ep: its a terrible life

someone prove to me how it wasn’t inevitable that Dean Smith and Sam Wesson were going to end up in bed together if Zachariah had been allowed to keep the Winchesters in his fantasy land.

-after the magnetizing staring contests,

before they had properly met.

-after the accusations of sexuality,

and offering that beer after taking Sam back to his place so late at night.

-after feeling that empty shell without each other,

and then coming alive while they were near.

-after the dreams Sam had of he and Dean,

and how he told Dean about those dreams.

-after Sam, bright-eyed and hopeful, asked Dean to throw it all away and be with him,

after Dean actually did just that.

prove to me how they weren’t going to let their eyes wander during those late nights in a split motel room, wondering why this other person has so much sway in their life. why they click, why they make sense. why they met and dropped everything to do what they were doing. prove to me they weren’t going to impress each other in a brawl with a monster and save each others lives. tell me how they wouldn’t end up wrapped around each other after Sam’s dreams of him and Dean didn’t stop. because they both couldn’t explain their wild and sudden attachment, which Dean originally mistook for simple flirting.

Not that terrible. (dean smithXreader)

words: 947
warning: Dean!Smith, office kissing, boss deanXreader, sass, kissing, british!reader, slight smut
request: slayer-in-the-impala

summary: You work for Dean Smith, the sexually frustrating, cocky man. Your sass keeps your control, but when it slips you and Dean end up in his office doing more than paperwork.
A/N: I loved it’s a terrible life Dean! it felt amazing to relive it in my own view/story ;)


“Mr. Smith, your 8:00 appointment is here,” you stated.

The pencil skirt and blouse you were wearing wasn’t your ideal outfit, but you needed the job as Mr. Smith’s personal assistant. You hoped it would get you higher up in the business, so you could have as nice of an office as this guy.

“Thanks Y/N,” he winked, “you look as fabulous as ever.”
“Eyes up here mate,” you winked and left the room, without waiting for an answer.

As you walked you felt his gaze follow your back, his eyes moving in the motion of your ass. You’d have to think about reporting him for sexual harassment, if he tried anything. You were here for the money and could care less about the well built, 6 foot something dirty blonde.

Your shoulder was tapped and you turned to see your boss, Dean.
“Baby make sure you bring me a fresh coffee during the meeting, I could always use a distraction,” he smiled innocently, devouring your body from head to toe.

“Listen, I didn’t relocate all the way from London, to be your picture to stare at,” you said folding your arms on your chest.
“And hold,” he drawled making a frame with his hands, staring in it at your chest.
“Oh jack off,” you said, smiling sarcastically and grabbing his mug.
“Maybe later, you can even join,” he shouted after you and you saluted him with a middle finger.

He entered the glass doors of the board room and you walked to the break room. It was very fancy, a fully stocked fridge, fresh fruit, the whole deal. You smiled taking an apple. He would probably want his coffee in 15 minutes, so you decided to wait until then. You busied yourself with grabbing a mug of hot water and dipping a tea bag into it. You picked up a magazine on the table and began to read.

Lost in thought, you were awoken by the coffee machine clattering.

“I guess I’ll get coffee myself doll,” Dean said, from the machine. He placed the pot back and took a seat next to you. You took this time to notice the bright red tie and blue pin stripe button down. He was handsome, hell mouthwateringly sexy, but you had to maintain your sarcasm.
“It’s been 10 minutes,” you whined.
“And I was expecting you in 5. I was hoping you would make an excuse as to why I needed to get out of it, but yet again baby, you let me down,” he frowned.
“When have I ever let you down,” you scoffed.
“Every time you sidestep my attempts to have a taste of you,” he grinned back.

“I am not your fairy floss flavour of the month Mr. Smith. What are you implying,” you said, picking up your tea.

“I am simply saying I am a man, you are a female, with an accent I might add.”
“And that makes me feel less ill?”
“Talk british to me baby,” he smirked.
“Keep your knickers on arsehole.”
“You should be kissing my arse,” he said, mimicking your accent.

You stood from your chair and straddled his, you grabbed his tie and pulled him close to your face. You got close to his neck where you were sure he could feel your warm breath.

“Usually the guy goes down first Mr. Smith,” you whispered.

You felt his pants tighten and you stood, dusting yourself off and walking back to his office. You heard his footsteps after you and you knew you had him. A grin spread across your face as you walked into his office.

“You think you can get away with that princess?” He said, shutting his door and clicking it locked.
“Of course I can Daddy,” you smiled.

He took two strides and he had you push up against the glass window of the skyscraper. He kissed you roughly and held you tight. The kiss was heated as his tongue fought for dominance. You wound his tie in your hands and pulled him closer. Gaining an advantage, you pushed him back so he hit the desk. He sat on the edge and you kicked your heels off. You got on top of him and wrapped your legs around him. He held your back for support, in such a precarious position.  You reattached your lips, as you yanked on his blood red tie. A small groan fell from his lips and you smiled into the kiss.

“I like this,” you moaned, giving the tie a yank.

A knock on the door tore you from his lips. You jumped off of him, trying to fix your rumpled skirt. You quickly took a seat in the chair facing his desk. Dean fixed his tie, mumbling a fuck and went to the door. He opened it and exchanged a few words with who you assumed was a higher up, as Dean was nodding vigorously and replying politely. When he finally shut the door he blew out a breath of relief.

“If you would’ve shown that kindness and respect to me when I arrived, you would have had this flavour stuck between your teeth already,” you grinned.

His mouth formed an O and he grabbed you. He walked you backwards to the desk, lips attached the whole time and pushed you onto the already cleared spot. He leaned into you and you grabbed the back of his neck, entwining your fingers in his hair.

“That was close,” he laughed.
“Brilliant observation.”

He pulled your lip in his teeth and you moaned.
“Watch it doll,” he smiled, letting your lip go.

“The door’s locked, we’re solid,” you winked, looking up at him through your lashes.
“You’re so sassy.”

You nodded and kissed him.

“It’s not that terrible of a life,” Dean smiled, kissing you again.


I’m going to try to describe what this moment was like for me when I saw it on Wednesday. It’s difficult to put into words. It was like someone had suddenly wrapped me in a blanket of dread. That music kicked in, and the barbed bracelet circles started flying, and I HAD A REACTION. I had an actual physical reaction to it. I took a sharp breath and it felt like my heart seized up. But it was completely without context. I’m reacting to this and I have no idea why.

Memory is such a strange thing. I remembered so few details about Stars. (I didn’t even know I remembered THIS until there it was.) Yet suddenly there are all these EMOTIONS and you can’t be sure where they’re coming from or going to.

I know me. I would’ve watched this over and over again. Don’t get me wrong, I am wailing in agony and my tears are real and everything I am going to be writing about HURTS ME DEEPLY. But they’re all (well, mostly) The Good Hurts, the kind that remind you how much you love these characters, and how much they love each other, and how very very important all that is.



So that music, the sudden chord erupting from the silence and tension of the moment, would have been the signifier that all that pain, that delicious delicious pain, was coming.

Then fast-forward decades later, and the details are gone. The whys and hows have left me. There’s only THIS. This flash of intense emotions that I feel, that are mine, but also NOT mine because I don’t understand them.

I wouldn’t have needed help to feel the things that I did, but it added an interesting dimension to it all, made it a bit more REAL, almost. It was overshadowed so quickly by what happened, but it was such an intense moment for me, I wanted to try to capture it.

It’s amazing, the power that stories have.