#dean + the symbolic giving of the heart

[shallowseeker]

Happy "It's-- amazing. You did-- amazing," Monday!

"It's-- amazing. You did-- amazing."

///

Do you even realize how amazing you are to me?

///

15x09 The Trap (Text Attributions// Supernatural scripts here via @spnscripthunt. Transcripts are located here via SPNWiki. Visit their Tumblr to donate.)

[incesthemes]

in provenance, the impala is depicted as quite dirty and beat-up, scuffed up and covered in mud. this is not the typical image that comes to mind when you say a man loves his car. in later seasons too, the impala tends to look shiny and new, and dean is seen performing maintenance on it pretty regularly—at least, there are many scenes that show dean taking care of it, and there are also many scenes which touch on dean's possessiveness and care for his car.

this isn't the case in season 1. season 1 dean has a beat-up hand-me-down from his dad which he loves and admires but is still willing to let it get dirty and dented and scuffed.

in season 1, the impala represents john.

based on how john talks about the car in dead man's blood, he still has a semblance of ownership over it: john gave dean the car, but he still considers it "his" in the sense that he feels entitled to judge how dean cares for it. dean, too, doesn't argue with this. in season 3, dream dean even uses this against real dean to drag out his insecurities and his abysmal self-esteem:

both john and dean agree that the impala is john's car. this makes sense because the impala is also sam and dean's literal home, or the closest to home they've ever gotten.

you have a good "home is where the heart is" kind of connection here: the impala is home, and john is the impala—john is home, john is their father, john is the thing that connects sam and dean by blood. et cetera et cetera.

so if the impala represents john, then how dean treats the impala gives the audience a lovely visual metaphor for how dean feels about john. provenance is just one episode after something wicked, where dean is finally starting to extricate himself from his father. the entire season has followed dean as he experiences betrayal after betrayal from his father, and in shadow we see evidence that he doesn't actually believe that his father will come to protect them anymore—he's effectively given up on john as someone to rely on, and he's spent the whole season separating himself from john and attaching himself to sam instead. provenance gives a nice wink and nod at this by showing the state of the impala—dean is upset with john, their relationship is crumbling, and dean doesn't know how to repair it.

one episode later john remarks on the state of the car, and one episode later dean finally defies his father for seemingly the first time.

so when dean starts destroying the impala in everybody loves a clown, what dean is actually destroying is john.

he feels angry, upset, hurt, betrayed all over again. john is dead, and his final words to his son gave him an impossible task. dean takes the crowbar to the impala right after sam corners him into another conversation about john—this is an outpouring of his emotions about him, all concentrated on the last remaining symbol of his father.

but what i think is interesting is that sam doesn't see the impala this way.

sam sees the impala as dean. the symbolism here is very, very obvious. if sam gives up on the impala, then he's metaphorically giving up on dean. and sam refuses to let dean die, so he can't let the impala die, either. to sam, the impala is dean. which necessarily means that to sam, dean is his home, as well.

which is exactly what he just chose in the season 1 finale when he picked dean over his revenge. sam spent the entire season scared to "go home," and in devil's trap he finally returns for good to his home—to dean.

and in bloodlust, the impala is fixed, and she's shining like new. from this moment on, dean shows a rather pointed possessiveness over his car.

this is also the first time dean calls the impala "baby." this is the first thing that happens after dean destroyed it in the episode prior. the dissonance gives a sense of rebirth: something happened between dean destroying the impala and dean fixing it. something happened between dean using the impala as a stand-in for his father and dean calling it his baby.

in season 2, the impala no longer represents john. john is dead, and dean killed him. "home" is no longer centered around john; their father is no longer the thing that connects sam and dean. in devil's trap they chose each other, they chose codependency, they created a relationship between them that transcends the family structure they inherited from john. john is not part of this new relationship—it's just sam and dean now, and john is dead.

dean assimilates to sam's perspective when he rebuilds the impala: his car is now an extension of himself, and he is the home that sam chose. this is now his car, not john's; he is now sam's family, not john. and throughout the first half of season 2 dean struggles with this new responsibility and what that means for him—how their codependency should work, whether or not he should try to fill john's shoes, what "home" is supposed to look like for them without john in it.

i think it's an interesting way to depict dean's emotional shift across this stretch of episodes. seasons 1 and 2 especially do a lot of great work to depict john even in his physical absence, from allegorical substitutes to his haunting presence to this, representing him through the symbol of their literal home. noticing this makes me much more emotional about the impala's role in the story, because it's a physical manifestation of the effort dean put in to become sam's home and commit to their codependent relationship. he loves his car because it's his home, and his home is where sam and dean's hearts are.

[starrylanex]

I Think He Knows - Sam Winchester.

pairing- sam w. x fem!reader; summary - inspired by miss swift’s song; warnings - nothing really, lower case intended; word count - 1,4k

———

the impala's engine rumbled beneath you as the car sped down the long, empty highway. dean was behind the wheel, as usual, focused on the road ahead, while sam sat next to him in the passenger seat, flipping through a book on ancient symbols. you sat in the back, trying to keep your thoughts in check, but it was almost impossible when sam winchester was in the car, just a few feet away.

it was ridiculous, really. the way your heart picked up speed whenever he was around, the way your eyes seemed to follow his every move, even when you tried to play it cool. sam probably had no idea how he affected you. he was always so wrapped up in the hunt, in research, in the next big case.

but lately, there had been moments—fleeting glances, subtle touches, small smiles—that made you think *maybe* he knew. maybe he could feel it too, the energy between you, the way the air seemed to hum when the two of you were close. maybe he wasn't as oblivious as you thought.

as if on cue, sam glanced up, his eyes catching yours in the rearview mirror. it was just for a second, but the look sent a rush of warmth through you, making your heart skip a beat. you quickly looked away, pretending to be interested in the passing scenery, but the way his gaze lingered made it clear that you weren't the only one feeling this.

the impala slowed as dean pulled into a small, rundown motel on the outskirts of some nowhere town. "alright, this is home for the night," dean announced, killing the engine and stretching as he got out of the car.

you followed suit, grabbing your bag from the trunk and trying to ignore the fact that your hands were shaking just a little. it was ridiculous how much sam affected you, how just being around him turned you into a bundle of nervous energy.

"two rooms," dean said, tossing you and sam each a key. "guess it's you and me tonight, sammy. sweetheart, you're on your own."

you felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment at dean's words. relief because you needed some space to collect yourself, but disappointment because part of you had hoped—well, maybe more than part of you—that you and sam would end up sharing a room.

"sounds good," sam said, though his eyes flickered toward you as he spoke, like maybe he wasn't entirely happy with the arrangement either.

the three of you made your way inside, and after a quick exchange of goodnights, you found yourself in your small, dimly lit room. the bed was lumpy, the walls were thin, and the air smelled faintly of stale cigarettes, but you didn't care. all you could think about was the way sam had looked at you back in the car, the way his gaze had lingered just a little too long.

you sighed, flopping down onto the bed and staring up at the cracked ceiling. this was getting out of hand. if you didn't do something soon, you were going to drive yourself crazy wondering if sam felt the same way you did.

meanwhile, while you dwelled in your thoughts, in the room next door, a soft ‘ow’ was heard as a brunette hunter brought a hand up to back of his head and massaged it a little, “dean what the hell,”

“you are an idiot, thats what” dean says, dropping his bag next to his bed and going down with it.

“i have no idea what you are talking about” sam mutters, glancing away from his brother’s narrowed eyes.

“have no idea my ass,” dean presses on, “if you dont do anything about your girl, someone else will and dont give me that ‘i have no idea what you are talking about’ crap again, or i swear” dean pitches up his voice to mock sam.

sam freezes, not knowing what to say or do. because dean is right, he knows that the two of you have been having these stare offs, these moments for weeks now, and dean admitting it now, made it sound even more real than feeling like it was all in his head.

“i’ll be right back” sam says, now sounding determined. he doesn’t know what he plans on doing, but he knows he needs to get it off his chest before its too late.

a knock at the door interrupted your thoughts, and your heart leaped into your throat. you knew who it was before you even answered.

when you opened the door, there stood sam, his tall frame filling the doorway. his hair was slightly tousled, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes that made your pulse quicken.

"hey," he said softly, his voice low and careful. "you mind if i come in for a minute?"

you nodded, stepping aside to let him in. he walked in slowly, his hands shoved into the pockets of his flannel shirt, like he was trying to play it cool. but you could see it in his eyes, in the tension in his shoulders—he was feeling it too.

"what's up?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, even though your heart was pounding.

sam didn't answer right away. instead, he moved to stand by the window, looking out at the dark, empty parking lot. for a moment, you thought he was going to say something about the case, or ask you for help with research—something safe, something normal. but then he turned around, and the look in his eyes was anything but normal.

"i've been thinking," he started, his voice still soft, but there was an intensity behind it now. "about... us."

your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your pulse racing in your ears. *us.* the word hung in the air between you, heavy with all the unspoken feelings you'd been trying to ignore for weeks.

"sam—"

"I think you know," he interrupted, taking a step closer. his eyes locked onto yours, and suddenly, there was no space between you, no distance to hide behind. "i think you've known for a while now."

you swallowed hard, trying to keep your cool, but it was useless. the way he was looking at you—the way his eyes traced your face, the way his voice had dropped to a near whisper—it was overwhelming.

"what do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

sam smiled softly, but there was something serious in his expression, something that made your stomach flip. he reached out, his hand brushing against yours, a light touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your whole body.

"you know exactly what I mean," he said, his voice low and full of meaning. "the way you look at me... the way I look at you. we've been going around it for weeks now."

your heart was racing, your mind spinning, but you couldn't look away from him. because he was right. you had known. maybe not from the very beginning, but somewhere along the way, you had realized it—that he saw you the same way you saw him.

"and now?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly as you looked up at him. "what happens now?"

sam's hand found yours, his fingers lacing through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. he smiled, that soft, almost shy smile with dimples that made your heart melt.

"now," he said, stepping closer until there was no space left between you, "we stop pretending."

before you could say another word, sam leaned in, grabbing your jaw, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that felt both familiar and brand new. your heart soared as you kissed him back, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

when you finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, sam rested his forehead against yours, his fingers still intertwined with yours.

"i think i knew," you whispered, your voice light and teasing, even though your heart was pounding in your chest.

aam chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. "yeah. i think i knew too."

and in that moment, with sam's hand in yours and the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted, everything felt right. you didn't have to wonder anymore. you didn't have to pretend.

because now, you both knew.

[1lizard-onemonkey]

I made mention before of the gates, but they could still be two different gates

The first is at the front of the school

The second is close to the hide out or in view of it

But i want to talk about the design of the second gate

It's similar to the logo (that's what it's called, right?)

But in place of the wings, they look to be tentacles

At first I thought it was wings on a down stroke or something, but no, those are tentacles, there's eight of them

So between the logo, a combination of Annabel's Spectre and probably Lenore's (it'll be a big surprise if she doesn't have wings in some way) and the metalwork of the gate, which could be based of the Deans, it just adds another connection between the four, or maybe give some insight into who the Deans are? Maybe foreshadowing? Or is it just a cool looking gate? Maybe hearts are just an important symbol in the story so there'll be a bunch of images of them? We'll see

[swifty-fox]

What did you think of The Bikeriders?

omg Im a lilll drunk so.

SPOILER FREE REVIEW:

I honestly think its the best movie I've seen since Green Knight. The sound design is phenomenal, the soundtrack is deeply immersive. I think (not sure) they used real film so it had that lovely 60's grain and bloom that made me feel like I was watching a documentary more than anything else. I think the plot was clear and concise and enjoyable without being overcomplicated or trying to make any sort of broad statements. It knew what it was and it did it well.

Jodie Comer/Kathy was PHENOMINAL!!! She was funny qitty, she made me Feel like she was a 60's housewife in Chicago. The accent was flawless, her hair and wardrobe reminded me of my grandma (in the best sort of way) and you really feel for her and connect with her the entire time. Her facial expressions had me laughing several times.

Tom Hardy/Johnny was wonderful of course, it's Tom hardy. he nails the accent, honestly everybody did. And like. It's Tom Hardy man. He acts like he wants to fuck whoever he's talking to its his signature. but he plays the sensitive biker so well, he was great in every scene he was in and It felt like watching an aging lion with his pride. This bittersweet melancholy colored with utmost respect. i won't give spoilers but once you watch it you'll understand.

Norman Reedus/Sonny!!!!! he wasnt in it a ton but he CRUSHED every scene he was in I was cracking up every time he opened his mouth you could just tell he was having a blast playing an absolute Bum. He's not hugely important to the plot but he was just a delight to watch.

Austin Butler/Benny was just....beautiful. It won't make sense until you watch it but he doesn't exist. but he does. but he also doesn't. He's a real man but he's symbolic of the biker spirit. We know nothing about him but we come to understand him so well. he's a tomcat who desperately wants you to scratch his head, and then he's a prize thoroughbred who will run until its heart gives out if given the chance and he wouldn't choose to be any other way. he has very few speaking lines but he OWNS every scene he's in. He's got all the sex appeal of Marlon Brando and all the bad boy charisma od James Dean. but jesus christ give this man a shower and some clean clothes. He's. hot. He's vulnerable. he's unkillable because he's a mythological figure more than a man. he takes a role that could have been deeply 2D and makes it something DELICIOUS.

My only complaint is sometimes it was hard to hear lines over the background noise/the motorcycle engines.

[deepdisireslonging]

No Cum November Part 8: Exorcism Play

Dean ramps up the challenge by handing the reigns to the Reader to control the pace. Can she manage that control, or will Dean’s stronger side overpower her?

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Warnings/Promises: SMUT, anti-demon handcuffs, exorcism play (is that a thing? It is now), edging, oral (male receiving), light degradation

Word Count: 1400

Note: Had a bit more fun with this one. Wanted to play with both Dean’s subby side, and his proud Deanmon side. Let me know your thoughts and reactions in the comments and with reblogs. Happy reading!

Part 7: Double Possession

You awoke to the sensation of being watched.

Two eyes, eclipsed with demonic black, stared down at you. The hand over your mouth muffled your scream. The other hand around your wrists controlled your thrashing until you could recognize the familiar face.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” He gently lifted his hand off your face.

“Dean?” Panting, heart racing, you hesitated inching away from him. “Are- are you alright?”

He grinned. “I am myself. It’s just contacts. You can find just about anything on the internet these days.” He leaned back, giving you room to recover. “How are you? That is- is this okay? Are you up for a little game?”

Intrigued, you sat up in your bed. “A game?”

Two pairs of cuffs landed on the sheets next to your hips. Eagerly, you started to slide back down into place, but Dean stopped you with a chuckle. Taking hold of your wrist, he tugged you to stand so he could take your place. You watched as he closed the first cuff around his wrist. Only then did you recognize the anti-demon symbols engraved into the metal. You clicked the second cuff around his wrist with shaking hands.

With another grin, Dean leaned back into the sheets. “Ready to ride the demon out of me, baby?”

You hesitated. “But, with you tied down… you-“

“I won’t be able to stop you? I know. I trust you. And even if you do cum, you’ve done so well. Taking both Sam and I, having to watch us cum without getting to orgasm. If you cum tonight, it’s alright. We start over. And we keep going till the end of the month. We’ve got a few more plans for you.” He tilted his head to get a good look at your face. “Y/N. Look at me, sweetheart.”

You did.

“You can do this. Trust me.” He wriggled. “Now take that shirt off so I can see you.”

“Who’s in charge here? You, in the cuffs, or me?” A teasing smile played at your lips as you toyed with the hem of your sleep shirt. Despite not being able to see his irises, Dean’s eyes followed your hands as they dipped under the fabric. Despite the dark contacts, his eyes still lit up as you removed your shirt, tossing it to one side. Your bottoms followed suit, making him lick his lips. “Let’s see if we can exorcise you with a bit of cardio?”

He was still clothed and arched into your reach for his shirt buttons. One by one, you slipped them through the fabric until you could see the expanse of his chest and soft tummy. His stomach contracted as you first gently ran your fingers across his skin, then grazed the same path with your fingernails. He softly whined your name as you started to undo the button and zipper on his jeans. When you dragged the fabric out of the way, and then his boxers, his member sprang up stiff against his stomach. You took it into your hand, making Dean pull on the cuffs with your slow movements. His loud groan as you twirled your thumb around the tip froze you. Maybe a gag was in order?

“Where’s Sam?”

“Out.”

“Hmm.” You slid your hand down to grip the base of his cock. “Nobody here to save you but me.”

Catching his eye, you situated yourself between his legs and began to suck him off in earnest. He writhed and twisted, trying to both push his length deeper into your mouth, and pull away to catch his breath. With your nails digging into his hips, and the cuff into his wrists, there wasn’t anywhere for him to go. So he begged. He begged for you to twirl your tongue how he liked. Begged for you to hum around him. Begged you for mercy after you quickened your pace. Begged for you to move when you slowed down too much. He knew what you were doing. You were edging him. And you were toying with his pleasure the same way that he and Sam had been teasing you all month. It made his cock twitch in your mouth with the thought.

You pulled off with a pop. “Getting close, darling?”

All he could do was nod. Through the contacts, you knew his eyes were glazed over in pleasure.

You began again, giving no mercy. Dean filled your mouth a few moments later, crying out your name. Even after you removed your mouth to kiss across his tummy, you still weren’t done. You straddled his hips, trapping his cock under your wetness. Then he understood. With him at only half-mast, you would be able to ride him with less of a chance of ruining the challenge. While still overstimulating the man trapped beneath you.

“Feeling vengeful, sweetheart?”

“Maybe just a little.”

Dean’s head fell back into your pillows. The drag of you across his length was torture so close to his release. But his cock did it’s best to stiffen again anyways. He shivered as you rose just high enough to sink down onto it. You stopped when you reached his base. On either side of his hips, your thighs quaked. If what you had planned was going to work, you would really have to focus.

“Ah, this was easier when your mouth was full, wasn’t it?”

With a start, the dark glow in Dean’s eyes sent a fearful zing through your body. It made you clench with the pseudo-danger of the scene. Especially with the way Dean’s voice remembered that growl that came with his demon days.

“What’s your plan, sweetheart? Ride the demon out of me? Make me cum so hard I see grace?” His voice cracked as you flexed your walls around him. “You’re off to a good start,” he muttered.

You took a deep breath and began to move. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus-“

Dean laughed high. “Alright. Let’s see you try.”

Where you had been controlling the pace, Dean began to match your thrusts. He snapped his hips hard, and twisting his hips to put pressure on your clit. Your chanting was interrupted. You restarted phrases and lines over and over, trying to make it through the whole exorcism. Dean continued to move. Continued to knock you off rhythm with his hips, and with his words.

“You look so good up there, sweetheart. Riding me like only you can. Like you were meant to be. I love a blowjob as much as the next guy… but watching you bounce on my cock is the best thing. How close are you? Can you feel that orgasm building?”

“Ergo- er…. ergo, draco male- oh, Dean, maledicte-“

“How bad do you want it, Y/n? You’ve been so good. What’s one orgasm? I could give you so many, and Sam wouldn’t have to know. But no, you’re our good girl, aren’t you? You won’t cum. But I bet you’re close. Bet your nipples are so hard. Squeeze your breasts for me. Wish I could touch you-“

It didn’t register that you were supposed to be in charge. You’d lost that long ago.

“Oh, God-“

“He’s not here. Keep bouncing. I’m- keep going-“

Dean’s body stiffened. His cock twitched and filled you. While Dean fought to catch his breath, you fell to one side. You shivered from head to toe, just barely short of the release Dean’s demon side had tempted you with. How much longer was this challenge? You needed to cum.”

Warm, trembling lips pressed against your forehead. “You did so good. Just a bit longer.” He breathed deeply, guiding you to calm down from your denial. “Alright. Let me outta these things.” He rattled the cuffs against your headboard.

“Maybe I want to leave you in them for a bit longer. You’re not fully exorcised yet.” You giggled under his glare. “Besides, maybe I want to sleep right here.” A yawn broke though your next words with perfect timing.

“But if I’m tied up, I can’t cuddle my good girl to sleep.”

“Very true.” You released the cuffs. Dean turned to one side, removing the contacts and placing them onto your nightstand. Then he embraced you, holding you tight and nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. “Sleep tight. And rest up. Sam’s got something planned for you soon.”

***

On the King’s Blade (King of Hell!Sam)

Series Masterlist

[scoobydoodean]

Everyone (besides the Braedens) is so annoying about Dean in 6.01. In a way, he's almost treated like some sort of exotic animal by other hunters—"the hunter who got out" is considered an impossibility in the hunting world—both from a moral perspective, and from a trauma perspective.

Bobby keeps repeating "You were out" when Dean gets mad at him and Sam for keeping Sam's resurrection a secret, and while there is obviously a loving angle in Bobby wanting Dean (someone he views as a son) to live a long life, the secret is so unapologetically cruel in the face of Dean's grief that Bobby's actions also suggest more personal motivations. This, along with Dean's demand "Good for who?" when Bobby insists he made the good choice, almost lends itself to the idea that this wasn't just about Dean. It was about something Dean symbolized for Bobby. Dean was living proof that hunters could get out, and have families, and live long lives, and this probably soothes something in Bobby as someone who lost his wife tragically right after an emotional betrayal. In "Death's Door", Bobby is implied to have had a vasectomy he never told Karen about. He was the child who ruined everything he touched according to his abusive father, and decided never to have children because of it. Bobby still grieves losing Karen, and he grieves what could have been if he hadn't let his dad get in his head. Like Bobby, Dean is also a person accused of having a corrupting touch, and Bobby is very aware of Dean's self-worth issues (2.22) and I think sees a lot of his own emotional hangups in Dean. So I think it's possible that for Bobby, seeing Dean get to be happy is something Bobby needs... for himself in a sense? While being something he wants for someone he loves, it also just... soothes something inside him, symbolically and personally.

Other characters don't react so positively to Dean as a symbol representing hunters being able to get out and overcome the tragedies that generally bring them into the life to begin with. The Campbells immediately look down on Dean for not being a hunter anymore, treating him as a greenhorn, suggesting he was never meant for the work they do (his features are too "delicate"), poking around his house like it's a zoo exhibit. Sam also joins in, mocking Dean for having golf clubs.

Samuel feigns sympathy, saying he "gets it" because Mary wanted out of the life too, but it's just a little carefully placed pathos before he launches into giving Dean the same speech Mary was likely subjected to repeatedly, telling Dean they need all hands on deck, that he has a responsibility but would rather "play golf" (which is really what shows most that Samuel has zero understanding of why Dean or his own daughter wanted normal lives).

Sam also completely switches up on Dean by the end of the episode, going from justifying keeping his resurrection a secret because Dean was happy, to saying that Dean can't be normal and should return to hunting because he's putting Lisa and Ben in danger by being with them. Of course, soulless Sam flip flops because he doesn't actually care about whether or not Dean is happy. He was going through the motions of wanting Dean to be happy because he thought it was what he should want based on his memories, and he didn't have any emotional need for his brother and therefore no reason to bother him or care that he was grieving someone who was alive. But the moment he saw Dean display the heart of a hero, rushing to try and save his neighbors when all hope was lost, he saw something that he thought would be useful—someone with a heart who might make the "rules" of how to conduct himself more clear. Dean then seemed like a useful asset.

[jackles010378]

Dean in glasses 🥵🔥

(I don't know what it is about seeing Dean wearing glasses that I find so hot 🔥 so I had to write a little fic about it, enjoy)

Y/n had always found Dean Winchester irresistible. There was something about his rugged charm and devil-may-care attitude that made her weak in the knees. The two of them had been hunting partners for years, and the chemistry between them was undeniable. But there was one thing that Y/n found particularly captivating about Dean - whenever he wore glasses.

It was a rare sight to see Dean with his glasses on. Most of the time, he preferred his sharp green eyes to be on full display. But during one particular hunt, Y/n caught a glimpse of Dean wearing his glasses as he read through a lore book. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him.

As they set out on the hunt, Y/n found herself stealing glances at Dean whenever she got the chance. His glasses added an extra layer of intensity to his already piercing gaze. Y/n couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if Dean turned that intense focus on her.

The hunt itself was challenging, as they were up against a particularly cunning creature. Y/n's mind should have been fully focused on the task at hand, but she couldn't shake the distraction that Dean in glasses presented. She found herself mesmerized by the way they balanced on the bridge of his nose, making him look even more handsome and intelligent.

As they finally cornered the creature in an abandoned warehouse, Y/n's heart raced with a mixture of fear and excitement. She knew this was their chance to put an end to the hunt, but her thoughts kept wandering back to Dean in his glasses. The tension between them was palpable.

With a burst of energy, they fought the creature with all their might. Y/n glanced over at Dean, who was a whirlwind of determination and strength. His glasses had fogged up slightly from the intensity of the fight, giving him an even more enticing appearance. After destroying the creature, Y/n couldn't resist any longer.

In a daring move, she grabbed Dean by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a searing kiss. Dean responded instantly, his own desire matching hers. The glasses clattered to the ground as they gave in to their pent-up feelings. The hunt was forgotten, replaced by a passionate connection that neither Y/n nor Dean could deny.

Afterwards, as they caught their breath and picked up their scattered gear, Y/n couldn't help but smile. She realized that Dean's glasses were just another aspect of him that made her fall even harder. And from that moment on, whenever Dean wore his glasses, Y/n couldn't help but feel a surge of desire that fueled their hunts and their undeniable connection.

And so, their hunting adventures continued, with Y/n cherishing every moment when Dean would put on his glasses - a symbol of their shared passion and the electrifying spark that kept them coming back for more.

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @tmb510 @nescavaneck

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

PAIRING : dean winchester x original female character

STORY SUMMARY : in series masterlist

CHAPTER WARNINGS : age-gap. pining. fluff. bloody dean. language. sam near death (literally). possessed sam.

A/N : sorry for the wait! i've been super busy but here's the second chapter. hope you all enjoy. check out masterlist if you missed the chapters before this!

Maricela's POV

Dean strides into the room but not with Crowley. A tall man follows behind him, eyeing me as he enters. The older Winchester stops at the foot of Sam's bed as the stranger walks to the opposite end, giving his full attention to the unconscious man.

"Who's this?" I ask, my defensiveness prominent.

"Ezekiel. He's an angel," Dean introduces. "You were right about one thing: Some ain't here to help. Another angel tried taking me out, but this one here stopped him."

I nod before inquiring, "And Crowley?"

"Still in the trunk, alive." Ezekiel places a hand on Sam's chest. Dean crosses his arms, looking skeptical of the angel. "You still able to cure things after the fall?"

"Yes, I should be, but...he's so weak."

The sound of Dean's phone ringing sparks my curiosity. He uncrosses his arms, reaching his slender fingers into his jeans pocket to retrieve the device. His brows draw together as he stares at the screen.

Without wasting another beat, he brings the phone to his ear and warily asks, "Who is this?"

I watch as Dean visibly perks at their answer. "Who is it?"

In a fleeting moment, his eyes meet mine, wordlessly mouthing 'Cas.' Relief and excitement surge through my heart, quickening its speed. He moves towards the door to take the call outside. As much as I wanted to follow and hear from my dear friend, I didn't trust the stranger enough to leave Sam alone.

"So," I break the silence once the door shuts. "Will you heal him?"

"If only it were that simple. Your friend is not doing well." He patiently spoke as if I was receiving the news for the first time.

"Yeah, I know that. That's why you're here." I respond harshly as my anxiety begins to climb. "Use the powers God literally gave you!"

"The fall has left me weak, and entangling with my brother back there did me no favors. But what strength I have left, I offer to help Sam." He pauses, taking his eyes off the youngest Winchester to look at me. "You know, others like me still believe in Castiel. There's no need to fear me."

"Oh buddy, I don't fear you. I don't trust you. There's a difference."

Before he could reply, the building began to shake. Ezekiel yanks his hand away from Sam, and a glimpse of terror emerges on his face. Though, just as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared. He scrambles to peek outside the large window as loud, frightened, and indistinct muffles erupt in the hallway. Had I not been familiar with what an angel searching for a vessel consisted of, I, too, would've believed it was an earthquake. Just then, Dean rushes back into the room.

"One of yours?" He asks.

Ezekiel turns before addressing Dean, "Trying to secure a vessel. We need to move."

"No, no. If we move him, he dies." I highlight.

"If we stay, we could all die." The angel counters.

Dean looks at Sam's unconscious body before turning towards the wall across from the bed. His eyes land on the dry-erase markers underneath the whiteboard. He grabs the black marker before tossing the red one to me. We quickly draw angel-warding symbols on each wall, including the door, to keep out unwanted celestial visitors.

"Long as these are up, no angels are coming in," Dean informs Ezekiel, tossing the marker to the ground. "No one's coming out. You gonna be okay with these?"

"I'll manage." He answers.

Dean nods before studying Ezekiel's alertness. "What?"

"They're here."

At that moment, a high-pitched ring seeps into our ears, almost drowning out the distant screams that echo through the hospital's halls.

"Okay, do not open this door for anybody but me." Dean points to himself. His right hand grabs the doorknob before pointing a firm finger at his brother. "Save him, you hear me?"

Without waiting for an answer, he leaves the room. People screamed in fear as the glass began to shatter. The fire alarm sounds before Dean shouts from afar.

"Everybody out! Now! Get out!"

I stare at the door, debating whether or not I should help the man I love save people or stay and ensure the angel heals my best friend. I groan, knowing what Dean would want me to do. Suddenly, an unmistakable beeping jolts me out of my thoughts. My head snaps towards the monitor, searching for the cause of the horrific sound. His heart rate, oxygen saturation, and respiration levels spike significantly higher than what they should be. Uncertainty gripped me as I stood motionless, paralyzed by fear and unsure of how to help. Meanwhile, Ezekiel remained calm, observing my distress without making any move to offer Sam assistance.

"What are you doing? Help him!" I cry.

The angel lays his hand on Sammy's chest again. His eyes glow with light, showcasing the use of his power, but it quickly fades before he stumbles back. He sits on the nearby chair, clutching his side.

"No, no, no! Get up, he's dying!"

"There's nothing I can do." He croaks out.

"What do you mean? You're an angel. Please, help my best friend." I beg as tears flood my eyes.

"I'm afraid I'm too weak."

I groan in agony, hating that I couldn't help Sam. "Fuck it. I'm gonna go find a doctor."

I open the door to see glass shards coating every inch of the hallway floor. Coming from the left, a man and the counselor from earlier drag Dean towards the room. I mutter a few choice words before slamming the door shut behind me. Bracing for a fight, I grab Sam's angel blade from his belongings. An axe strikes the wooden door straight through the warding, causing it to disarm. I stand guard at Sam's bedside, ready to protect him at all costs. My hand tightens around the blade's handle as the tension builds, waiting for the angels to burst in.

Instead, a white light shines through the axe-shaped hole as the angels wail in anguish. Dean then barges in with his face covered in blood. His eyes follow where the only sound in the room comes from to see the red 'ALERT' warning flashing on the monitor.

"What the hell's happening?" He questions.

"This just started. And the warding. I'm afraid I'm weaker than I thought," Dean grabs a nearby marker and begins to cross lines in the nearby wardings, disabling them. "I am sorry, Dean."

Dean stops marking the symbols and rushes towards Ezekiel. "No. No, no, no. No, we had a deal, okay? I fight. You save."

"And would that I could. I'm just afraid it's too late." The angel delivers the bad news.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean asks breathlessly. "Are you saying there's no way to save my brother's life?"

"No good ways, I'm afraid," says Ezekiel.

"Well, what are the bad ones?" I frantically inquire.

When he hesitates to answer, Dean jumps in, yelling impatiently. "We're out of options here, man. Good or bad, let us hear them."

"I cannot promise, but there is a chance I can fix your brother. From the inside."

"From the inside? So, what, you gonna open him up?" Dean asks, confusion laced in his words.

The angel shakes his head, making him quickly realize his implication. "What, possession? You want to possess Sam?"

"I told you," Ezekiel whispers.

"No way," says Dean.

"Understood. It's your call."

"No, it's Sam's call. There's no way in Hell he'd say yes to being possessed by anything." I tell them.

The room falls silent as the dreadful reality sinks in: we're out of options. I pocket the angel blade and take Sam's hand in mine. My heart physically aches, knowing this could be the end of the road for my best friend. The watchful eye of the angel shifts from me to the injured man beside me.

"He would rather die." He says aloud, finding the conclusion to our silence.

Dean nods in sorrow as he stares at his little brother. Ezekiel pushes himself off the chair, trying to hide his discomfort. Painfully sighing, he angles his body towards the monitor next to him. With a swipe of his hand, he shuts it off, ending the activity.

"I'll leave you three alone, then."

My heart races as I turn to Dean for answers. His eyes dart with a sense of urgency, almost as if he was scanning through all the possible options to find a solution to heal Sam. His gaze fixed on his brother's frail body, brows furrowed with concern as he contemplated the best course of action. Panic washes over me as I see our only hope of saving Sam reach the door.

"Wait," Dean utters, getting the angel to stop. He slowly turns towards the angel. "If I consider this—and I mean just consider it—I need something, man. You got to prove to me how bad he is."

Ezekiel looks at the pained Winchester with sympathy. Without saying a word, he walks towards us. I move out of the way and behind Dean, giving them space. The angel places his right hand on Sam's forehead before instructing Dean.

"Close your eyes."

The hunter's eyes flutter shut as Ezekiel places his free hand on Dean's bloody forehead. My gaze shifts between the three men, unsure of what the hell was happening. A few moments pass before Dean returns in a state of panic, his eyes wide with terror.

"What are you doing, Sam?" He whispers to his little brother.

"As you can see, there's not much time." The angel tries reasoning.

"I know. Damn it, I know."

"What? What is it?" I solicit, my attention shifting between them.

Dean reveals that Sam is currently engaged in a conversation with Death. Sam seems to be seeking assurance from Death that if he decides to depart with Him, there wouldn't be an option for his return. I curse under my breath, not surprised Sam wants out. I remain quiet, not dumb enough to go against Dean. Instead, I listen as the men hash it out.

"How will it work?" Dean inquires.

"Mutual benefit, I suppose. I heal Sam while healing myself." Ezekiel confesses.

"And when he's healed?"

"I leave." He tries convincing. "It's the best of a bad situation, Dean."

"Even if I said yes, it doesn't mean squat. Sam will never say yes—not to you."

"But he would say yes to you," Ezekiel persuades.

Dean hesitates but nods, wanting his brother back. Ezekiel shuts his eyes and goes to work, Dean along with him. I finished crossing out every symbol so the angel could switch hosts effortlessly. After Dean returns, the room begins to shake as Ezekiel goes from one vessel to the next. We turn away to shield ourselves from the bright, angelic light. Once in the clear, we turn to the angel in Sam's body, sitting upwards in the hospital bed. He pulls the breathing tube and other wires out of his vessel before standing. I grab the plastic bag and hand him Sam's clothes.

"We'll leave you to change," Dean and I step into the hallway before I shut the door. My eyes meet his. "C'mon, I'll clean you up."

"No, it's fine. I can handle it." He passes.

"I'm not asking," I fixed a stern gaze on him, conveying my message with unwavering determination.

Realizing there was no use in arguing, he nods. I take his hand and wander to the closest family restroom. Once found, I ushered Dean inside, quickly checking for any onlookers who could witness us entering together. Confident it was clear, I closed the door behind us. The sound of the bolt locking into place bounces off the small bathroom walls.

I grab a handful of paper towels from the dispenser near the sink. The running water fills the silence as I wet a few napkins. Dean's figure catches my eye through the mirror above the sink, ceasing my movements. He stands beside the door, hesitant and shy. I turn around and tease him lightly.

"Well, get over here. I don't bite."

A deep chuckle leaves his throat as he slowly approaches. "I know you, Maricela, and you certainly do bite."

I fight a smile but quickly lose when I catch sight of his wicked grin. "Maybe...but not now. I promise."

He stops a few inches away from me. The faint scents of whiskey, sweat, and his favorite cologne fill my nostrils. I slowly and discreetly take a deep inhale, welcoming the aromas. My eyes meet his forest-green ones, and time stops. Even covered in blood, he still looks handsome. How? I thought. How is that possible?

Before allowing myself to drown in his pleasantness anymore, I quickly ask, "Ready?"

Dean nods before watching me raise a wet paper towel to his blood-stained face. Careful not to press too hard, I gently wipe the blood away. Thoughts of trepidation cloud my mind: Sam's situation, how Dean's handling it, an army of angels after Castiel, how we'll get them all back to Heaven. I bite my lip, hoping to hide my worrisome expression as I concentrate on cleaning his crimson-coated, angelic face instead. My height disadvantage forces me on my tippy-toes once I begin to wipe his forehead. He stifles a laugh, prompting me to stop my actions.

"What?"

He shakes his head but doesn't attempt to hide his wide grin.

"Nothing, nothing." I squint at him, silently coaxing his answer forth. "You just look cute, having to stand on your toes."

I roll my eyes and switch to a clean paper towel, trying my hardest not to blush at his comment. Despite my efforts, the hot flush painted my cheeks red.

"I'm glad my struggle is so amusing to you." I joke, battling the smirk he's responsible for.

"Here, let me help you," Without wasting another beat, he pulled my body against his.

With one hand on the small of my back, his other hand runs down to my thigh before pulling it towards his hip. I'm so enamored with his touch that I don't question when he advises me to jump. I wrap my arms around his neck and hop, straddling his hips. His hands land under the base of my ass before sliding me onto the counter with a thrust. An audible gasp left my lips, stunned to have felt the front of his jeans shove against my core.

I bowed my head, letting my hair fall around my face to shield the color it wore. My eyes landed between my thighs, and as if on cue, he took a few steps back. I clear my throat before holding up the clean napkin, silently asking if I should continue. With a nod, he permits me to start again. I lean off the counter to tend to his wounds but quickly struggle with the distance he set between us.

"Dean," I straighten myself before urging, "I need you closer."

"Huh?" He inquired, taken aback, with a glint of panic in his eyes.

"Closer."

As he stands still, showing no signs of movement, I reach out and firmly grasp the fabric of his jacket. With a gentle but insistent pull, I guide him toward me. His lips, coated with dried blood, slowly parted as his eyes carefully studied the details of my face. I try my best to ignore his attention as I dab the blood off of them.

"Oh, right..." Dean spoke as the wet paper towel rubbed against his lips. "Sorry."

"Don't sweat it," I reassured in a hushed tone.

A stack of power towels piled on the counter after cleaning blood that had trickled down his face, neck, around, and even inside his ear. I focus on the clump of blood that had collected in his hair before feeling his hands rest above my knees. Tingling sensations run up my thighs as he slowly rubs higher, applying light pressure. My breath becomes uneven, having never been touched by him like this before. So many intimate thoughts race through my mind. He steps closer, grazing the front of his jeans between my legs. My hand begins to tremble as I take a shaky breath.

I soon regret looking into his majestic green irises. His eyes hold me hostage as he stares into my soul. If he searched hard enough, he would find my unwavering love for him. Maybe if he found it, I could grab his cheeks and pull him into a kiss. I could show him how much I love him. I could show him how good we can be together. I could give him what he couldn't find in any other girl. If only he could see that eyes really are windows to the soul, then maybe it could be different. My disappointment reminds me of the harsh reality of 'never gonna happen.' I tuck my hair behind my ears along with my hopes and dreams.

I toss the bloody napkin with the rest before murmuring, "All done."

"Thanks."

He takes a few steps backward before extending his hands, offering to assist me off the counter. I hesitate but place my hands in his before jumping down. Without intent, I stumble into his stiff body. I mutter a quick apology before straightening myself and standing independently.

"We should go."

"Yeah, yeah." He clears his throat before distancing himself. His heavy boots clatter against the tile floor as he walks towards the door. Holding it open, he says, "After you."

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAG LIST

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*beside my writing, my works include : all banners, headers, dividers, and gifs that i use (which were made by me,) unless otherwise stated.

[idledreams4]

Guess what I did

I made a flag

Yup

The idea came to me in a vision

Wincesties, I present to you our new flag:

In case you're wondering why we need one, we don't.

But the Hellers don't give us the respect we deserve considering Wincest was responsible for keeping spn on the air, building the spn fandom, building Ao3, AND the omegaverse. Yeah, that's right, we did all that. So I'm giving us a symbol we can all rally behind or smth idk

It's colourpicked from Sam and Dean's finale outfits: Dean is on top, Sam on the bottom (sorry to any bottom!Dean truthers)

And the heart, as well as being the gay pride flag, also happens to be using three colors that represent familial love. That's right: green, blue, and white all represent family. Blue is associated with the deep devotion and loyalty that bonds family members. Green symbolizes finding balance with eachother. And white is representative the peace and tranquility you find with your family.

I think it's a pretty cool design, and the server that sparked the idea for this flag is even cooler. I don't have the authority to offer invites, but if you enjoy supernatural and you're looking for some friends to chat, hang out, and discuss your favorite incest ships with: check out the pinned post on @pleasure-as-a-means-of-survival 's blog

We are a super welcoming bunch and would be happy to have you!

[ananke-xiii]

little convoluted thought that ends beautifully, I promise.

So Purgatory Dean/Benny and Summer of Love/Demon!Dean Dean/Crowley stories are structurally very similar and I would even go as far as saying that they are the fundamentally the same but I can't because Dean/Crowley is a deterioration of Dean/Benny in the sense that while Benny did indeed help Dean, even though he had an ulterior motive, their relationship was based on more or less equal footing (Dean had more power in their dynamic) and respect of the terms of agreement.

Both stories have two more characters in them, i.e. Sam and Cas but their function is not the same. While Sam's is a sort of wake-up call for Dean to go back to reality, Cas is the one who bookends these two stories. Both Purgatory arc and Demon!Dean arc are closed when Dean and Cas reunite.

Now.

These two arcs are basically about Dean escaping reality. Which means he doesn't like his reality and probably needs/wants something more, different or for the first time out of it. Purgatory is pure and easy, Crowley's summer of love is fun and free. And yet they both REALLY end when Cas is back into the picture.

Mmmmm.

The fact that Dean wants/needs more and that his heart desires something he can't or doesn't want to admit is not something I'm making up. This is literally the core theme of both s10 and 11. S8 Purgatory is about the realization that there is indeed something that Dean needs and perhaps even wants (he's very adamant about it in Purgatory where he could feel "pure" and where purity means black and white mentality and free killing) but s9 tells him that he can't have that. Not having all of his wants and needs met dangerously leads Dean to a dark path from s9 onwards when he tries to symbolically go back to Purgatory via Mark of Cain (black and white mentality, more black than white lol, free killings without guilt, fake and consuming feeling of being in control of your life if you only have that ONE thing.... ((the blade, the imaginary lover, the stripper etc))). Of course it doesn't work because Purgatory was real but it was also a different place than the everyday world where its rules don't apply (no free killing for you here, Dean. Well, more or less, only your usual).

S11 pointedly ends with Amara telling Dean she gave him something that he needs, his mother. Which is true for all human beings: maternal love is indeed the primary need to be nurtured and cared for. So Amara did learn one thing or two about humans after all. And since we're here, she presumably didn't have to give Dean what he wanted because he could get it himself.

Because if his stints in Purgatory and demonhood were Dean looking for something he needed and wanted that ended when Dean reunited with Cas... and now Dean got what he needed because Amara didn't have to give Dean what he wanted because he could get it by himself... Would that mean?! Yeah, it does.

We're back again to "the one thing I want I know I can't have". It's always about desire, not limited to the physical sense but desire for that something or someone that you want. And maybe even get.

Which made me think of this beautiful poem by Fyodor Tyutchev (ACTUALLY, thinking about this poem made me think of the rest, so this post should be read end to beginning lol):

The Dull Flame Of Desire

I love your eyes, my dear,

their sparkling dancing fire

as they suddenly rise

to embrace everywhere

like lightning in the wilderness -

but there's a stronger charm

when your eyes are lowered

during passionate kisses

and in their downcast lashes

glows the dull flame of desire.

[shallowseeker]

Happy, "Just-- take it. Please," Sunday!

"But just in case. 'Cause I never stopped wanting to fix it either. So we got something in common. (re: the coat) Just-- take it. Please."

///

The damaged, blood-spattered overcoat as sublimated longing and stand-in for the heart.

///

(Text Attributions// Supernatural scripts here via @spnscripthunt. Transcripts are located here via SPNWiki. Visit their Tumblr to donate.)

[lovemydarkestsecrets-blog]

Past Dean gets home

This is part 2 of this post: https://www.tumblr.com/lovemydarkestsecrets-blog/754399997181739008/future-love-past-memories

The sun begins to set as Sam and Dean prepare for the ritual in the secluded clearing they found just outside of town. The air is heavy with anticipation and the scent of the herbs they gathered. Dean watches Sam work, his heart aching at the thought of leaving his brother behind once more.

Sam draws the final symbols on the ground, his hands steady but his eyes betraying the turmoil within. He glances up at Dean, the fading light casting long shadows across his face. “Are you sure about this?” Sam asks, his voice tight with emotion. “There’s no turning back once we start.”

Dean takes a deep breath, stepping closer to Sam. Dean’s hand rests gently on Sam’s cheek as Dean uses his thumb to rub the soft, clear skin. “I’m sure, Sammy. I need to get back. Your future depends on it. But… I wish I could stay.”

Sam swallows hard, nodding as he blinks back tears. “I know. I just… I hate saying goodbye.”

Dean places a kiss on Sammy’s forehead and nods. “This isn’t goodbye, not really. You and me, we’re always connected. No matter where or when.”

Sam manages a small, sad smile. “Yeah, I know. Still, it feels like I’m losing you all over again.”

They stand in silence for a moment, the weight of the impending farewell pressing down on them. Finally, Dean pulls Sam into a tight hug, holding him close. “You’ve grown so much, Sammy. I’m so proud of past and future you. Don’t ever forget that.”

Sam clings to Dean, his voice choked with emotion as the tears start to fall. Dean feels his shirt dampen, but he doesn’t mind. “I won’t. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure our future is better. I promise. I’m going to call past Dean the moment you leave…”

Dean pulls back, looking into Sam’s eyes. “Why?”

Sam’s eyes glisten in the moonlight as Dean watches intently. “This relationship, the one you and future me have. I need it. What I’ve always wanted, it was you. It was always you, Dean.”

Dean gives Sam a small, sad smile. “He’ll feel the same way. He’ll always feel the same way.” A smile starts to tug at the corners of Sam’s lips as he looks down at the book once more.

“Let’s get it done, Sammy.”

With a nod, Sam steps back and begins chanting the incantation, his voice steady despite the tears streaming down his face. Dean watches him, memorizing every detail, every sound, knowing this might be the last time he sees this version of his brother for a long time.

As the ritual progresses, a bright light begins to emanate from the symbols on the ground, enveloping Dean. The air crackles with energy, and Dean feels himself being pulled away. He locks eyes with Sam one last time, his heart breaking at the sight of his brother’s tear-streaked face.

“I love you, Sammy,” Dean says, his voice barely audible over the roar of the magic.

“I love you too, Dean,” Sam replies, his voice cracking. “Take care of yourself.”

The light intensifies, and Dean feels himself being lifted off the ground. The last thing he sees before everything goes white is Sam’s anguished expression, a sight that will haunt him until they meet again.

---

**Dean's Return to the Future**

Dean stumbles as he lands back in his own time, the familiar surroundings of the bunker coming into focus. He feels disoriented, but the sight of the familiar walls brings a wave of relief. He’s home. He’s finally in his timeline.

Sam rushes to his side, worry etched across his face. “Dean! Are you okay?”

Dean nods, pulling his brother into a desperate kiss. Dean doesn’t want to let go; he can’t let go. He knows younger Sammy is in there and he knows this kiss is for him.

Once Dean pulls away, Sam’s cheeks flush. “What was that about?” Dean pushes a stray hair out of the way and tucks it behind Sam’s ear.

“I just… missed you, is all.”

Sam smiles softly to himself before he speaks back up. “I-uh, have a few new memories of an older Dean… Thank you.”

Dean’s expression turns into confusion. He wasn’t aware that’s the effect time traveling would have had, but who was he to question it?

“For what?”

“What you said, about me, current me. How you were so delicate with me, how each kiss you gave me was sweet and tender. You were gentle with me. Thank you.” Sam’s gaze no longer met Dean’s as he rambled, embarrassed with how much Dean’s kindness touched him.

“Don’t thank me for something like that, you deserved it. Such a soft and sweet boy.” Sam’s face turns bright red as Dean talks, and Dean can’t help but find himself smiling like a madman.

“Are you still my soft and sweet boy?” Dean hooks his finger under Sam’s chin and with a soft shove, Sam can’t help but love it.

“I guess I am.”

Dean’s smitten gaze settles on Sam’s lips before he leans in for a softer kiss than before.

“Good, now let’s make up for lost time.”

[writingoncloudydays]

Starlight Date Night

Summary: Dean goes on a cute starlight date with Castiel to have a break from their chaotic lives.

Warnings: None, just some cute short fluff since I haven't posted anything yet.

0.62k words

Castiel and Dean found solace from the chaos of their daily lives in the sleepy town of Kanas, nestled under a blanket of twinkling stars. The night was warm, the air alive with the symphony of crickets and the whisper of the wind rustling through the trees. But it was the company they cherished most, lying side by side on the hood of Dean's beloved Chevy Impala.

Dean's Impala was more than just a car; it was a sanctuary, a symbol of freedom, and a steadfast companion on countless adventures. And tonight, it served as the perfect stage for their private rendezvous under the celestial canopy.

Castiel gazed up at the vast expanse of the night sky, his eyes tracing the constellations with a childlike wonder. "Dean, look," he said, pointing to an exceptionally bright star. "That one reminds me of the first time we met."

Dean followed Castiel's gaze, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, I remember," he replied, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "You fell from heaven and landed right in front of me."

Castiel chuckled, the sound like music to Dean's ears. "I suppose you could say that," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But I prefer to think of fate as bringing us together."

Dean reached out and intertwined his fingers with Castiel's, their hands fitting together perfectly like puzzle pieces. "Yeah, well, whatever it was, I'm sure glad it happened," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, content to bask in each other's presence and the tranquil beauty of the night. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two and the promise of endless possibilities stretching before them.

Dean couldn't help but marvel at the sheer perfection of the moment as they lay there. Here he was, with the person he loved more than anything, sharing a quiet moment of intimacy beneath the stars. Moments like these made all the struggles and sacrifices worth it.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean said, breaking the silence.

"Yes, Dean?" Castiel replied, turning to look at him with a gentle smile.

"I just wanted to say...thank you," Dean said, his voice thick with emotion. "For everything. For always being there for me, never giving up on me, even when I gave you every reason to."

Castiel's smile softened, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Dean, you don't have to thank me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've given me more than I could ever ask for. You've given me love, hope, and a reason to keep fighting, even when the world seems dark and hopeless."

Dean felt a lump form in his throat as he reached out to cup Castiel's cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "I love you, Cas," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

Castiel leaned into Dean's touch, his eyes shining with love and adoration. "And I love you, Dean," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "More than words could ever express."

They closed the distance between them, their lips meeting in a soft, tender kiss that spoke volumes of their love. And as they lost themselves in each other's embrace, the stars above bore witness to the beauty of their love, a love that would endure for eternity.

For in each other's arms, Castiel and Dean had found their home, their sanctuary, their reason to believe that no matter what trials life threw their way, as long as they had each other, they could weather any storm.

And so, beneath the starlit canopy, they lay entwined, hearts beating as one, two souls bound together for all eternity in a love that burned brighter than the stars themselves.

[muffinbeliever]

My Gift to You

Luna gives Spencer a special bracelet.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OFC

Word Count: 664

Warnings: none really. mentions of sensory issues but nothing major

A/N: i was rewatching jus in bello and got an idea after dean gave everyone anti-possession necklaces. she's just a wee little drabble but i wrote this in 18 minutes and im not super proud of it but tbh im a little proud bc i havent written in so long don't ask me if they have feelings for each other here bc they definitely do but theyre still newly friends and we all know babygorl spencer isn't the type to rush into relationships especially with a student in a class he TAs for

Masterlist

Ninety-one days, thirteen hours, and twenty-seven minutes after their first meeting, she gave him a bracelet. 

Normally, Spencer didn’t love jewelry— necklaces moved around too much throughout the day, most bracelet materials made him uncomfortable, and rings collect five hundred and four colonies of bacteria on average. He even avoids the feeling of bare wrist against his watch (over two thousand bacterial colonies) by placing the offending item over his long-sleeve whenever he can. But as he stared at the band presented before him with little symbols etched on beads and Luna’s doe eyes, he knew that he would wear this bracelet every day of his life, sensory issues be damned. 

He gently took the accessory from her hands, his eyebrows furrowing as he felt the fabric threading each bead and its soft texture. Upon a closer look, he realized it was braided cotton intricately woven in a tight pattern— nothing like he had ever seen before. 

“I, uh…I figured the cotton would be easier on your skin and wouldn’t bother you as much,” Luna finally said, breaking the thickening silence that was gradually building in his office. “The pattern is supposed to be a ‘spell of protection’…if you believe that kind of stuff…same with the symbols…” she trailed off with uncertainty when he didn’t acknowledge her comment. 

He stared at the complicated pattern, knowing it must’ve taken her hours to braid with such precision. Each knot was exactly the same as the one before it and the one after. There were neither frayed ends nor rough seams. Even the beads were perfectly spaced apart— 1.2 inches, if he were to guess. Each bead had a different symbol that was carefully etched on by hand. One looked vaguely like a pentagram inside of a sun— a symbol that Luna had on one of her necklaces he had seen before— and another pentagram with strange runes in between each point. Another one seemed to have characters similar to those of the ancient Germanic alphabet. He wasn’t sure what these symbols meant and why she was giving this to him, but he was in awe of the time and effort that went into the unique gift.

“Spencer, if you don’t like it, y—” 

“Like it?” He cut in, his voice soft and delicate. “Like it? Luna, I love it.”

He cleared his throat and when he spoke this time, his voice was stronger and more confident as he rattled off the knowledge that he did know.

“Actually, did you know that from 3500 BCE to 3100 BCE, the ancient Egyptians were known for their intricate braids? Upper-class men and women would wear elaborate braided styles bedazzled with beads, jewels, and gold thread. It was already tightly ingrained in their culture even before Cleopatra’s revolutionary braided styles. It was believed that braiding hair would bring good luck and—”

“Ward off evil spirits,” Luna finished for him.

“Yeah.” Spencer smiled softly. “This is incredible. I’ve never gotten a gift like this before. Thank you.”

Infinite starlight could never come close to Luna’s beaming smile, and his heart skipped a beat at her poorly stifled giggles as he attempted to put on the bracelet by himself. One look at his puppy eyes and Luna caved, mirth shining in her eyes as she offered her assistance.

“What do the symbols mean?” His innate curiosity and desire to acquire new knowledge never ceased to arise when the situation presented itself. 

“I’ll tell you some day,” she replied simply. “Promise me you’ll always wear it? It’ll keep away the demons.”

Her tone was light and seemingly airy, but Spencer’s perceptive nature picked up on the worry and desperation that flashed in her eyes. As she finished fastening on the accessory, she fiddled with it as she waited for his response. 

“I’ll never take it off,” he promised, his words laden with truth. She had given him a special piece of her. Who was he to ever deny it?

[1-800-local-slut]

All I Want (3/3)

(I know it's not technically a picture of Dean, but Jensen Ackles is so handsome)

Dean Winchester x Black! Fem! Reader (One-sided)

Sam Winchester x Black! Fem! Reader

Warnings: one sided love, pining, reader and Sam get horny and leave Dean to himself, Dean tries to move on and fails miserably, Dean thinks badly about himself, drinking, Dean wants reader bad but she's in love with Sam, Dean's really scared and really guilty, drinking and driving (don't drink and drive kids, always have a designated driver!) reader wears jewelry, most (if not all) of the female characters have a lot of accessories (lipgloss, nails, lashes, mascara, jewelry) because a lot of my works are self-indulgent and I'm a girly-girl so I like being dressed up and having a lot of accessories on so if its not for you just ignore it

Part 3 of 3! Thank you to everyone who read and commented, I'm so happy this series did so well. I honestly wasn't expecting it, I had literally nothing planned when I wrote it and just winged it. Thank you and enjoy the final part!

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He can remember when it all started. For weeks he had lost sleep when Sam announced that he was in love with his girlfriend of nine months. It was when they were on a hunt and the two narrowly made it back. He always thought Sam's girlfriend was cute, but he didn't know it was this bad. He ignored the fluttering of his heart the best he could for weeks. He ignored the way he always wanted to smile at her whenever she was near by.

He can remember the first night he realized how awful his entire predicament really was.

"She's cute, right babe?" She asked, wrapping her arms around Sam's neck, while she sat comfortably on his lap. The three looked at a dark skinned woman with blonde, curly braids with some very elaborate and fancy eyeliner.

"Sure." Sam responded, more focused on the feel of her thighs under his calloused palms. The couple was sitting in a booth at a club in Georgia, and like always she'd found her spot on Sam's lap. Tonight was different though.

A very uncomfortable feeling radiated through Dean, the look in Sam's eyes made his stomach turn. He stared at his girlfriend with an intense heat that made Dean feel like he was intruding on the two. His eyes a dark, lustful green, as his hands run up and down her thighs. Stopping just below her dress. Her eyes radiated the same desire, and she was staring at his hands. It was like seeing the opening to a porno that Dean would sooner carve his eyes out than watch.

Turning his head, he grabbed another shot and tilted his head back. The tequila burned the back of his throat, and he choked a bit. She giggled at his gagging, and Sam gave a small smile while holding onto her waist. Dropping his head back after he cleared his chest, he began to draw small symbols on the table. His heart felt like it was in his throat, the liquor not the only thing burning in his chest. It was worse on nights like this. The nights where he could see their desire for each other. At least they weren't at home, and Dean could escape to his own motel room.

"Dean, you should make a move. She's looking at you." She pointed out, while she fidgeted with her glass. Dean stopped staring at the table, looking up at the woman. He turned, the flashing lights of the club giving him a small headache. He was getting older everyday.

"Oh. Yeah." He responded glumly. No doubt the woman was beautiful. Her eyes looked so dark it was like looking into pools of ink. Her blonde curly ends were basically motioning for him to come hither. This could work.

In the past few weeks, Dean found the resolve to try and move on. Why pine over a woman he could never have when there were so many he could have? He was Dean Winchester. Sure this would technically be the one that got away but he's had quite a few of those.

"You should try talking to her." Drinking her rum and coke, Dean tried to keep his eyes off her perfect lips.

"Yeah, you've been going through a dry spell lately. When's the last time you got laid?" Sam asked, drinking from the straw that was held up in front of him. She swatted his shoulder, and Sam laughed in a weak attempt to avoid the next hit. Dean grimaced, his dry spell was noticeable and it killed him.

It wasn't entirely his fault. They'd been busy! Dean had been busy admiring Sam's girlfriend. Just thinking about it makes him shudder, he really was down bad. It would change tonight though. Dean would pick a girl, one that looked nothing like her, and he'd do what he does best. Then he'd finally be able to move on and forget about her.

"Sam, that's mean! Dean has better things to do than chase skirts, maybe you should take a page from his book." Sam squeezed her thighs and she leaned into his touch, eyes glued to his hands. Taking another shot, Dean shut his eyes for a minute to let the liquor settle.

Opening his mouth for a rebuttal, he was cut off by a high pitched voice.

"Excuse me?" The three of them turned to see the woman from the bar staring right in front of their table. Her hands were clasped behind her back and Dean could see her chest up close. Like two large oranges, covered in silver glitter. She was wearing a gorgeous pink dress with mesh sleeves that showed her shoulders.

"Hi there!" Out of the three of them, she was always the sweetest when it came to strangers. If Dean had social graces, she was the queen of social skills.

The woman's eyes stayed glued on Dean's and she was looking at him with want. Dean gave a small smile that he had to force onto his face. He wished the smile came to his face as naturally as it did when the woman across smiled at him. Her bright grin always gave Dean an easy smile, like a contagious grin.

"I was just wondering if your friend wanted to join me for a drink. I'm April."

"Dean. I'd love to get a drink with you, beautiful." April gave a flirty laugh and batted her eyelashes at him, and Dean slid out of the booth trying to still the thudding of his chest. Glancing back, Dean shot a thumbs up to Sam and his girl. April's soft hand wrapped around Dean's large ones, leading him back to her stool.

"What'll you have?" She asked seductively, and Dean wanted to frown so badly. He fought to keep his eyes on April, not on Sam and the goddess of a woman sitting on top of him.

"A beer if you don't mind." Wiping his sweaty palms down his pants, he hoped she wouldn't notice how much his hands were sweating. Or how much he was sweating.

It felt wickedly warm in the crowded club, and when Dean glanced back at his brother. The large man was gone, and so was his girlfriend. Had he been ditched? Left all alone with April?

"A beer and a martini please." April waved over the bartender. She looked back at him and cleared her throat lightly, pulling back his attention.

It was good he was left with April, his only distraction now gone.

"So April, where are you from?" Time to turn on some of his famous charm.

"Atlanta, you?"

"They make angels in Atlanta now?" After a moment, April averted her gaze. She looked a bit flustered, and their drinks were placed down in front of them.

"Cheesy." She laughed and Dean gave a laugh of his own. This was working. He didn't feel a large desire for April, but he was out of his own head for the first time that night.

"I know. I'm from Kansas, but if women like you are just roaming around down here I might need to move." Taking a sip of the beer, he felt the liquor starting to kick in.

"What brings you to Georgia?"

"My brother, his girlfriend and I are here for a trip."

"That girl sitting on him? She was cute, they look good together." April commented thoughtfully. Oh God, why did he mention her? The memories of her were like a punch to the gut, rushing right back to him.

"Yeah. Make each other real happy." It was the best he could muster. He meant it too. Sam and his lady make each other happy. It makes Dean happy. Tonight, Dean would be happy with April.

"Do you have anyone who makes you happy like that?" April asked, placing a hand on his knee. Her hand felt warm on his knee and he smirked. Placing his hand over hers, he scooted himself closer to her.

"You can make me happy like that." The two leant in then met each other for a deep kiss in the middle. Dean held her face in her hands, feeling her soft lips on his. She pushed him back a bit, sliding off the chair and standing over him.

They separated for air before she pressed another aggressive kiss to his lips, leaving her sticky gloss on his lips. Pulling away again, Dean followed her lips.

"We should dance." Dean nodded, following her pulling him to the dance floor. The music thrummed in his ears, the bass reverberated through him. For once, all he could focus on was April. She really was pretty.

Long blonde hair and a neon dark pink dress made her look like Barbie. Her white eyeliner drew elaborate patterns. The glitter on her body shimmered beautifully, and her dark eyes were calling him to her bed and into her arms. She smelt like coconuts and mocha. Under the flashing lights, her makeup glowed in the dark.

They began to dance, slowly at first and she pressed her hips to his. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her chest against his. His hands found her hips, and they began to grind to the beat of the music. He was feeling like Dean again, feeling like nothing stood in his way outside of his personal issues.

She whispered his name as his grasp tightened around her hips.

Then it happened. It was like a path cleared, and Dean saw her. Her tight dress wrapped around her, hips moving on Sam. She was throwing it back on his little brother in a sensual fashion, and Sam's hands were tight on her hips. Sam's brows were furrowed in intense focus, watching her hips move on his crotch. With each jump of her hips, Dean felt his heart sink.

April basically disappeared, even though he could still feel her lips pressing glossy kisses to his neck. He wanted to push her off of him.

If April was an angel, she was a goddess. It was like she was basically calling him over. Her dark bohemian braids were falling over her shoulders like a waterfall. Sam's tongue poked out of his lips in deep focus.

April turned them around, thankfully saving Dean from falling back into his heart ache. He could feel his heart crawling back to his throat, and he was on the verge of dying of a broken heart. April pressed her lips back to his, but Dean couldn't have as much passion before. All thoughts of April were replaced by thoughts of her.

As they danced under the flashing lights, Dean's eyes found their way back to Sam and his girlfriend. Now they were making out again, Sam taking in handfuls of her.

Dean couldn't help but watch with pitiful eyes as the realization set in the longer he looked their way.

They pulled apart, and Sam whispered something in her ear. She nodded, and Sam pressed a hard kiss to the top of her head. The two started for the club exit, and it was like she was taking Dean's heart with him.

April was still dancing with him and he couldn't hide his sigh. He couldn't do it. He pulled her off him, and avoided making eye contact. The tips of his ears turned red from embarrassment, his neck felt hot. April looked at him with confusion, waiting for some sort of explanation.

"Hey I'm sorry. I think I had too much to drink, I can't do this. I'm not feeling the best." He stammered awkwardly. April's face slowly fell in disappointment. Then she looked sympathetic, understanding that he felt like he was close to throwing up. Not for the reason she thought. He felt sick of sadness and self disappointment.

"Oh...I'm sorry. Are you okay, do you need help or something?" Rubbing his shoulder, Dean shrugged it off and shook his head.

"No I'm fine, I think I'm just gonna head out. It was nice meeting you." April nodded, watching Dean wave her goodbye and head for the door as well. His mind and heart raced, the feeling of jealousy replaced with fear.

He made it to Baby, the cool air of the night breezing his face. His head spun, the ground feeling unsteady under his feet. His legs felt like jelly and he unlocked the car door. Crawling into the driver's seat, Dean took a deep breath, attempting to steady his heart beat but he couldn't do it no matter what.

He was in deeper than he thought. He knew he had it bad, he knew he wanted her so badly that it was almost insane but he didn't realize it was this bad. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears, like he was still in the club.

His hands shook with guilt. It was his little brother. How could he want to take away something so precious from his little brother? How could he want to do that? How could he not talk himself out of it?

April didn't work. Drinking didn't work. Dancing with someone else didn't work. Nothing was working. No matter what he tried, it just wasn't working. His stomach turned, and he felt his throat dry up.

His eyes stung with tears of frustration. Why didn't it work? He knew why. There was no replacing her. There was no replacing someone so beautiful, inviting, intriguing. Someone with such a broad personality couldn't be replaced. She haunted Dean, like an awful memory or a terrible hangover. She wasn’t just beautiful, her entire personality was. Her very soul was. Every part of her was. It was like she cleaned his spirit just by being near him.

His brother was happy. For the first time since Jess, Sam found a girl who he could be himself with. A girl who loved Sam for Sam and here was Dean wanting her for himself. Sam deserves her. Sam deserves someone who shows him he's worth love. Who shows him just how much she cares for nothing in return. A person who understands him in ways Dean couldn't.

Dean was terrible, terrible for his shameful desires. The tears felt hotter than hell, scolding down his cheeks. A silent sob shook through his body. He ran away from a gorgeous woman because he wanted what his brother had. No. It wasn't about wanting what Sam had. He never cared about Sam having a girl or not, the way Sam never cared who Dean shacked up with. It was about her. Dean wanted her and no one else.

He had it bad, he had the type of feelings that don't just go away because of a night with someone else. He realized then that when she left that night with Sam she truly did take his entire heart with him. And there was no getting it back.

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Thank you all for reading! Please let me know what you thought <3

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@roseblue373

@midnightmaurader

I hope you guys enjoyed this series <3