#ask dean

[hakusins]

a toastie for u

[hellverse]

obviously cas looked at being loved as being useful, being a weapon. of course he perceived dean needing him as being useful to him, saw that as love. how else could he see it? heaven didn’t breed angels full of human love, they made angels full of weaponised love, ones that lived as necessities, tools, reviving love laced praise for doing what they’re told

[hinamie]

surprise it's yuri!!!in 2024

[teeglass]

tell me this isnt exactly supernatural s6

[antisocialpyromaniac]

[phantomofagoodtime]

[ INTERVENE ]:     sender surprises the departing receiver by intervening before they leave, in the hopes of changing their mind.

[Rebecca Byrd (@beatenxnotxbroken) and Dean Winchester? :D Also hi! <3]

“Hey-come on! It’s cold as balls out there.” Dean said in a hurried tone as he grasped hold of her wrist trying to convince her to stay just a bit longer. His expression relaxed for once but there was concern hidden beneath it all. “-are you in that much of a hurry to get outta here? - Sam don’t stink that bad.” He joked before clearing his throat, attempting a more serious tone now. “I mean, you can stay longer. If that’s what you want?” He released his grip on her wrist, despite his inner fear of letting anyone go again, he also knew that he couldn’t hold her down by force even if he tried.

@w0efulsoul

[treevore]

i love u characters who are victims who don't show things in a way that's appealing i love u characters whos trauma leaves them with anger issues, with violence issues, with issues with connection and trust and being truthful i love you characters who don't get "better" in a way that's palatable, who don't find growth and meaning in their trauma

[the-mpreg-guy]

on a realer note i do think people forget that a huge part of the destiel equation is that cas won’t stay. like yeah we focus a lot on the fact that dean won’t ask him to, but cas never sticking around is a huge factor there

[bhguardians]

Dean.. What is your shoe sz?

"Wouldn't you like to know," Dean teased with a sly little grin.

[jibberjibbsart]

Supernatural “Power Hour” Part 12

Steven is here to save the day!!!…. Who are we kidding, Dean is too self sacrificing to let anyone else risk their life!

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[sw33tm0urningl4mb]

Deep/Fun Questions to Ask!

Do you like watching sunsets?

Have you ever started a rumor?

What makes you laugh hard?

What's the last concert you went to?

If you believed in it, what would you be reincarnated to?

What's your current vocal stim?

What shirt are you wearing?

Who or what is on your mind?

What are your favorite pair of shoes?

What would easily win you over if someone gave you it?

What three words describe you?

What's a funny memory you have?

Do you have any drunk stories?

What's one thing you own that you're sure no one else has?

Do you have any superstitions?

What is your guilty pleasure?

What weird thing do you do when you're alone?

What is the worst food you've ever had?

What fictional character would you bring to life if you could?

If you could join a career immediately, what would it be?

What keeps you going during the day?

Current song on repeat?

Funniest inside joke?

What's your favorite piece of jewelry you own?

Favorite niche topic?

What fandom are you currently in?

Most controversial take?

Favorite ship and why?

Do you have any piercings or tattoos, and what are they?

What is your worst & best quality?

[hakusins]

If male Jordan looks female does female Jordan look like a male? … (let me fuck em both)

unfortunately anon you'll have to get in line - there's already someone by jordan's side and he ain't the sharing type

but on f!jordan design!! I actually didn't think much when making m!jordan cause i was just thinking of what my oc's type would be (pretty men) HBREHBFJHBERF but if i were to view f!jordan, it would just be m!jordan design but female? so they'd look something like this:

BUT YOU DID give me the Thought of .... short haired f!jordan so you also get a bonus brainrot doodle from yours truly <3

but same anon - same, i want to fuck em both

[bitchslapblastoids]

did sister daniel have a lesbian situationship at her christian all girls school?

she fuckin ran through that thing like a train, you have no idea. there was nothing left.

……….my all-girls-catholic-high-school-lesbian-romance-having ass is listening intently

[wendichester]

Not sure if you take requests or suggestions but I just know you’d write the sweetest and hottest Drabble of reader wearing Dean’s brown leather jacket over lingerie as a surprise for his birthday or Christmas & he can’t help but fuck you in the impala still in his jacket because he wants it to smell like sex and he’s going crazy with you in it

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🏎️ ⋆ ۪ brown leather jacket,

summary. everything of dean's is intoxicating.

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 1133

notes. +18, implied intimacy, nudity. mdni .ᐟ + my first ever request .ᐟ i hope i did it justice (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

The first thing you ever noticed about Dean Winchester wasn’t his smile or his impossibly green eyes. It wasn’t even the sharpness of his jawline or the way his lips quirked up like he was in on a joke only he understood. No, the first thing you noticed was his jacket.

That brown leather jacket—worn, scuffed, and perfectly molded to his broad frame—caught your eye before his face ever did. He had his back to you when you walked into the room, leaning over a table with his weight resting on his arms, the jacket pulling tight across his shoulders. It was stupid, really, how something so simple could look so damn good.

Then he turned around, and that was it. Game over.

Because his face was even better than the jacket. The most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on, rugged and charming all at once. But even as you took in those piercing green eyes and that teasing smirk, your attention kept drifting back to the jacket. The way it made his shoulders seem impossibly broader, the way it accentuated the muscles in his arms as he moved. It turned you on, plain and simple.

Over time, though, it became more than that. It wasn’t just the jacket itself—it was what he did with it. The way he’d shrug it off without a second thought and drape it over your shoulders when the air turned cold. The way he’d zip it up for you, his fingers brushing your chin as the oversized sleeves swallowed your hands. Or how he’d toss it over your legs during long drives in the Impala, grumbling something about the draft.

It wasn’t just a jacket anymore. It was Dean. A little piece of him that always felt like home.

So, whenever he couldn't find it, he'd usually assume you were wearing it.

The steady sound of water splashing over the Impala is the only noise in the garage, the cold air biting at Dean’s exposed forearms as he scrubs the hood. He’s muttering to himself about stubborn spots of dirt when the distinct click of heels echoes across the concrete floor.

He straightens, wiping his hands on a rag as he turns toward the sound. His brow furrows, expecting you to be bundled up, maybe there to tease him for spending Christmas Day with his car instead of you. But when his eyes land on you, every thought in his head screeches to a halt.

You’re standing in the doorway, framed by the dim light spilling in from the hall. Black heels, legs that seem to go on forever, and his leather jacket zipped just far enough to cover you halfway. The sleek black lingerie beneath it peeks out with every subtle movement, teasing him, taunting him.

Dean’s jaw slackens as he drags his eyes over you, from the curve of your bare legs to the smirk on your lips. “What the hell…” he mutters, the cold air suddenly irrelevant.

You step forward, your heels clicking again, and his gaze tracks every movement. “Merry Christmas, Dean,” you say softly, tugging the zipper of the jacket just an inch lower.

He exhales a shaky breath, his tongue darting over his bottom lip. “Sweetheart,” he rasps, his voice thick. “If this is how you’re celebrating, I’m thinking we should start celebrating Christmas.”

You saunter closer, fingers trailing along the edge of the car. “Well, you did say you didn’t want anything,” you tease, your voice low and playful.

His lips curve into a slow, heated smile. “Would be rude to refuse a gift.”

Dean’s lips crash against yours, all heat and desperation, as his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer. The cold leather of his jacket contrasts with the searing warmth of his touch, and it’s a dizzying combination that has your knees going weak.

You don’t realize he’s steering you backward until the cool metal of the Impala’s back door presses against you. In one swift motion, he opens it and guides you down onto the seat, his broad frame hovering over you, his weight deliciously familiar.

Your fingers fumble with the zipper of the jacket, ready to peel it off, but his hand covers yours, stopping you. “Leave it,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Dean—”

“Trust me,” he cuts you off, his green eyes dark, that makes your breath hitch. His fingers trail along the edge of the jacket, pushing it open just enough to reveal the lace beneath, his gaze lingering like he’s savouring the sight.

“Looks too damn good on you,” he mutters, leaning down to kiss you again, slower this time, like he’s savouring every second.

The Impala’s leather creaks as he shifts closer, his hands exploring your curves under the jacket. “Never thought I’d love this thing more,” he whispers against your lips, his smirk making your heart race. “But on you? It’s driving me crazy, sweetheart.”

He immediately pins you down, his body fitting between your legs like he belong there. His lips are on your neck, his hands roaming your skin, tracing the contours as he kisses a trail down to your collarbone.

Dean's eyes flutter shut at the feel of your hands on his jeans, a low moan escaping his lips. The sound is almost feral as he struggles to keep his control. “You're driving me insane,” His touch is greedy, desperate even, as he explores your body like he's never touched you before.

His breath hitches, a low moan escaping his lips as your hand glides under his boxers, making contact with his skin. For all his bravado, he's completely and utterly undone by your touch, his body responding to you on a primal level.

Dean’s breathing is ragged as he presses his forehead to yours, trying to regain a shred of composure. His fingers trail reverently down the curve of your waist, tracing the edge of the jacket as though memorizing how it clings to you.

“Sweetheart,” he rasps, his voice gravelly and raw, “you have no idea what you do to me.”

You smirk, feeling him twitch in your hand. “I might have a clue,” you reply, your voice light and teasing, though your heart pounds like a drum in your chest.

Dean chuckles low in his throat, the sound vibrating through you. He leans down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You keep that up, we’re gonna fog up Baby’s windows,” he says, though there’s no regret in his tone—just a promise of more to come.

You laugh softly, your breath hot against his jaw. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

His grin turns wicked, but he doesn’t argue, as the Impala bears witness to yet another story written in heat and stolen moments.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11

[strawlessandbraless]

Possessive Castiel with a marking kink makes me feral

[chxrrylungs]

Can I present to you the idea of a wet angel with wet wings like a cat when it gets wet…

then he'd shake off like a dog