#DEAN WINCHESTER I KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE

[figthoughts]

you think dean/ben would like a bit chubby girls?:(

yes, absolutely!!!! they’d both appreciate a chubby girl! <3

— dean winchester *ੈ✩‧₊˚

dean would grow to appreciate a fuller girl and all the pros that come with her. of course, we all know early seasons dean liked ‘em slim, but when i say mid-late seasons dean would go crazy for some thick thighs and a comfy belly to lay on – i mean it. i imagine him coming home after a long hunt just wanting to cuddle with his girl, the coziness of her soft plump belly or squishy thick thighs feeling like heaven after spending nights on lumpy motel beds. he’d love how soft his girl is, always needing to touch her in some way, finding comfort in how she feels and how much her touch soothes him. if she was insecure or a little down on her self-confidence, you best believe that man is telling her off, saying how beautiful she is, and then showing her how much he adores her by taking her to bed and worshipping every part of her body for hours until he’s sure she’s heard him loud and clear...

— soldier boy [ ben ] *ੈ✩‧₊˚

ben knows what he likes and what he likes is a fuller woman. he’s been around the block before, sleeping with pretty much every type of lady, but what he finds himself always coming back to is someone who’s a little chubbier. maybe it’s because he was a young man in the 50s when fuller figures were idolised, instead of the modern beauty standards that he often inappropriately grumbles about “tiny thing like her could do with a good burger” and “jesus, why don’t women eat in this century?”. the second he’s around a fuller woman, he’s non-stop about getting his hands on her and worshipping her thick thighs or her curvy ass. if he ever heard his woman worrying about her weight or figure, he’d grow a large smirk and say something like “s’more to grab onto, darlin’. easier to fuck you harder with a better grip” before practically pouncing on her and showing her how much he loves her body.

A/N: this was so fun to write!!! love reqs like this <333

[take-it-on-the-run]

Imagine: Wearing Baggy Clothes with Dean

Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 900

@ghostlyaccurate requested: Hii! Can i please request an established relationship Dean Winchester x fem! Or gn! Reader who always wear insanely baggy jeans and just some friendly banter like: Reader: *gets in the passenger seat of baby, holding the jeans up a bit like a dress* Dean: Reader: *looks confused at Dean* Dean: you gonna leave some jeans for the clowns in the circus? Reader: oh fuck off Winchester Dean: I'm just saying, you hold them like a princess dress Reader: how the fuck did you get me to fall for you? (Bonus: his reaction when he sees reader in a tight fitting dress/ silk, short ish nightgown, for the first time and he's just like :0)

A/N: Good God why didn't I write this sooner?? I'm a baggy pants girly myself and I was able to write this so easily. Gonna apologize to @ghostlyaccurate because I have been swamped in school work and just remembered my inbox was a thing. Thank you for requesting and giving me inspiration to write! I hope ya'll enjoy my first imagine!!

Dean Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

You’d always stuck to baggier styles

It started with comfort, and then you realized that bigger pants lead to bigger pockets

Bigger pockets meant not having to run back to your car to get gear you couldn’t carry

You met Dean while Sam was at Stanford, and before him, you never thought much of your preference

Then, a few months on your ride across the nation to find John, you caught Dean looking at you with creased eyebrows and chuckling

“What?”

Your hands were balled up against your sides, raising the legs of your pants to let you step in the car without tripping

It came out harsher than you intended, but Dean didn’t mention it if he noticed

“You always ball up your jeans like some kinda princess whenever you get in the car. Might have to start callin’ you ‘princess’.”

You shot him a glare that you now know rivals one of his brother’s

Without you rebutting him, he poked at you again

“Gonna leave some jean for the rest of us? Might have to call Canada to warn them.”

You smacked him playfully, lips breaking into a smile

“Fuck off, man, do you know how much it sucks when you don’t have pockets for anything?”

Dean poorly blocked your hand, looking over at you silently as he revved the car

You relaxed into your seat at his silence

“Exactly.”

Looking back, you had no idea how you managed to fall for him

Then again, you felt similarly to his feelings for you

After the two of you found Sam, and then shortly after found, and lost, John, it was a quick spiral into solving whatever case the three of you could get your hands on

One of which included finding and destroying a hand of glory alongside your friend-not-quite-friend Bela Talbot

When Dean told you about the plan the first time, you weren’t thrilled that he said he needed you to work all together

You were even less thrilled when he unveiled that the hand was kept by some rich guy

Who was hosting a fancy ball

And that you still needed to come in

You didn’t mind formal events, occasionally enjoying getting dressed up made you feel good

But with Ms. Big Ben on your team ushering you to a room to get ready, you remembered the last time you were done up like this was at your senior prom

Where, if Carrie wasn’t already the prom scream queen, you’d have taken the crown

You went with some friends, but your parents only let you go if you brought some protection with you, and not the rubber kind

Growing up a hunter was tough enough for you, and you wanted to feel normal for just one night

So you left your gear in a bush outside the venue

Dumb idea

That night ended in a vampire’s head soaking you in blood, your poor date knocked to the ground, looking at you with horror

He skipped on the details but shared the part where you were covered in blood

You left school before the year ended and were able to get your diploma from home

Now, looking at yourself covered in more makeup than you normally wear and fabric clinging to parts of your body you were sure people forgot existed, you prayed the night didn’t repeat itself

At least this time your date would be impressed if you decapitated a monster

You willed yourself out of the room, following Bela down the stairs where Sam and Dean stood waiting in tuxes

Dean’s eyes scanned every dip and curve of your body, and you wanted to stick your finger in an electrical socket

Bela left for the car, Sam close behind, leaving Dean to stare at you alone

You waited for him to say something, a remark about looking done up for once, but he didn’t

Instead, his tongue darted onto his lips, leaving them parted as you stood still

Was he… gawking?

He’d told you that you were pretty countless of times, but this moment felt like something completely different

“You look… amazing.”

Before you could fathom to accept his complement, you let a wise crack out

“You’re saying I don’t normally?”

He laughed, shaking his head

“Never said that, sweetheart.”

Smart man

It was a small pause in your daily hunts, where you felt normal for a moment

When you were eventually covered in blood, dirt, and grime by the end of the job, Dean stood beside you in a similar state

He looked at you, eyes still holding the mystified look he gave when you first came down the stairs

No horror or disgust

And, the next day when you returned to your regular clothes, you noticed the way he looked at you held an awe-struck sense

Then again, you thought back to all the time you’d known him. Back in the car, when he was giving you shit, he looked at you with awe

If only you’d been able to see it earlier

[archiveofvirtue]

ᝰ.ᐟ BF DEAN WINCHESTER ⸻ nsfw head canons

notes / as promised for u nasties ;) def had a lot if fun creating this!! I just know dean be getting freaky with it.. NSFW, 18+

ʚ EXTREMELY confident in the bedroom. he knows what he’s good at and would waste no time showing u, thriving on knowing that he makes u feel good

ʚ he absolutely loves it when u give him head, ur lips wrapped around his cock while he guides u by your hair, and most of the time he’s so sensitive that he finishes in ur mouth

ʚ dean is hella vocal, not afraid of letting u know what he wants or how good u make him feel. “God, sweetheart you’re taking me so fucking well.”

ʚ he loves teasing you, drawing things out until you're practically begging for more..always a smug little smile on his face

ʚ absolutely down for quickies whenever and wherever, if he’s horny he would waste no time, weather it’s pulling u into the backseat of the impala or even when sam is right next door

ʚ dean is a passionate kisser, his lips always have to be attached to u in some way, preferably ur neck or chest, he just looooves touching u in various ways

ʚ though he is naturally dominant, he enjoys seeing u take control once in a while, turning into such a whimpering mess underneath ur touch. “Shit, please baby, need you to make me cum, please..”

ʚ his favorite position is 100% reverse cowgirl, or generally having u on top, loving the way he gets to admire ur body, especially when he gets to see ur bouncing tits

ʚ NEVER misses and opportunity to mark u up, just for him to see though, a small reminder for u both of how good he made u feel

ʚ he thinks shower sex is definitely underrated, something about the warmth and the water making it even more intense for him, plus he loves washing ur hair after

ʚ GUIDED MASTURBATION. YUP.

ʚ despite his rough exterior he loves the quiet moments after sex, holding u close to him and whispering sweet nothings into ur ear.“You’re beautiful, I’m so fucking lucky.”

*stares*

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @angelicjackles @hischrrypie @chevroletdean @deansbite @nuemanfilms @sammyluvr @nxptvn @rubyvhs

[jasvtsc]

terminally ill!dean winchester x reader.

dean knew that he didn’t have much time.

after discovering that he had blood clots in his brain that were pretty much incurable, because of a spell some witch cast on him, he didn’t know what to do. for the first time in his life, he felt so…

lost.

and when he thought about it better, he realized that he was all alone.

sure, there were people in his life. he had his brother and his friends. but he didn’t have his own person. everyone had someone. sam had a whole family, castiel was back in heaven doing some angel duty type shit and the rest of them? they weren’t that close.

so yeah, everyone had someone. but dean? he was lonely.

how else, after all he was the one who got rid of you in the first place. he still had this bitter feeling about your break up. not to mention the guilt that was eating him alive since that day.

as the type of person who avoids any type of feelings like fire, he did the same with you. as soon as you were getting too close to his liking, he got scared and immediately ran away. he came up with some shit, how he just got bored of you and it was all causal from the beginning — you were just imagining things, there was no relationship.

when in fact he loved you. and he loved you like crazy.

and the knowledge that he was about to die soon (where this time there was no coming back), he was actually scared.

all he wanted was one day with you.

but even when he was standing on the front porch of your house, he hesitated, his hand halfway up to the door as he didn’t know if he should knock. however, he had nothing to lose at this point. even if you screamed at him how much you hated him and punched him repeatedly, he’d take it. he’d do everything, just to see you this one last time.

so, he knocked.

and when you opened the door, you didn’t know if you were seeing things now or what. there he was — dean fucking winchester, in the flesh.

you debated whether you should kick him out or kick him. the fucking audacity to appear at your doorstep after all these years? yeah, well, you weren’t as strong-willed as you wanted to be so soon enough, he was sitting in your kitchen, having a cup of coffee.

“so, kids, huh?” he hummed, looking around at all the different pictures of your little family — your partner and two kids probably around the age of four and two.

and he couldn’t help but feel nauseous at the thought that it could be him if if wasn’t for the fact that he was a fucking coward. it was enough to make him want to turn back time and undo everything.

he missed you, so much.

and at this point, he regretted his whole life spent on avoiding commitment. maybe then, he’d have someone who would care for him enough to have a family together. maybe then, he’d get to be the father he once dreamed of being. he had always been good with kids and he wanted to even have some of his own one day — with you.

but of course, he had to fuck it up like everything else in his life.

“what do you want, dean?” you sighed tiredly, rubbing your temple. this whole situation was already giving you a headache and you had a feeling that it was about to get worse.

you weren’t wrong.

“well, you see—“ he cleared his throat and began to explain his situation. he didn’t want pity or sympathy. he didn’t want to guilt trip you. he just wanted you… to know. that’s all. “—so, i just wanted to see you again. one last time,” he said with a sheepish smile, quickly looking away.

because as soon as he noticed the tears gathering in your beautiful eyes, that once had held so much love for him, he felt like he was about to cry himself.

“how much time do you have?” you asked, your voice trembling as you looked at him in disbelief. it felt so surreal to know that the man you once loved was actually dying. and there was nothing you could’ve done about it.

“i don’t know,” he shrugged.

a fucking lie.

he knew exactly how much time he had left — just a few hours. he already said his goodbyes to everyone and you were the last one on his list. and the reason was pretty simple — he wanted to spend his last moments with the love of his life.

with the one that got away.

a/n: so yeah, this one was inspired by a kdrama called mr. plankton (that shit DESTORYED ME i actually need a few business days to get it together lmao) and ig i just keep on being emo

༄♡ tags: @internetitgirl17 @beausling @deanswidow @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @fitxgrld @figthoughts @angelicp0etry @hrtsoldierboy @titsout4nicholas

[nightxcreature]

Do You Wanna Touch Me?

18+ ONLY

Summary: Part Two to Hotblooded, Reader can't help herself. She needs Dean anyway she can get him.

Warnings: Smut, Masturbation, Spice, Dirty Talk

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

A/N: wow. I did not expect that last one to get so much love and attention! Thank you all for being so kind! This is only my second ? time writing smut, so I hope it meets your expectations. I may keep this one going for at least one more part if you guys are interested. :) As always, comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!

do not copy and share my work anywhere, you don't have permission.

I had been trying to fall asleep for hours now, and yet here I lay, half naked and clinging to a pillow for dear life. The ingredients in my drink from earlier were still running their course through my system and had left me panting at the mere thought of Dean. I’d rid myself of my T-shirt before Sam had even left my room, heat emanating from my body at a rapid pace. Sam had awkwardly averted his gaze before locking me in and reminding me that I should feel better after I rest. And yet even hours later, I feel like I’ll die if I don’t see Dean soon, speak to him, touch him…

                I groan as I shift to snag my phone from the nightstand, my hips rolling deliciously against the pillow below me. Feral thoughts of the hunter a few doors down rack my brain and I quickly pull up his contact before pressing the call button. His ringtone echoes down the hall from where I assume he is in the library before he answers.

                “Hey, Darlin’,” His voice alone causes my heart to race, a gasp leaving my lips, “Are you okay?”

                I shuffle to straddle the pillow below me as he speaks, the worry for me in his voice sending me into a frenzy, “No. I need you.” I practically cry into the speaker, “Need you so bad.”

                He sighs deeply and I can hear papers shuffling in the background, “You should be asleep, Sweetheart.”

                “Can’t sleep.” I mumble, rolling my hips against the pillow as he speaks, “Can only think about you. I don’t think I’ll think of anything else ever again.”

                “I’m trying to find something to help make it easier for you, I’m sorry.” He whispers, papers shuffling again, “I promise, it’s got to wear off eventually.”

                I let out a frustrated sound, my bottom lip jutting out as I whine, “I’m going to die in here! I’m going to die from needing you so bad and you wont even come in here to help me.”

                “I can’t come help you, Baby. It’s not you that’s asking for this.” He whispers and I can hear the frustration in his voice. One part of me is yelling for me to shut up, to hang up the phone and go to bed, try to somehow go to sleep and forget this ever happened…but the other part of me is ravenous, feral for the man on the other end of the line, and she is not going to lose this battle without a fight.

                “It’s your job to help people, Dean.” I cry out, a low blow I know, but the desperation coursing through my veins won’t let up, “Are you really going to leave me here like this?”

                “Don’t do that.” He growls out, “I told you before that we could talk about this when you’re not drunk off some god-level fuck juice. I want to talk about this. I do want to help you, but I won’t go in that room.”

                His take-no-shit tone goes straight to my core, which I know is the exact opposite of what he’s looking for, but I can’t stop imagining the firm look on his face as he scolds me. My hips roll quicker, a ravenous feeling overtaking my thoughts, “Please keep talking.” I whisper as my eyes close. I hear his breathing hitch, but he doesn’t speak for a moment, and I bite my lip nervously. Did I make him upset? I don’t think I can live with myself if he’s upset with me, “I’m sorry, I didn’t-.”

                “Don’t apologize.” He cuts me off quickly, “What are you doing?”

                Embarrassment should flood my system, but the idea of being caught getting off to his voice just spurs me on. I lift off the pillow to roll my shorts down my legs and then position myself over it again, “What do you think I’m doing?” I whisper seductively into the speaker. Hoping, practically praying, that he knows and he’ll throw whatever righteousness he has left out the window to come help me reach my goal. Sweat pours down my forehead and a heaviness sits in my hips, I rut against the pillow again to try and alleviate the feeling, a small moan leaving my lips as I do.

                The rough sound of his chair sliding across the library floor and his heavy boots thudding as he walks stills me. I sit with bated breath listening to the sound through the phone, waiting to hear him outside my door, “Where are you going?”

                I hear him chuckle quietly before his voice finally graces my ear again, “Where do you think I’m going?” I hear his boots come to a stop, but no sound comes from the hallway in front of my room.

                I groan in frustration, rutting against the pillow isn’t bringing the amount of relief that my body needs and the thought of Dean not being here to help me brings a sinking feeling in my stomach, “Where are you?”

                A door clicks closed on his end before he speaks, “What are you wearing?” He whispers gruffly, sending a shock to my core. I stay quiet for a moment before he whispers a bit softer, “You told me to keep talking. I won’t come in that room with you, but I am going to help you. Now, what are you wearing?”

                Though he can’t see me, I nod quickly and glance down to my torso. Thankful for the black lace panty set cladding my body so I don’t have to lie…I don’t think I could lie to him right now, “My underwear.” I whisper, holding my breath while I wait for him to speak again, “It’s black and lacy and I think you’d really like it.”

                He groans quietly and I can hear him lay down on what I assume is his own bed, “I’d like to see that.”

                “Come here and you can.” My breathing is heavy, anticipation building throughout me as I beg him, “Please.”

                “Please? You gonna beg me, Sweetheart?” He whispers lowly, the teasing tone spurs me on and I roll my hips against the pillow again, moaning louder as I do. I hear him suck in a breath before he continues, “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Touch me. Please, touch me.” I cry out, “I need you all over me.”

                He chuckles darkly, “I can’t right now, can I? But, you can.”

 At his words my hips stutter, I glance down at the pillow as I slide back toward my headboard, “You want me to…”

“Touch yourself, Baby. Where do you want my hands?” His voice is low as he instructs me and I dust the hand not holding my phone across my chest as I listen to his breathing, “Where do you want me to touch you?”

 “Everywhere. My chest, my legs, my….” I gasp as my fingertips rub over my clothed nipples; eyes still closed, I imagine his fingers being the ones ghosting across my frame.

I can practically hear the smile on his face when he speaks again, his voice quiet and heavy, “Yeah, I wanna touch you there, too. I can’t stop thinking about the things I want to do to you.”

“What else do you want to do to me?” I whisper, my hands making their way down my body at a slow pace. I play with the hem of my panties, imagining it’s his thick fingers there teasing me as he speaks slowly into my ear.

“I wanna spend all day between your legs, Baby. Wanna fuck you so good, you forget your name.” He whispers huskily, his breathing is heavier and I almost cum at the thought that he must be touching himself, too. I slide my hand into my panties and moan breathlessly at the feeling of relief that rushes my system. I circle my fingers around my opening, brushing my fingertips over the bud at the apex every so often

                “You drive me crazy,” I groan, throwing my head back against the headboard as I picture his face between my thighs and all the filthy noises he would be making while he eats me, “I need more. You make me so wet.”

                He curses into the speaker and I can hear his breathing quicken, “Take off your clothes.” The harshness in his voice causes my eyes to snap open and rushes me to strip bare faster than I ever have. I remain quiet as I lay alone, listening to his rapid breathing on the other end of the line, “You want me to fuck you, Baby?”

                I nod dumbly before realizing that he still can’t see me and quickly recover, “Yes.”

                “I want you on your hands and knees. Arch your back and touch yourself.” I nod again, rolling quickly to my hands and knees to do as he asks, “I can’t see you, Sweetheart. Are you listening to me?”

                “Yes, Sir.” I mumble as I rush to put the phone on speaker and roll my hips against my fingers, “I’m listening.”

                “Good girl.” He replies, chuckling as I moan at the name, “You like that?”

                “Yes. I love that.” I pant, rubbing faster against the bundle nerves between my thighs. My eyes roll back at the feeling and I try my best to focus on Dean’s voice as he continues to talk me through this.

                “All those little sounds your making are getting me so hard, Darlin’. I can’t stop thinking about how good you must feel, about how good I’d make you feel.” His husky whispers sends my imagination into overdrive as I raise up to sit on my heels. A single finger sinks into me and I moan out at the relief, “I’ve been thinking about being inside you all day. Whatever you want me to do to you, I’d do it. I want to be so deep inside you.”

                My eyes roll at his words, my breathing becoming heavier and I barely hear him when he asks, “You close, Sweetheart? Want me to make you cum?” The teasing lilt in his voice urging my hands to move quicker, my fingers rushing in and out of my opening like lightening. My toes curl and my vision goes blurry as the orgasm crashes into me suddenly. His name leaves my lips like a prayer as I come down and I hear him grunt, whispering my name quietly against the phone speaker.

                My breathing is heavy when I finally speak, “Thank you.”

                He chuckles awkwardly and I can imagine the way a blush covers his cheeks when he replies, “No need to thank me, Darlin’. I think I got just as much out of this as you did.”

                I laugh a little in response, feeling the hint of a blush rising in my own cheeks. The relief I feel is insurmountable and I can feel exhaustion taking over my body in exchange for the rabid horniness from earlier. “Do you think this is over? The potion, I mean.” I ask, waiting for the intense feeling of want to return.

                “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.” He mumbles, “If you need me again though, just call.”

                “Will do.” I reply, “We do have a lot to talk about when I’m feeling better though…”

                He laughs nervously before trying to hide it as a cough before agreeing, “Yeah, uh, we do.”

                “I’ll see you after my nap, Dean.” I answer with a slight smile, “And then we can see just how quickly I forget my name.”

                He snorts and I can hear the smirk in his voice, “Set a timer, Sweetheart, it won’t take long.”

______________________________________________________________

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[cosmicanakin]

⸝⸝ 𓈒ㅤׂ 𖦹 here's an angsty dean blurb that i couldn't get out of my head <3 miss my baby smookums s'much.

warning(s) smut | strong language | situationship | angst | s1 DEAN | abandonment | self loathing. ୨୧ eighteen plus! adult content | minors do NOT interact.

　　　ꢾ꣒　　 ⑅　　 ⁺　 　₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎　　 ✺ LIBRARY.

★ bonus. divider creds @anitalenia !

it wasn't supposed to be like this with dean. casual was what you both strictly agreed on — no strings attached, no feelings involved. just two hunters finding respite in each other whenever paths crossed. that was the deal.

but here you are, straddling him in another stuffy motel room, his calloused hands gripping your hips as you ride him slowly. the dim lamplight casts shadows across his freckled face, highlighting every expression of pleasure that crosses his features. dean's breathing is ragged, green eyes half-lidded as he watches you move above him.

you lean down, pressing your palms against his rough ones, intertwining your fingers together. the new angle makes him groan, head throwing back against the pillow. his grip on your hands tightens, and you can feel the trembling in his muscles as he fights to maintain control.

"fuck," he breathes out, voice wrecked. "you feel so good, sweetheart. s'perfect..."

you increase your pace slightly, watching as he falls apart underneath you. DEAN WINCHESTER — the notorious hunter, the man who's faced down demons and monsters — coming undone by your touch alone. his walls are down completely, vulnerability written across his face in a way you've never seen before.

that's when it happens.

"i love you," he gasps out, the words tumbling from his lips before he can stop them.

you freeze mid-movement, staring down at him with wide eyes. the confession hangs heavy in the air between you, and you watch as realization dawns on his face. dean's hands suddenly release yours, gripping the cheap motel sheets instead, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip.

"what?" your voice is barely above a whisper.

he won't meet your eyes anymore, jaw clenched tight as he stares at some point over your shoulder. the silence stretches on, broken only by your shared breathing and the distant sound of traffic outside. you're still connected intimately, but the moment has shifted into something else entirely — something neither of you were prepared for.

without warning, his hands move to your waist. those strong arms that you've admired countless times before easily lift you off of him, setting you gently on the bed beside him. you watch as he sits up, running a hand through his disheveled spiky hair before reaching down to grab his discarded boxers from the floor.

"dean, hold up—" you start, but he's already heading for the bathroom, not looking back as he closes the door with a soft click.

you lie there in the silence, staring up at the water-stained ceiling. your mind replays his words over and over, trying to make sense of what just happened. dean winchester loves you.

DEAN WINCHESTER — who keeps everyone at arm's length, who builds walls higher than heaven itself — just confessed his love for you in the most vulnerable moment possible.

and you? you don't know what to feel. this wasn't part of the plan. feelings weren't supposed to enter the equation, but here they are, complicated and messy and real.

you can hear him moving around in the bathroom, probably trying to compose himself. knowing dean, he's probably gripping the sink, staring at his reflection, and beating himself up over his slip of the tongue. that's just who he is — taking every perceived failure and turning it into self-loathing.

the thought of facing this conversation, of dealing with the aftermath of those three beautiful words, suddenly feels overwhelming. you slip out of the bed, quickly gathering your scattered clothes and pulling them on. your hands are shaking slightly as you find a piece of paper and pen from the motel's complimentary notepad.

that's all you write before placing it on the rumpled bed. it's cowardly, you know it is, but you can't face him right now. not when everything is so confused and tangled in your mind.

you're just closing the motel room door when you hear the bathroom door open. you don't stay to see his reaction, but you can picture it perfectly — dean walking out, preparing himself to bare his soul to you, only to find an empty room and a note in your place.

you know it'll hurt him. know that he'll blame himself, add it to the long list of things he carries on his shoulders. but you can't give him what he wants right now, can't pretend those words didn't change everything.

as you walk to your car, you can almost hear him in that room — probably throwing something in frustration, cursing himself for ruining what you had. classic dean winchester, turning his pain inward, letting it eat at him.

but sometimes running is easier than staying, even when you know it'll leave scars on both of you that might never fully heal.

[what-if-i-just-did]

Part One

Trigger Warnings: kissing, implied feeling unworthy of love, and mentions of a handjob, having a nightmare, sexual attraction, and casual suicidal ideation

(this is not smut)

(Is this over a year late? Yes. Am I finishing it anyways? Also yes.)

Space For Two

Dean was lying in bed. When they came home, Sam had had a bit of a freak out. It was fine now- Jody had texted with a hunt, and Sam decided to go it alone and leave Dean and Cas to figure themselves out. They'd been practicing with switching control and co-piloting, and if that had ended up with Cas giving Dean a handjob while they were in the same body, then, well, that was their business.

Maybe it had been smart of Sam to leave.

Dean sighed. Cas? Yes Dean? (what does he want?) (He's so adorable) I can't sleep. I miss you. (I know he's right here but I want to kiss him and I can't even if I'm allowed now) I know, Dean. I wish to kiss you too. Dean sighed. (I miss you so much right now) (wait a second- ) If I dream, can you come into the dream too? (can we kiss? please please please tell me yes) Yes! Yes, we can- we can kiss. In your dream- how did I not think of that before? Yes Dean, yes. Elation radiated off of them, indiscernible who from. (I get to kiss Cas I get to kiss Cas I get to kiss Cas) (holy shiiiit) (fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck) (yesyesyesyesyesyes) (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) (Dean is so exitable-adorable-exited-happy... I did that) okay okay okay I need to freakin' sleep then. (wait no way I can now) can you mojo me asleep? Of course, Dean. And the next second, they were in a dream. It was Purgatory, and Dean was gripped with a sense of instunctual fight-or-flight. Of course. Of-fucking-course is it a nightmare (does he have nightmares often?) Don't worry, Dean.

The scene changed. It was a forrest lake, now. Dean turned around just in time to see Cas morph into existance. "Cas!" He yelled, running the two steps towards him and smashing his lips into his. (CasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasI'mKissingCassssss) (He smells the same he looks the same (still pretty) (he still looks like Jimmy Novak) he feels the same he's the same I love him so much) (Dean Winchester wants to kiss me / is kissing me) "Cas" Dean breathed. "Dean", Cas breathed back.

"This is weird. I still have your thoughts, but I can see you." Jezus Cas I missed you.

I love you

"Hello, Dean."

(ohmyfucks his voice is so hot I wanna die) (it's still the same voice- still Jimmy Novak) (I get to fucking have this? I get to kiss-him/love-him????)

Cas raised his eyebrow and tilted his head. "This voice is attractive to you?"

"Uhm." Dean stared at him. (that expression is too) (YES!!?! Duh???!)

Cas chuckled.

I can definetly experiment with that...

[thepunkmuppet]

dean’s siren representing “the perfect brother” FUCKING BEHAVE HAHAAAAA WHAT EVEN I’M ACTUALLY LAUGHING SO HARD EVEN THE WRITERS WERE IN DENIAL

[sirlancenotalot]

[kacievvbbbb]

You know what? the best supernatural spin off would have nothing to do with the Winchesters and instead would be about Samuel motherfucking Colt because dude absolutely had something going on. And was tripping absolute balls all the fucking time

Dude not only builds a literal kills almost all gun (that no one knows how it works exactly), he also built a fucking devil’s gate and the series of railroad tracks that formed a giant devils trap in the middle of fucking nowhere Wyoming that was somehow also a great fucking hotspot to talk with Lucifer in the cage. Why the fuck would he build a devil’s gate and then the devil trap protecting it? Why could this dude not be normal? Not to mention He also fought a Phoenix!!! A Phoenix! The only Phoenix that has ever been reported to exist and whose ashes are the only thing that can kill the literal mother of all monsters. Which he somehow mails to Sam and Dean in the future using a phone from several years in the future that he literally just got earlier that afternoon.

Dude was on some serious shit. Man was definitely receiving the most violently random prophetic visions from god. Dude literally went, it came to me in a dream and built a weapon that’s literally still confounding people generations later and would function as a key to a fucking devils gate that would literally be the first step in so much shit going down in so little time generations later . Wouldn’t have even surprised me if they also said he was responsible for Ruby’s knife.

He also, most importantly, is from the wild wild fucking west!!! How cool would a show about that be? A fucking genius inventor hunts monsters in the Wild West while some being he knows nothing about but deeply suspects is giving him blueprints for big, wild things and weapons for how to stop them, or at least slow them down.

[sammygender]

i’ve never been as angry on behalf of a character as i am for sam winchester

[sunforgrace]

you guys please understand they were going to say “CASTIEL’S PERSONAL HEAVEN” and paper the walls like a teen girls room with pictures of dean pictures of dean’s face PLASTERED onto the bodies of beefcakes all while cheek to cheek blares out. as brought to you by fucking metatron

[insanesonofabitch]

8x10 Torn & Frayed one line schedule | 8x11 LARP & The Real Girl production draft script | 8x09 Citizen Fang | 8x10 Torn & Frayed transcript | 9x08 Rock and a Hard Place

Good fucking morning.

[quietwingsinthesky]

Dean is such a paradox for me because on the one hand, I have been actively triggered by him in the show, there are moments where, intentionally or not, the writers managed to create a portrayal of manipulation and abuse and control issues that it sets off actual alarms for me. And on the other hand, I would not have him any other way. There is something — not comforting, that’s too soft a word — about knowing where Dean’s actions stem from, having seen and learned all that we do about his childhood neglect and parentification and the trauma he goes through repeatedly in the show, and that he doesn’t come out clean. He comes out a goddamn mess who ends up hurting the people around him in reaction to his own pain!

There’s a reality there that’s. Almost nice, actually. Distressing to watch, but it is a fucking mess, it’s a good mess! He’s got zero healthy coping skills and a healthy relationship with say, his brother, is terrifying because it leaves him open to abandonment!

I’m not sure I’m wording this correctly. There is a way to be a good abuse victim. Take the pain, martyr yourself on it, and then, even if you have no support or idea how to, then you have to become a Good Person who never hurts anyone the way you have been learning to your entire life. Simply toss everything that shaped you out the door and emerge a saint with a tragic backstory. And Dean is not that. And that’s so fucking good. Everything that he has gone through continues to effect the way he treats the people around him, and he can’t fight the behaviors he might recognize as harmful because he also sees them as protecting him (or protecting Sam by keeping Sam with him.)

And sometimes, idk. It feels good to see a guy who didn’t heal the “right way.” Who mostly didn’t heal at all, just keeps the wound open because it’s easier that way.

[incesthemes]

i can't stop thinking about the first episode of season 6, when sam tries to convince dean to come with him, to come back to hunting. he says "it's just better with you around, that's all." it's an interesting line because sam is soulless, obviously. and even though he doesn't understand the details yet, he knows something's wrong with him.

"it's better with you around" he says, citing dean's compassion and care for others as the reason why. and how interesting is that? sam's working with plenty of other hunters who still have their souls—they're all more than capable of caring about the people they save. but sam needs dean specifically. he knows he's missing something, and he sees dean and recognizes that something in him. even cold and calculating and unrelentingly logical, sam recognizes that dean, alone, can "complete" him, give something back to him that he's supposed to have.

in episode 8 he tells dean he "needs his help." he doesn't elaborate; he never explains what he means by that. he has a whole family of hunters who'd be willing and able to help him, but still he needs dean. even without his soul, his hyperrational mind knows he needs him.

soulless sam isn't capable of caring about dean. but he doesn't need to care to know they need to be together, no matter what—to know dean is good for him, dean completes him, dean needs to be there for him.

it's like a sick reversal of season 1. sam drags dean back into this life because he can't keep going without him. because he needs him. because when you think about it logically, and sam has no other choice, there was never any other option for them.

[jackklinemybeloved]

I know it’s been said but I can’t stop thinking about chuck saying his next book is “a little Vonnegut” in 4x18 and dean going “slaughterhouse five Vonnegut or cat’s cradle Vonnegut?”

like imagine you write two dozen paperbacks about Dean Fucking Winchester of all people and then he hits you with “oh you mean the war ptsd one or the daddy issues one?” what do you even say to that. how do you respond with a straight face.