we can talk?” you gave him a smile that made his grin widen.

“Yes, of course sweet cheeks.” he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“You’re gonna lose that hand buddy.” Dean growled, and you both stopped before you could leave.

“Excuse me?” he raised an eyebrow “Did you just threaten me?”

“No, I was giving you a friendly warning.” Dean shrugged with a casual smile.

“Yeah, right.” he scoffed, arm tightening on your waist just to mock the demon and for a second you got scared when Dean’s smile completely fell.

“But you obviously don’t listen very well.” he scoffed and before you could realize it he had grabbed the man by the collarof his shirt and pinned him against a pillar.

“And now- you get to see what I mean when I say that you shouldn’t have done that.” and even if you expected it you jumped when he threw a powerful punch at the man. And the another, and another and another without letting him do a single move. You were almost scared for his life when you saw the mark on Dean’s arm burn that angry red as he kept hitting the guy, blood covering his fist and groans and moans of pain filling the bar along with hushed whispers from other customers.

“Fucking asshole, think you could ever have a piece of that?” he scoffed a laugh, punching more “In your dreams!” another punch “She’s too pure and perfect for a bloody jackass like you. You would never stand a fucking chance.” he growled, punching him more.

You could barely make out any of the things he said after that as the sounds were too much to handle. People shouting, some cheering and encouraging him to keep going. And then you heard her.

“Dean, stop!” she screamed but he didn’t listen to her, as he kept punching with groans himself “Stop! You’re gonna kill him!” she screamed but it didn’t seem to have a single effect on him at the moment.

“Would serve him fucking right.” Dean growled, grabbing his bloody face and making the guy look at you “Do you see that? Do you see her?” he said through gritted teeth “She’s great isn’t she? And you’d really want a piece of her tonight but that would be it. You had some gruesome thoughts for her after that though, didn’t you?” he turned his head to look at Dean “Didn’t you?” he roared and he gave him a weak nod.

“Just like I thought.” Dean smirked “For the first, I’d really just break your hand and maybe face. But for this-” he looked at him darkly and your breath got caught in your throat. If he killed him right there in front of so many people he’d draw all the wrong attention.

“Dean!” you screamed “No, no don’t!” you exclaimed and as surprising as it was for everyone, it caught his attention and he glanced at you over your shoulder. You looked at him with wide eyes, shaking your head in fear.

“Seems like your lucky day, bastard.” he growled “You’re very damn lucky that she can have this effect on me because trust me your death… it would have not been easy. And she would never give you a single glance because you know why?” he smirked in an almost sinister way “Oh you know why.” he laughed, pushing him to the side and he fell on the floor. He looked down at him for a second, smirking before with a roll of his eyes he turned around and looked at the rest of the customers.

He didn’t say a think, he only scoffed at them and walked towards you.

“D” you found yourself whispering as you stared at him with wide eyes “You would have-”

“I should have.” he growled “Hope you fucking understand I am not playing games here, (Y/n).” he grabbed your jaw with one hand and your heart leapt to your throat when he brought his face closer to yours, your lips only an inch away. You knew what he wanted to do but he stopped himself, looking from your lips up to your eyes. He smiled slightly, running his thumb over your lower lip.

“You are mine, and I’ll make sure everybody knows it from now on.” he said in a low rough voice and you frowned. You knew in what way he meant it, you were no fool with what he had almost done but it still confused you. You were always friends and on top of that even if he didn’t care at the moment as a demon… what really held him back from forcing a kiss out of you? IT felt as if for a moment you saw your own Dean flash through his eyes.

“Only. Mine.” he said in a husky voice in your ear and you felt shivers run down your spine when his teeth grazed over it “I’ll wait in the car.” he added and let go of you, almost leaving you to try to recover from the shock.

But you only had another one coming once he’d left and the waitress spoke to you “You are (Y/n)?”

“Why-” your voice was hoarse as you looked at her “You know me?” and the look on her face only said yes, making you realize there was only person that could have spoken about you to her.

Dean. But the real question was why?

Writing is Hard, pt 8: Slow and Steady

Summary: Dean shows you his favorite kind of sex.

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Warning: Smut, dirty talk

Word Count: 3100ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry, tag list is closed!) XOXO

The motel door opens quietly and you hear Dean shuffle in, his footsteps easy to recognize. You don’t move, body too exhausted to even roll over in bed and say hi.

Sam has to know that Dean comes to your room every night now. Actually, Dean just goes straight in with you now more often than not, leaving Sam to himself. You’ve never discussed it, but you suspect that Sam’s silence on the matter of you and Dean is his thank you for finally having some privacy on a regular basis.

Either way, you aren’t remotely surprised that Dean is here. You listen to boots being kicked off, a gun being placed on the night stand, and clothes being shuffled off. He’s down to his boxers when he slides beneath the covers.

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The Tea is Decaf

[ao3]

3.7k words
Dean/Cas, Sam/Eileen
Based on this text post

Castiel just barely slips out the door into the hallway and turns the knob as he closes it so the latch doesn’t make a sound. The light is always on in the hallway, and Dean always wakes up if too much of it pours into his room, so Castiel has mastered the art of slipping through the smallest space possible.

He breathes a sigh of relief once he’s in the hallway.

A small voice to his right lets out an amused laugh. He turns to see a particularly tiny woman wearing a very large plaid shirt and nothing else. Well, he supposes she could be wearing shorts under the shirt. It really is very big on her.

“You must be Castiel,” she says rather loudly, mispronouncing his name just slightly.

He walks over to her with a finger to his lips.

She puts her hand over her mouth in embarrassment before signing, I’m deaf.

Castiel mouths an “oh” before dropping his head and laughing. He then pops his head back up fast and mouths, “Are you Eileen?”

She nods eagerly and signs, You’ve heard about me?

Sam has mentioned you a few times, he signs back. He says you’re a very good hunter.

Her face lights up. You’re damn right I am. Still, that’s very sweet of him.

So, are you two…? Castiel looks back toward Sam’s room and then down at Eileen’s shirt.

Eileen’s eyes widen in embarrassment. He’s asleep. I was just going to the bathroom.

I was heading to the kitchen for a cup of tea. Would you like some?

Is there caffeine in it?

Not at 4 in the morning.

Eileen smiles and gives him a thumbs up before moving past him toward the bathroom. Castiel watches her go for a second before it hits him.

He looks down at his plain black t-shirt and too-small boxer briefs and wonders if Eileen could tell that these clothes aren’t his. And that he came out of Dean’s room instead of one of the countless other extra bedrooms in the bunker.

By the time Eileen pads into the kitchen, Castiel has two mugs ready with decaf teabags in them and he’s standing at the stove staring at the pot so he can pull it off the burner before it whistles.

It’s only a minute longer before Cas pours the water into the mugs and takes a seat across from Eileen at the kitchen table.

You’re an angel, aren’t you? Eileen asks as her tea steeps.

Castiel nods as he takes a drink.

Does that mean you don’t sleep?

Sometimes I do. I didn’t feel like it tonight.

Is Dean good in bed?

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a love spell, or something like it

inspired by a post sara reblogged (this one, specifically) and the resulting conversation about different love spells, where she suggested i write the fic. i said no, go away, it’s late. then i stayed up and wrote the fic.

This doesn’t make any sense.

Though they’d never admit it—Dean especially would never admit it—they’re practically witches themselves at this point. Sam isn’t deluded enough to think otherwise. He has a fair share of spells up his sleeve that he knows by heart by now, a few more he’s working on remembering, and some he still struggles with the incantation, but at the end of the day they frequently speak Latin and throw herbs into flames, so, logically, they’re witches, or close enough to it.

And it’s because of this (and his own unfortunate experience that no one must ever speak of again, thanks) that Sam knows a love spell when he sees one.

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#3 Masturbation (Destiel)

Requested anonymously for my kink list (master list here).

Warning: masturbation, voyeurism

Word Count: 1000

A/N: Enjoy some Destiel porn! XOXO

Castiel watches Dean masturbate a lot.

The first time it happened, it was almost an accident. Dean had been in the shower, relieving some tension, and ‘Cas’ had simply been the thought in his mind. He must have thought it pretty hard too (though he would never admit to yearning or longing or praying as Cas had said), because Cas felt it.

It had been a huge surprise for both of them when Cas showed up in the bathroom, to say the least. But it was a nice surprise, and Dean had welcomed Cas to stay.

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Age is but a Number, Love is Infinite

Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,775

Warnings: age difference(nothing underage the reader is 21), language, implied sexy times

Request: Hey it’s ok if you don’t wanna do this but I was wondering if you could write a fic where Dean is his current age and the one reader just turned 20 but like her and Dean have known each other for a long time and have been together for a while and other people always say stuff about their relationship but they’re still just really happy together, maybe w/ a bit of smut?

A/N: I changed a few things like I said I would but overall I think I got what you wanted!! Shout out to @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid for being an awesome beta!! I hope you all like it and feedback is always appreciated!!! :D

Originally posted by frozen-delight

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You Understand, Right? (Part 3): Bargaining Chip

Characters: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Bobby Singer

Length: 1154+ words

TW: Suicide. Depression. Abandonment. Character Death.

A/N: There was so much interest in continuing this fic! I am so glad you guys enjoyed it, and I really wasn’t expecting this to become a series! Feedback is encouraged!

SERIES MASTERLIST


Crowley thundered through the halls of his dungeon, a smirk on his face. He heard a little rumour going around in the rack, about a girl associated with the Winchesters- someone who meant an awful lot. He stood in front of the girl, assessing her from head to toe. A surge of power traveled through his bloodstream as he realized that he found the key to getting the Winchester’s to doing his biddings.

Y/N’s head lolled to the side as she became more conscious of her surroundings. It was rare for someone to be unconscious in hell, the demons like to keep the person fully aware of their torture when they’re on the rack.

“Hello, dear,” he greeted, an evil smirk adorning his face.

She didn’t reply just as Crowley expected. He tapped into her memories, watching her life flash by as he confirmed her relationship with the Winchester brothers. He patted her cheek, ignoring her wince as he didn’t even bother to avoid the bruise on the skin. As he walked away from her, he wondered just exactly what he would ask of the brothers. There were so many possibilities, and he could not wait for the time to bring her up.

It was almost ten years later when Crowley finally exhausted all of his resources, and used up all of his other leverages against the boys.

The demon tracked down the Winchesters to their motel room, having just finished a hunt in town, and ready to head back home to their bunker. 

“Hello, boys,” the demon greeted.

Both brothers pulled out their guns.

“What the hell do you want, Crowley?” Dean demanded.

“Oh, Squirrel. Always had the penchant for the dramatics.”

“Shut up.”

“If you could lower your weapons, and we can talk like normal people-” 

“Not until you tell us what you want,” Sam added.

“Well, I came to you because I may have a wee bit of a predicament.”

“And why should we help you?” Dean asked.

The demon smirked. “Because I got something that may be of interest.”

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Touch Starved

Cas doesn’t know when he started to crave human contact.  He supposes it’s a side effect of inhabiting his vessel for so long, but it’s inconvenient to say the least.  

He remembers hugging Dean when he came back from the dead, wrapping himself around his warm body without a second thought. How easy things had been then, when all of his thoughts were occupied with Dean being alive and what a miracle that was.  He didn’t have to worry about overstepping his bounds, doing something he’d regret.

He remembers Dean cupping his face, stroking it even, holding his hand after a near-fatal (or fatal) injury as he looked into his eyes, making sure he was alright.  

Even then, in the context of whatever brush with death he was recovering from, Cas couldn’t think about anything but melting into Dean’s hands, staying that way forever and ever. But of course, he couldn’t.  That would be inappropriate, a man touching a male vessel for such a sustained period of time, and if Dean touched him for too long he might give into temptation. Overstep his bounds.  Do something he’d regret.

Cas lives a sleepless life, but as he wanders the bunker at night he can’t help but envision what it would be like to lay down in bed next to Dean, to hold him in his arms or have him hold Cas, to feel his warm breath and the thud of his heartbeat. 

 Dean had been so warm when he touched Cas.  So gentle, and so very human.

He tells himself it’s only fantasy, so it doesn’t count.  Just as long as he never let’s it show, what he truly wants, and how badly he wants it:  he craves contact, Dean’s contact, his affection, his warmth.  He wants to know Dean loves him back, for him to show it with his actions if not with his words.  

But he doesn’t dare say it.  He just dreams.

Over a year ticks by like this, when Dean comes home from a hunt, badly injured.  He has a blood-red welt on his forehead, and a deep scratch through the fabric of his shirt. 

 Cas, ever concerned, steps forward.  “Here,” he offers, holding out his hand.  “Let me.”

Dean gives the obligatory, feeble protest, but doesn’t move away as Cas presses his hand to his shoulder, where his handprint had been all those years ago.  

The injuries slowly fade from Dean’s body, and Cas, satisfied that his patient is now well, begins to retract his hand.

It’s barely perceptible, the way Dean leans towards the contact, following it.  Chasing it.  

Cas notices anyway, and his brow furrows.  He’s been told he lacks empathy, but Cas recognizes the gesture, the longing that was behind it.  It just doesn’t seem possible that Dean could crave what Cas does.

Still, tentatively, experimentally, places his hand back on Dean’s shoulder.  

“What’re you doin’?”  Dean inquires, voice a tired grumble.  “I’m all healed up.  I’m fine now.”

Still, he doesn’t move away.

“I am…checking for further injuries,” he informs him, and immediately feels guilty for lying.  Still, he needs to know if Dean wants this too, whether even some small part of him might crave this.  He allows his hands to move gently over Dean’s shoulders, tentatively as though he might break.

Dean makes a soft grunt that tells Cas he doesn’t quite believe his alibi, but still, he doesn’t move away. He leans closer, into Castiel’s touch.

Cas continues, in somewhat awed silence, his hands stroking down Dean’s broad shoulders, down his muscular back, radiating warmth beneath his thick flannel shirt.  Cas wishes he wasn’t wearing it, and not even for sexual reasons:  he just wants to feel Dean’s skin beneath his own, wants the intimacy of being together without the restrictions of clothes.

He allows his fingertips to brush, feather-light, over the bare skin of Dean’s neck, still damp with sweat from the exertion of their hunt.  Dean doesn’t tense, or do anything, really:  he just sits there, perfectly still.  Cas can’t read his facial expression, but he somehow feels he’s doing something forbidden.  

At that moment, Sam walks in, saying something innocuous about the hunt and not noticing whatever it is they’re doing.  

Dean stands up abruptly, practically knocking over a chair as he does so.  Cas watches him curiously as he awkwardly greets him, clearly somewhat embarrassed, despite the fact Sam wasn’t aware of the exchange that had just transpired.  

Sam looks suspiciously from Dean, then to Cas, then goes about his business like he doesn’t want to know.

It isn’t until months later that Cas finally gets what he wants, though he’s not coherent enough to fully appreciate it.  

He’s been stabbed through the gut with an angel blade, grace seriously depleted and nearly delirious.  

It’s an unfortunately close re-enactment of the last time Cas was taken from them, and Dean knows it as he lugs Cas into bunker, draped over his shoulder like a rag doll.  

He’s barely conscious as Dean lays him on the sofa, pealing back his blood-soaked shirt to reveal the wound, the blue light of his Grace illuminating from within.  

He yells something at Sam, who minutely brings them a bowl of hot water and a cloth, which Dean then uses to clean it.  If Cas were more coherent, he’d tell Dean that was useless, that he would be healed by his grace or not at all;  mending a vessel when his true form was damaged was like trying to repair a flesh wound by patching up clothing.

But Dean is touching him gently, cleaning his wound and muttering to him soft, soothing nothings that he can’t quite make out.

He’s looking at him with an emotion somewhere between desperation and…Cas refuses to let himself think ‘love’, not wanting to feed into his own false hope, but it’s something very close to it.

In spite of himself, he smiles, allowing Dean to take care of him as his eyes flutter shut one last time.

…  

When Cas comes to, he’s shirtless and carefully bandaged, though he doesn’t need it anymore;  his Grace heeled the wound over night.  Now, not even a scar remains.

He doesn’t have much time to pontificate on this, however, because Dean is beside him, asleep on the sofa, one arm draped over Castiel’s bare midsection and the other wrapped around a pillow, snoring softly.  

Cas watches him, too awed to say anything, for the better part of a half hour.  Not even Dean drooling on his pillow is enough to detract from the wonder of him being here.  The fact that he has, apparently, stayed with him throughout the night, his body pressed against his own.

And here Cas had been losing faith in miracles.  

After a while, Dean’s eyes flitter open, and he awakens with a startled snort as he realizes Cas is staring at him.  

Cas is about to apologize for staring, again, when Dean has expressed his desire for him not to, but Dean is only sitting up on his elbow, grinning stupidly at him and rubbing the drool off his chin.  

“Cas,” he half-chuckles, voice breathy and slightly awed.  “You’re alive.”

Cas nods sagely, grunting as he sits back on his pillow.  “I believe so, yes.”

“That’s…”  Dean trails off, laughing breathlessly.  “That’s awesome, man.  We didn’t think you were gonna make it for a while.  If you were human, that blow would’ve been-”  He trails off.  “I’m glad you’re here, man.”

Cas is barely listening at this point, still staring at Dean in quiet awe.

“You…stayed with me,”  he murmurs, Dean blinks, looking slightly taken aback by the statement:  it’s almost a question, the way Cas phrases it; the inquiry of why is evident in his voice.

“Of course I did, man.  We care about you,” he says, hand rubbing at the back of his neck.  “I care about you.”

Cas stares at him, expression unreadable.  Slowly, he nods.

They’re still lying there, on the sofa, bodies pressed close.  Dean is so warm, so soft and pliable against him, radiating the heat Castiel has craved for so long.

Cas wets his lips.  “Can we stay like this, just a little while?”  he asks, voice barely a whisper.  He doesn’t want to make Dean feel uncomfortable, but he wants this closeness so badly.  He never wants it to stop.

There’s a brief pause.  Dean swallows before he answers, “Sure, Cas.  Whatever you need, buddy.”

Cas smiles, tentatively resting his head against Dean’s shoulder.  He closes his eyes, not missing the way Dean leans into his touch, the contented sigh he breathes through his nose.  

And Cas knows, in that moment, that Dean’s wanted this too.  Maybe as much as Cas has, if that’s possible.

It only feels natural when Dean leans in for a kiss.  

Mixup

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, talk of periods

Word Count: 1,913

Prompt: After a witch spews it’s spells on Dean and the reader, the reader wishes for something to happen to Dean, and Dean turns into a whiny bitch about it.

Special thanks to @lipstickandwhiskey for betaing.

It was nearly blinding when the purplish-grey dust flew around you and Dean. Before it could all clear out, and the two of you could actually see, Sam had nailed the witch. One bullet, directly through the back of her head, and you were fine. She collapsed into a heap on the ground, and that was that.

Sam’s nose scrunched up as he approached the two of you. “What the hell did she douse you guys with?”

“Some of her freak weirdo witch juice,” Dean grumbled, practically gagging at the stench that was coming from the dust. “I need to shower, like now.”

“Good thing we’re not far from the motel,” you chimed in. “So what do we do with Bellatrix over there?”

Dean scoffed, “really? Out of all the iconic witches, you pick the one from Harry Potter?”

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Shock Horror

(Gif source: x)

Characters- Dean x Reader, Sam
Summary- Dean comes back from a witch hunt not quite himself. You do your best to help, and hope that it’s enough.
Word Count- 1,889
Warnings- Angst, Fluff, Language.
Beta- @jpadjackles  **re-edited**
A/N- Prompt: ‘Caught Up In You’ by 38 Special Requested by @anon. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! Also, thank you all so much for 2.5k followers! I love y’all so much <3


As you crouch in front of the open passenger door, you look over the man in the bench seat. The man you see is far removed from the usual Dean Winchester you knew. He’s eerily quiet, sitting stiffly as he stares, unseeing, out of the windshield. The impala is parked in the bunker’s garage, but he just sits there, motionless, except for the occasional lethargic blink.

When Sam and Dean came back from their hunt, you expected them to be in one of two moods. The first and most preferred was the giddy excitement of a job well done, beers and pie all around. The second was less desired, the quiet thoughtfulness of a rough hunt.

Right now you would take the quiet over this.

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Unpretty

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word count: 2475

Warnings: body insecurities, verbally abusive relationship, smut, severely fluffy Jensen, cussing, i think that’s it. let me know if there is more please!

Request: Unpretty by TLC with Jensen x Reader from @mysteriouslyme81

A/N: I thoroughly enjoyed writing this, it’s hands down the quickest I have ever written anything because I was so into it. I don’t care who you are, we all have had some sort of insecurity at some point in our life. I hope this is a way for whoever may be struggling with this to learn to accept themselves and if you are in a toxic relationship, you can do so much better. You are all beautiful!! Thanks yall! As always thank you to my forever beta @avasmommy224

It was your second week working as an extra on the show Supernatural. Your boyfriend was beyond unsupportive, he always told you that you were never good enough to be an actress. You weren’t skinny enough for this role or too skinny for that role. You would get an offer for a part and as excited as you were to get his opinion, he always had something negative to say. This time it was for a love interest of Dean Winchester’s. You were a vamp that he’d met in a bar a few episodes behind but you slipped out of the bar when you found out that he was a hunter.

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November Rain (Part 1)

Originally posted by rocksaroundthesuns

Characters: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 3001

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Angst, Violence Against the Reader, Swearing, Bigotry 

Summary:  After a hunt goes awry, Dean and the reader spend the night together, but was it all a mistake?

A/N:  This is my first A/B/O fic, written for @dr-dean‘s A/B/O Challenge (Happy Birthday!!).  I’ve always wanted to write one of these, so thank you so much for breaking me out of my shell.  And thank you @notnaturalanahi, for getting me out of my funk and inspired to write this, not to mention betaing it for me.  The prompt was November Rain by Guns n’Roses (one of my favorite songs, by my favorite band.)  Written using @kittenofdoomage‘s A/B/O Rules.  It got a little too long, so I’m splitting it up into two parts.  

***Please do not repost my work without my knowledge or consent.  Even if you are giving me credit, please do not repost my work.***


The day you met Dean Winchester you knew he belonged to you.

It wasn’t the earth shattering electricity you’d heard True Bonds conveyed when mates touched.  It was in a smile, in a glance, in the warm, comforting knowledge that he was yours.  Just for you.

Since then, loving him had been as easy as breathing, but being with him was considerably harder.  If Dean had felt the call, he never showed it.  He worked beside you, treated you like family, but never made an advance.  And that was the true challenge of your situation, and the true burden of being an unmated Omega.

“I’ll have you know, I’m great company to most people,” Dean said, shaking you out of your thoughts.

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