#Dean x Cassie

[dean-is-love]

dean and cassie doing their nails and being bisexual

[winchestergifs]

This is a better goodbye than last time.

[louisbxne]

DEAN & CASSIE

Supernatural 1.13 | Route 666

[zepskies]

I saw somewhere that Dean wouldn’t date a black girl. Which is crazy because his ex was black and they had sex in season 1. Dean for sure definitely likes him a black woman. Hell he likes any type of woman

Hey anon!

Ugh, the way you know racism is still alive and well, even in fandom. 🙄 The idea that he "wouldn't date a black girl" is just plain ridiculous, and it upsets me for many reasons, being a Latina POC myself.

To start, they introduced Cassie Robinson as the one person Dean tried to entrust the "family secret" to --

AKA: the first girl he genuinely loved. A smart, fearless, badass woman not afraid to call out indiscretions and fight for the truth about her father's murder.

As a matter of fact, that entire episode (1x13) was about interracial couples, systematic racism, and breaking the cycle of social segregation, as symbolized through the Cassie x Dean relationship.

As for Dean and Cassie themselves, they had incredible chemistry. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 To the point where I still think about the song playing during their steamy scene together ("Paradise" by Sharif), and I still use some of the Dean x Cassie gifs for my reader stories:

(And more about your "Dean likes any type of woman" comment below, because I definitely agree.)

They had a beautiful and tragic "weren't meant to be" story, but it doesn't take away from the love they had for each other and being one of the few meaningful, genuine romantic connections Dean had on the show.

"Dean likes any type of woman":

Very much agree! Dean doesn't discriminate, not with race, ethnicity, or body type. We've seen him hit on just about any lovely lady loll, from his love of Busty Asian Beauties, or when he tried to hit on Kali in season 5. 😂

When Donna tells Sam and Dean her husband said she loved chocolate chip cookie dough milkshakes more than him, I believe Dean immediately called him a douchebag, no hesitation. He supported her like this more than once.

And let's not forget this exchange in 9.13, when talking to a victim's loved one who had an affair with a heftier man:

Mala: “What can I say? Sometimes it’s nice to feel a little give.”

Dean *has an epiphany*: “Oh. Yeah, I get that. A little extra cushion for the, uh…” *fist pounding motion* (lmfao)

Hell, I've written an entire series about why Dean would be attracted to, and fall for, a POC plus-sized Latina. It's called the Midnight Espresso series.

All that being said, anyone who says Dean doesn't like or wouldn't date black women, other women of color, or certain body types is projecting their own narrow-minded, prejudiced, and/or potentially bigoted ideals. 🙅🏽‍♀️

[isthataraccoon]

when he pins someone to a wall on your behalf >>>> 🥰🥰🤭🤭🤭

[clairedelune-13]

“Dean isn’t gay”

True. He likes both coffee and tea.

[catapparently]

Hold Me Through the Darker Times

AO3 LINK • MASTERLIST

dean x cassie In which there's a power outage and Dean gets flashbacks. Cassie gives him his well-deserved cuddles. Note: this fic is amongst my first ever written, and the writing is not to my taste. It might get rewritten soon.

I sat on the edge of the pool, staring down at the outline of the crime scene recreation at the bottom. The fake blood, painted on the tiles to look as realistic as possible, glistened under the soft pool lights. The water felt cool against my bare ankles and feet, swirling every time the sharp autumn breezed brushed over the surface.

My thoughts drifted off to Dean and his father. He keeps saying that he’s fine, though he’s clearly not. Sloane, who stays up late working on her dangerous and definitely not legal projects, told me that Dean hasn’t been sleeping too much lately. She hears footsteps from his room in the dead of night, often followed by constant clanking and banging. Then, bundled up in many layers of clothes, he stays on the balcony or at the kitchen table for hours, lost in thought, lighting a single candle.

I knew that Dean has some mental blockage with the darkness and very early mornings. One day, we came back to the safe house very late from an investigation with Agent Sterling. It was nearly midnight. He was oddly jittery, and he was a bit clingier than usual, not wanting to let go of my hand. He’d avoided Sterling like the plague.

Suddenly, my blood froze in my veins as all the lights went off. Even the faint humming of the electricity in the walls disappeared. It was eerily silent, so silent I’d heard the strange sounds of furniture being moved in the rooms upstairs. Dean’s room.

I quickly got up from my seat on the edge of the pool and carefully made my way back inside the safe house, keeping an arm in front of me to feel the familiar furniture and hallways under my fingertips. I couldn’t see a thing and, surely, neither could Dean.

I passed the infamous wall of portraits and soon found myself in front of Dean’s door. They’d called the portraits on the wall a “reminder”, a reminder of what we were here for. When Lia had first welcomed me at my arrival, she said that it was especially “for Dean”. What did that mean? Surely she knew about his past. We all did. Why would he need yet another reminder of who his father, whose portrait was at the top, is? It angered me, a scarlet red blazing fury making me want to tear them all down, so scarlet it was maroon.

I hesitated in front of his door. Should I knock or just barge in? I finally decided and slowly turned the doorknob, intentionally making noise so that Dean would be fully aware someone was there.

I gently stepped into his dark room and was met with the sound of short, shaky breaths that could be heard from a far corner. “Dean. It’s me, Cassie,” I whispered into the room.

I had to make sure that he knew it was me, lest I would have to handle a panic attack from him. He still had terrible nightmares from back in the day when Daniel made him watch and listen to all the murders and tortures he committed, and Dean was still not over it. How could anyone be? He was a child. A child.

He’d pushed his bed snug in the corner of the room and was sitting where the walls met, cuddled up between large pillows and blankets and clutching his legs tightly to his chest. It seemed as though he’d made his own fortress to keep him safe… from Daniel Redding. From a Veronica Sterling. From every single part of his past that still tormented him, even to this day. He wasn’t to blame. Who could possibly forget and move on from all of that? Especially when it was your own father? Your own flesh and blood, the one who sets you forward into his legacy.

There was no electricity. No light, no sound. No warmth. It must have reminded him of back then. I didn’t even need to profile him to deduce it. No, one night, by the lake, he’d told me, bit by bit, the tales of his childhood with his father. Through silent tears and shaky tremors he’d relived everything, from the way he carved his initial into Sterling’s arm to the way he could still hear the screams and wails of the victims, all staring at his frozen form, traumatized and wide-eyed, hoping for some sort of help. He cried, like never before.

I waddled over to the side of his bed and sat down, trying to not re-balance the mattress too much. I crawled over beside him and pulled him closer into my arms with slower, cautious movements, making sure not to startle him.

Dean buried his teary-eyed face in the crook of my neck, his lips softly grazing my pulse, making sure I’m really there and alive. That I didn’t end up like them. His breathing had slowed, gentle warm puffs blowing on my neck. I could feel his gentle, atrociously long eyelashes brushing against my jawline, and half of my face was buried in his fluffy tufts of blonde hair.

I gently kissed his hairline and cradled the back of his head, murmuring softly into his ear. “It’s just a power outage, Dean. Agent Sterling is somewhere down the hall in her chambers. I’m here. We’re all here; Michael, Lia, Sloane… I’m sure that Sloane, craving opportunities to take apart something, is already working on getting the power back before the electricity guys make it to our block. Breathe, Dean.”

It was incredibly sweet how he was leaning on me but making sure not to shift too much weight onto me to not crush my body. He always treated his things with such gentleness and care.

I caressed the higher part of his back, my palm going in slow, comforting circles. Dean carefully pressed his lips to the underside of my jaw. “Thank you, Cassie. I love you more than anything in the world.”

[boundsoffateandfamily]

There's nothing left alive But a pair of glassy eyes Raise my feelings one more time

Dean/Cassie + Dean&John // Gimme Danger by the Stooges

[celestialstarlight27]

Can we talk about how amazing 1x13 is?

Dean’s relationship with Cassie reveals so much about his character, about who he is under the persona he projects. Meanwhile, Sam is having the time of his life teasing Dean about their relationship. Cassie is strong-willed and determined but soft and compassionate too - she’s such a great fit for Dean. It’s totally believable that she’s the first person he really fell in love with.

And in terms of the episode themes, 1x13 is one of the only episodes in all of Supernatural that very directly confronts the legacy of racism - it’s important to the entire plot. It’s also one of the only episodes where Dean is romantically involved with a woman of color.

So much care and thought and awareness went into making that episode. It blew me away the first time I watched it.

[envydean]

Followed a van today that said Dean Robinson and imagined if Dean and Cassie stayed together Dean could have taken her name and let go of the horrors that came with being a Winchester

[360iris]

Um sorry!??? Who was gonna remind me Supernatural season 1 episode 13 was so juicy?????

Not me kicking my feet at Dean arguing then kissing the girl he knows he can’t actually build a future with

And also, up until this point he’s been Mr Macho, never really wants to get down to the center of his feelings and then he’s back in Cassie’s sphere and he’s all nerves??

This episode we even get the first Dean spicy scene of the series. I’m eating this up rn

[winchestergifs]

Don't go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it.

[lacilou]

Screw you, TikTok. I'll just post my "violation of community guidelines" edit here.

Dean & Cassie, What Should Have Been

[fangirlingwhileblacktarot]

And No, I did NOT miss this Jensen Ackles/ Dean Winchester easter egg *cue dramatic reveal music*

THE fact that Jensen's character works with a beautiful black women with curly/wavy hair who investigates crime, and her name is CASSIE.🙃 (Not to mention He calls her Cas, as well.). The universe throws you a fresh baked chocolate chip cookie once in awhile.😊

Come the phuck on!! This ain't no coincidence, yo. (Even though they're aiming him toward Jenny....) *SCREAMS IN MY SHIP IS NEVER DEAD*

[isthataraccoon]

just finished killer instinct (the naturals book 2) and I would already kill for dean and cassie I love them so muchhhhhh

[samsexualdeancurious]

Poison Paradise (NSFW)

Pairing: Dean x Cassie

Words: 1,578

Summary: Fighting and fucking. That's what they do best.

Warnings: pegging, sub/bottom!Dean, dom/top!Cassie, bad communication but hot sex so

A/N: I rewatched Route 666 recently for my podcast and this happened, lol. Also, the title is from Britney Spears' "Toxic" cos it came on while I was writing and wow that song fits these two xD

---

Dean’s not even sure what they’re fighting about anymore but it was probably something big that got pushed down and down until something small cracked the surface and everything spilled over. Fighting always leads to great things, though, like Cassie’s nail digging into Dean’s scalp, sending pricks of pleasure-pain through him. Her mouth is hot and wet against his and he wants so badly to push her to her knees but he’s not in charge here. He never has been when it comes to Cassie and that knowledge makes his cock twitch where it’s still trapped within the confines of his jeans.

She pulls away abruptly, one hand under his jaw and the other gripping the back of his neck to hold him in place. Her eyes are dark and dangerous, and Dean’s breath catches.

“Strip and get on the bed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She releases him and Dean staggers back, landing hard on the mattress when his legs hit the edge. He looks up to see Cassie watching him expectantly, one brow raised. That’s enough to get him moving. T-shirt, jeans, and boxers are all tossed toward the hamper.

With Dean suitably occupied, Cassie moves around to the other side of the bed and Dean hears the telltale sound of her toy box sliding across the floor. He shivers, bent over to pull off his socks. When he turns to climb up onto the bed, he’s greeted with the sight of Cassie’s strap-on harness neatly arranged on the bedspread while she strips.

Dean settles onto all fours and is rewarded with a murmured “Good boy” for his initiative. He keeps his eyes locked on the bedspread, though he really wants to peek.

Finally, the mattress shifts behind him with Cassie’s weight. Dean’s breath quickens and he feels a little ridiculous about how turned on he is. She hasn’t even touched him yet but his cock is throbbing between his thighs.

Despite knowing it’s coming, Dean still startles when Cassie’s hands land on his ass. It’s not a smack, just her palms settling on his skin, but he still jumps and shivers.

“Settle.”

Cassie’s voice slides over him, leaving no room for him to argue further. He doesn’t know who “won” their argument but if anyone asks, it was Cassie. Always Cassie.

He didn’t see the dildo Cassie picked out but the weight of it against his tailbone when she leans against him is solid and he’s pretty sure it’s the big blue one with the nubs that drive him crazy. Cassie grinds her hips forward, letting the toy run across his dry hole, and this suspicion is confirmed immediately.

“You drive me fucking insane,” she says, low and filthy as her fingers curl around his hips. “If you’re going to act like a brat, I’m going to treat you like one. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“I don’t cum until you say,” Dean answers obediently, quickly tacking a “ma’am” on the end when he realizes he forgot. She doesn’t call him on it, thankfully.

“See, you can listen. I never would have guessed.” Her palm strikes hard across his ass, a crack in the quiet of her little studio apartment and a stinging pain that goes right to his dick. “Get the lube.”

Dean stretches to grab it from the top bedside drawer without shifting too far from his chosen spot. He returns to his position, bringing one hand around to rest in the small of his back and offer up the lube. She accepts it without a word. He hears the snap of the bottle opening and closing. The substance is cold when dripped from her fingers to his hole but Dean suppresses his shiver.

Cassie’s fingers are slender and he easily takes two right away with minimal burn. A groan pulls itself from his chest and his head drops between his shoulders. When he looks back beneath his body, he can see Casse’s skinny knees between his spread ones, and there, impossibly blue against the silky-smooth skin of her thighs, is the exact dildo he’d guess she grabbed. It’s about the same size as his own hard-on, a fact that makes his dick twitch and his body clench around Cassie’s fingers.

“Relax. Let me in.”

Dean takes a deep breath and nods, tilting his hips to invite her deeper. Her fingertips stroke just above his sweet spot and his eyelids flutter.

“Cassie, please-”

“Hush. Not yet.”

Groaning, Dean falls silent and listens to her murmur of praise. He hears the lube open again. When it snaps closed, the filthy wet sound that follows can only be Cassie stroking her cock. A third finger pushes past his rim, twisting deep and purposefully avoiding his prostate, and Dean makes a soft noise of complaint at the teasing but doesn’t protest past that. If he wants to get her cock inside him at any point tonight, he has to be patient.

Luckily, Cassie isn’t going to make him wait too much longer. “Pretty,” she’s saying softly. “Think you’re ready for me?”

The prep was quick but Dean is relaxing further into submission with each pump of her hand and he knows he can take her.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers, stumbling over his words when her middle finger finally skates over his prostate.

“Beg me for it.”

Dean bites back a whine at those words. Spoken so calmly, like Cassie doesn’t have three fingers knuckle-deep in her boyfriend’s ass. He doesn’t know how she stays so calm when he’s falling apart beneath her hands.

“Please.” The word is barely more than a whisper, pulled from him by her pulling her fingers free. His body clenches around nothing, hungry for something more, and something in him cracks, desperation slipping through. “Cassie, please, I want - I need you cock. Please, fuck me. I’ll be so good for you, I’ll do whatever you want-”

“Shhh.” The hard silicone of the toy presses against his fluttering hole, not pressing in yet but the promise is there. “Shoulders down.”

Dean obeys without hesitation, dropping his chest to the bed and pillowing his head on his folded arms. His back arches and he feels so exposed like this, ass in the air with his girlfriend’s lube-slick strap-on teasing his entrance. His cock throbs at the thought of the sight he must make.

“You should see yourself,” Cassie says, wiping her hand on the sheets and running it from the center of his shoulders to the small of his back, then up again. She presses her palm right between his shoulder blades. She’s so small that he could push her off easily if he wanted to but he doesn’t want to. The weight of her is solid, reassuring and steadying him as the fat head of her cock pushes past his rim.

Dean lets out a breathy sound he’ll deny later, fingers digging into the sheets beneath his head, and Cassie sinks in nice and slow. She takes her sweet time, letting him feel every bump and ridge of the fake cock. It splits him open wide. By the time her narrow hips meet his ass, Dean’s sure he can feel the toy in the back of his throat.

“All the way in.” She curls over his back, long curls falling around her shoulders to tickle his back. “No one would ever imagine, would they? That big, bad, leather jacket-wearing, muscle car driving Dean Winchester takes my cock so beautifully. But you do, don’t you, Dean? You’re terrible at listening but this, you’re good at.”

Dean can’t respond. He’s too busy focusing on his breathing and the tightening of his balls. He can’t cum. He’s not allowed to.

“Doing such a good job.” Cassie sits up and palms his ass, spreading him further for her hungry gaze before she pulls back and slams in deep. “Gonna make sure you’re walking funny tomorrow, Winchester.”

They may not be great at this relationship stuff but Dean knows Cassie keeps her promises, especially ones like that. Sure enough, she barely gives him time to adjust before she starts fucking him hard and fast. Dean’s face burns and his mouth hangs open as he’s rocked by each thrust, the breath knocked from his lungs by each drive of her hips against his body. She’s small and strong, well-practiced at fucking shitty boyfriends the way they deserve and Dean knows he deserves it.

She knows he loves it.

“You can cum,” Cassie purrs, sliding her hand up his neck to grip a handful of his hair and yank his head back. He’s started letting it grow out a little and this is a definite upside that he decides in that moment. “But you have to do it on my cock.”

Oh, yeah. That’s not going to be an issue at all.

--

“We were always pretty good at fighting,” Cassie will say further down the road, when they’ve parted ways and found their way back together temporarily. When they’re pressed together in bed, naked inside and out, finally saying the things they should have said long ago but never did. She’ll gesture to their bodies and continue with, “This we were good at.”

Fighting and fucking, Dean will think and know she’s right. She may be the first person he’s opened up to outside of Sam but that doesn’t mean he was ever very good at it. Neither was she, for that matter.

Fighting and fucking, though. That they can do.

—

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