#dean winchester gifs

[takeyourprecioustime]

Dean/Jensen

[s--strawberry]

🫵gay

[episodetwo]

1.09 HOME

Well, one thing’s for damn sure — nobody’s dying in this house ever again.

[katherinehoughtoncastle47]

3.11 - MYSTERY SPOT

[pinksatinpanties]

They were in a secret relationship and I will not be taking any counter arguments at this time or ever LOOK AT THEM

Dean flirting with his husband

[acecroft]

Dean Winchester in SUPERNATURAL 8.06

[winchestergifs]

STACKEDNATURAL ⇉ 190.5/327 (part 1)

1.14 Nightmare Written by Sera Gamble & Raelle Tucker Directed by Phil Sgriccia Original Air Date: February 7, 2006

[angelsdean]

♡ babygirl rendered speechless by cheek smoochie ♡

[wendichester]

Hii can I please request a Dean x reader where they go to a bar and reader gets really drunk and starts acting really clingy with Sam and Dean and acts really stupid and almost goes home with some random creepy guy and Dean and Sam have to babysit her?.

⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ babysitting duty,

summary. you've had one too many and dean and sam has to babysit you

pairing. dean winchester x reader ft. sam winchester

wordcount. 619

notes. obsessed with this concept for ever and ever !!! thanks for requesting 🩷

The night starts off fine. Just a few drinks, a little music, and the comforting haze of neon lights casting everything in a warm glow. Dean doesn’t think much of it when you throw back your first shot, or your second, or even your third.

But by the time you’re giggling into your whiskey glass, swaying in your seat and batting your lashes at both him and Sam like they hung the damn moon, he realizes—oh, shit.

“You guys are, like, really hot,” you declare, slurring slightly, pointing a wobbly finger between them. “Like, stupid hot. How is that fair?”

Dean chokes on his beer, glancing at Sam, who just sighs, long-suffering. “Alright, maybe that’s enough—”

“Pfft,” you wave him off, almost knocking over your drink in the process. “I’m fine.”

Dean’s not so sure about that, especially when you reach across the table to squeeze Sam’s bicep, your fingers barely closing around it.

“Holy crap, Sammy,” you murmur, eyes wide with drunken awe. “Have you always been this huge?”

Dean bursts out laughing as Sam stiffens, looking wildly uncomfortable. “Okay, that’s new,” Dean muses, raising a brow at his brother. “Usually, she’s all over me.”

“I am all over you,” you whine, reaching for Dean next, draping yourself over his arm. “I love you, Dean.” Your voice goes dramatically soft, eyes glassy. “You’re the best.”

Dean grins, tipping his bottle toward you. “I know, sweetheart.”

You nuzzle into his shoulder, sighing. “You smell good.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “This is getting out of hand.”

“I am out of hand,” you say proudly, then suddenly gasp, as if you’ve had the most brilliant idea ever. “Oh my God. I should dance.”

Dean and Sam exchange a look.

“You should not dance,” Sam says firmly.

But you’re already slipping off the stool, a little too wobbly on your feet, and before they can stop you, you’re in the crowd, swaying dramatically like you’re in a music video that only exists in your head.

Dean scrubs a hand over his face. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

Then he sees him.

Some random dude—greasy, leering—zeroing in on you like a vulture circling roadkill.

Dean’s moving before his brain even catches up, Sam right behind him.

By the time he reaches you, the guy’s got a hand on your waist, murmuring something in your ear. You blink up at him, all dazed and soft, clearly not registering the red flags all over the situation.

Dean doesn’t even hesitate.

He yanks you back, pressing you against his chest protectively. “She’s not going anywhere with you,” he growls.

The guy raises his hands like he’s innocent, but his smirk says otherwise. “Relax, man. She’s a big girl.”

“She’s our problem,” Sam says, voice low, stepping up beside Dean.

Dean doesn’t bother saying anything else—just glares daggers until the guy slinks off, disappearing into the crowd.

You blink up at them, confused. “Wha—?”

Dean sighs, looping an arm around your waist. “Time to go, sweetheart.”

“But I was having fun,” you pout, but you don’t resist when he starts leading you toward the door.

Sam sighs heavily. “This is exactly why I said she shouldn’t drink that much.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Dad, we get it.”

You, however, are completely unbothered, wrapping your arms around Dean’s waist and practically climbing him as they step outside. “You’re warm,” you mumble into his chest. “M’gonna sleep on you.”

Dean snorts, tightening his grip. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Sam shakes his head, following behind, resigned. “Never again.”

Dean smirks. “We both know that’s a lie.”

You hum happily against him, completely oblivious.

Dean just sighs.

He’s never letting you out of his sight again.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @kayleighwinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @onelonelybitch ⋆ @americanvenom13 ⋆ @iluvdeanwinchester ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @devilslittlehelper ⋆ @cloverleaf20 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @beakaleak32 ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @globetrotter28 ⋆ @i-love-gvf ⋆ @lemonswinchester ⋆ @4k1vrr ⋆ @bejeweledinterludes ( continues in the comments )

[bloodydeanwinchester]

random shots of dean’s tongue - 32/ ∞

2x04 || children shouldn't play with dead things

[nguyetdahuong]

quoting dean whenever I digest high-cholesterol stuff <3

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Baby Preparations

Sam and Dean & pregnant little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you’re pregnant, that’s literally it, that’s the plot

Warnings: short and sweet, pregnancy and tooth-rotting fluff

“Sam!”

Your voice calling out Sam’s name had him doing a 180, heading back from the direction he’d came to find you. You were sitting on the floor of the War Room, and instead of the usual newspaper clippings and lore books, there were dozens of paint sample cards.

“You need something?” He asked.

You held out your hands to him, as if you were 6 years old again and asking to be carried.

“I can’t stand up,” you huffed. At Sam’s light snicker, you scowled. “It’s not funny! I can’t move!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” But Sam couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he helped you to your feet. “How’s my nephew doing?”

“He kicks like he’s a dang Winchester,” you grumbled, rubbing your stomach. “And every time he moves I have to pee, and he—“

“Ok, ok.” Sam stopped you, holding up his hands in surrender. “I get the picture, and I really don’t need to know more.”

“Coward,” you scoffed.

“Hey, when it comes to my baby sister’s pregnancy, you bet I am,” Sam admitted.

“Has anyone seen my pie?” Dean’s question could be heard before he even entered the room, a quizzical and grumpy expression on his face.

“The baby wanted it,” you answered, drawing an eye-roll and a huff from your oldest brother.

“Is that always gonna be your answer?” He demanded.

“Not always,” you admitted. “Just maybe another two months until this guy is eating his own food, not mine.”

Dean face twisted, but he didn’t argue—he never did anymore, and you took full advantage of it. Sam saw right through how you were playing Dean like a kazoo, but he didn’t comment on it; it was too much fun to watch.

“Fine,” Dean grumbled. “I’m gonna go on a run.”

Without a word, you pulled a piece of paper from your pocket and handed it to Dean.

“Again?” He demanded. “It better not be full of weird snacks again.”

“Last time wasn’t that weird,” you insisted.

“I’ve never bought so many pickles or marshmallows in my life,” Dean scoffed.

“It’s marshmallow fluff, not marshmallows,” you corrected.

“Remind me why I’m doing this again?” Dean asked.

“Because my stomach doesn’t fit behind the steering wheel anymore.” You grinned. “And you never let me drive Baby anyway, so you get to make the runs.”

“Fine,” Dean caved. “But if I see orange-flavored beef jerky on here again, I’m throwing the list away.”

…

“Hey Sam?”

Sam glanced up from his lore book to see you still staring at your paint samples.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“I can’t pick a color. Can you help?”

Sam shrugged, ditching his book and coming to your side.

“You really can’t pick?”

“I just…” you huffed. “I want it to be perfect.”

“I don’t really think the baby’s gonna care,” Sam argued.

You were quiet for a long moment, and Sam watched as you started to pick at your hands.

“Hey.” Sam’s hand over yours stilled you. “What’s got you all worked up?”

“I mean…we-we never got anything like this. You know, the rooms and—and a house. But Charlie will…and I want it to be perfect.”

Sam smiled—he loved hearing his nephew’s name, the one you’d chosen to honor your best friend—and rested his hands on your shoulder.

“Charlie doesn’t need the perfect room paint to have a happy childhood. He already has so much more than we had—he has a home, and he has a wonderful mother. He’s gonna grow up so happy—it’s not gonna be like how it was with us.”

“Ok.” You took a deep breath. “Ok, thanks Sam.”

“Any time. And you should totally choose the green.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810 @tell-elle

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Imagine...Dean Reasearching

Pairing: Dean x reader

________________

“Need some help?” you asked Dean. He was staring intently at a blank white board, chewing on the marker in his mouth. “Sam, I think he’s finally lost it.”

“Can’t lose what you never had,” said Sam as he tossed a crumbled up sheet of paper at the back of Dean’s head.

“I’m thinking,” he said without turning around. 

“Don’t strain yourself. The marker goes in your hand by the way,” said Sam smugly as you whacked his arm.

“Thank you, Y/N,” said Dean as he continued to naw on the piece of plastic.

“Just don’t get any of that stuff in your mouth, babe,” you said, leading Sam away and leaving Dean to his thoughts.

“So that hunt you told me about, you sure we don’t need Sam for this?” you asked after you and Dean had been seated at your table in the nice restaurant. Dean nodded.

“We can handle it,” he said, giving you a smile. He was in a suit and you’d put on a dress, Dean telling you that you had to go undercover tonight. He didn’t give you much detail about the case you were on as you looked around.

“Want to give me a heads up?” you said as you caught Dean staring at you.

“You look very pretty,” he said as you bit your lip to hold back a smile.

“There’s no case,” you said, Dean’s cocky smile telling you so.

“Getting good at my acting. Helped that Sam played along,” said Dean as he waved over a waiter.

“What’s the occasion?” you asked while you still had a moment to yourselves.

“We always plan our fancy date nights. I wanted to surprise you for once,” he said with a grin.

“I love it,” you said, reaching your hand across the table as Dean took yours in his. “Thank you, Dean.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said, leaning over and pecking a kiss on your lips, just in time for the waiter to arrive.

_____________

[daylighted]

I need more baby!reader Dean , I adore everything you write 😭

i think... it's about time... i give u guys what u want ( dean flirting with baby )

sam had his hands full with lore clinging to him, just as dean had intended for things to go. see, that was the only reason he'd entertained your bizarre wish of turning his dad's journal into a girl at all. not that he'd admit it to himself or anything, but it was true. sam occupied meant that there were no witnesses to the fact that, very quickly, his entire resolve was crumbling away due to all of the chipping you'd done at it.

you! this girl that was yes, once his car, but now was this full-fledged human being. you, who liked to be pressed entirely to the window as he drove, taking in every sight with your nose against the glass. you, who held a hand over your heart every time you got anxious, and then proceeded to tear him apart in one sentence because of that anxiety. and you, who cried your eyes out after you said something you thought was too mean.

dean was screwed — but he was thinking of it less like a bad thing now and more like something that could, possibly, potentially, be good for him? this was just as new to him as it was to you, considering he'd never had someone be so utterly devoted to him like you were.

you were brushing your teeth at the sink, humming a song to yourself in the process. he loved showing you music. each song became your new favorite. dean didn't know, really, if you liked them because he showed them to you, or you genuinely liked them, and honestly? didn't care. he was never going to deny the fact that, no matter what it was, you were too damn cute, humming along to whatever metallica song came on next in his (absolutely not specially curated) cd collection.

"c'mon, baby, i don't have all day," he grumbles, tapping the tv remote against his thigh to the beat of the song you hummed to. "you said you wanted to watch..."

he trails off, because he knows you really well by now, and knows you'll fill in the blank. which you do, excitedly spitting out the foamy toothpaste in your mouth and all but leaping onto the bed next to him. "the witcher!" you were a little unbearable after learning that you came to existence because of a witch. dean in all of his whipped glory, thought it was as endearing as ever. "put it on! now!"

"i'm tryin'," he laughs, holding the remote over your head as he scrolls through the options on netflix. "hard to focus when you're bouncin' around over there." goddamn, was it. "sit still, will ya?"

all it takes is one ask for you to, expectedly. unexpectedly, you've decided to settle right on his lap. dean was well aware of how snuggly you got at nighttime, but this was a new level to it. he is suddenly extremely focused on the tv screen, and definitely not on your bare legs wrapped around his, or your head nuzzled into his chest. or anything in between. please, god, don't let him focus on anything in between.

"did you know i love you?" his heart skips a beat every time you say it, even though dean is well aware of how you mean it. not like the way he wishes you would, but somehow somewhere in between what he wants and something platonic. the only type of love that you knew was this, and he didn't want to do anything to selfishly divulge you away from your feelings, however convoluted and confusing they were.

dean nods, his free hand coming up to trail his fingers through your hair. "i know." and dean did. you made sure to tell him once a day, which was another new thing for him. "love you too, angel."

he feels the scowl before you even voice your complaints. you were baby. he should call you baby. but something about the phrase, love you too, baby felt entirely too real and serious, and you could handle it, but he couldn't. not like this.

"there you go," you say, and instantly, dean's mouth tilts up in a smile, "trying to name me again."

your head lifts to meet his eyes, and he watches as the scrunchy irritation to your face melts into a warm smile. you always smiled when he did. you were a girl full of so much love, it just spilled out of every place it could. "it's called a nickname," he says, not for the first time, either. very common occurrence because dean cannot for the life of him stop calling you pretty names, "you can call me nicknames too, you know."

"no." you scoot up in his lap, and he has the willpower and strength of a fucking god, because he does not, in fact, whimper like he could have. could have! but didn't. you really should not fucking do that, but you don't know any better. he has to remind himself that you don't know that you sitting in his lap and gliding against him is enough to set his soul on fire.

dean raises an eyebrow up at you as you resettle on his stomach, your knees under his armpits. he sets the remote aside, his hands going to your waist to steady you. to steady you, he tells himself, even though you've never looked more secure in your life. "no? don't even want to try one?"

"you're dean, and i'm baby. that's just how it is and has been." you lean down quickly, and dean actually gasps, stuttering on his breath in his throat, thinking you're going to kiss him. he deflates when instead, you press your forehead to his, nose-to-nose. you don't know better. it's a constant mantra in his head. "you can't go changing it up now."

"you could call me baby."

your minty breath fans across his face, your eyes trailing over every inch of his face. you always look at dean so reverently. no one has ever looked at him the way you do, like there's nothing broken and nothing to fix, just beauty in every crevice.

"i don't want to." the honesty makes him grin, shaking his head in his amusement.

your hands come up to hold his face in between them, your palms flat on his cheeks, the scratch of his late-night stubble tickling against delicate skin of your hands. he knows it tickles, just by how you start to giggle. god help him. "i could call you angel. or sweetheart. or darlin'. i could call you babygirl."

something shifts in your eyes. it's subtle, barely noticeable, but you've got your face against his and he can see everything from here. he traces his fingertips along your ribcage through your shirt — his shirt, actually, but it'd taken up permanent residence on you. "no."

"no?" he echoes again, his head tilting to the side. your grip on his face tilts it right back, and dean can't help but laugh heartily. "don't tell me my pretty baby hates bein' called babygirl."

"stop it." you're blushing. your skin is warm beneath his hands, and all he wants is to reach under your shirt and feel it properly. a reminder to himself that you were real, and not some hyper-realistic delusion he'd been having for weeks.

it's all too easy to tip his chin up, so close to kissing you that his mouth opens and he feels the brush of your lips against his like electricity. "why? you're baby, and you're a girl. what's wrong with that?"

dean hadn't ever riled you up before. sure, he'd pissed you off, he'd endured plenty of verbal lashings from your sharp tongue, but this was new. this was the first indication that you loved him like he wanted you to love him.

"not funny."

"very funny, baby," and then suddenly, it's just as unfunny as you said, because your eyes fall to his mouth, and now he's a bit frozen in place. he bunches up the sides of your shirt beneath his fingers so it's raised enough for him to slip his fingers beneath, the warmth of your skin against his sending shivers down his spine.

you're going to kiss him, he thinks. you won't know what it means, and you definitely aren't going to know what you're doing, but he's already prepared for that. he'll guide you. he'll show you everything, actually, as long as you let him.

it's barely a proper touch of your mouth to his, but it's electric. he leans up to chase more of it, to seal the words into your mouth—

the hotel room door clicks as the lock releases, and dean stutters back with a jolt, his head knocking against the headboard. you turn your head to the door, not even bothering to move even though you really, really should, dean's a fucking wreck and you almost kissed him and—

"oh, come on, dean." sam's irritation is visible when he meets his brother's eyes, shrugging off the coat he was wearing.

dean lifts his shoulders in an exasperated shrug. "we are witching the witcher, sammy."

lore points at the tv screen. "you are not watching anything. you are queued up to watch cocomelon."

dean stretches his neck to look over your shoulder, and his expression flattens. he was fine with lore, he didn't have any qualms against her existence, but he was beginning to regret letting you swindle into creating her.

dean doesn't know if he's thankful or not when you climb off of his lap and go over to lore, already babbling about... god, what did you two even talk about? every time he tried to focus on the two of you together, he instead just zeroed in on you, and everything else went blank.

everything was still blank now. he watches your eyes light up with the weight of your joy, and he can't help but wonder if it meant anything at all, or if it was just a moment that you two had, and nothing more.

once again, all dean could do was hope it was something more.

notes. how many times will dahlia change her format for baby!reader: the people may never know. this came out sm longer than expected PLSSSS I JUST LOVE BABY & DEAN OKAY !!!

tags. @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @jensenacklesballsack @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra @h8aaz @mahi-wayy @bejeweledinterludes @h8aaz @jjmbbg @valjy

[deancasforcutie]

#oh cas #you beautiful disaster you #but this is a callback to tombstone #fight me #bobo knows what's up #spn vs happiness (via @norahastuff)

You seem good lately. Happy, even. I guess I’m just fired up. Look, we got Jack back… 

Supernatural 14x09 Sneak Peek - “The Spear” (x)