#domestic!dean

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

😍😍😍😍

Fluffy, domestic Dean with his little oven mitts! 😍 I need to come home to this! ❤️ Thanks for this gif too! Love it! Gonna get all the fluff with this one, I can already tell!

[bittersweetbangers]

dean winchester in the kitchen you are everything to me

[qvir]

I can definitely see Dean mocking Sam for learning sign language, "Finally learning how to move your fingers to please your girl, Sammy?" etc etc

But he actually thinks it's really cute and is excited about them. And maybe one day watching Sam practicing his skills, he gets an idea.

So he loses himself in the library to the point that everyone in the bunker is worried, "Did he make a deal?"

And then one morning he makes coffee, hands one to Castiel with a "Morning Sunshine" in butchered enochian, and it's all worth it to see the angel turn red and speechless.

[dorkylilguy]

“The housework, I think, will fall on Cas. And I’ll tell you why. Because Cas doesn’t sleep. So there’s seven or eight hours when Dean is sleeping where if he like, if Cas doesn’t find the time to put away the dishes and fold the laundry during that time—that’s pretty lame.”

—Misha Collins

[sirlancenotalot]

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Clutter (Dean Winchester x female reader)

You've recently moved into the bunker, and your "girly stuff" in the bathroom confuses Dean.

Read it on AO3 Teen. 910 words. Dean x female reader. Domestic fluff. Moving in together. Cosmetics. Dean being difficult (but he comes around).

You’re walking down the hallway, about a month after you’ve moved into the bunker, when you hear clanging coming from the bathroom, followed by a hearty: “Son of a bitch!”

Closing the distance to the door, you carefully peek in. Dean is standing in front of the bathroom counter, hands raised, several small tubes and tubs and glass bottles upended before him. You walk in with a frown on your face.

“What are you doing?” you ask, making Dean turn around.

“Your weird girly stuff is everywhere,” he complains, looking frustrated. You raise your eyebrows in response.

“My girly stuff?” you repeat, stepping a little closer.

“Yeah,” Dean answers. “It used to be just toothbrushes and toothpaste on here, maybe a razor once in a while, and now it’s all... this.” He underlines the last word by motioning towards the mess in front of him.

“Dean,” you say, shaking your head but unable to hide your amusement at his agitated state. “It’s just moisturizer and some nail polish. It’s not like it’s a bunch of stuff.” Dean makes a face.

“I don’t even know what you’re saying,” he replies. You push your fists into your sides.

“I know you know what nail polish is,” you answer, “and moisturizer… I mean, it kind of explains itself, no?” Dean is about to respond something, but you can tell your calm response is making him realize how silly his reaction to his own clumsiness is. You’re pretty sure half of it is embarrassment at pushing over the stuff in the first place.

“Well,” he continues, not quite ready to drop the topic, “what about this?” He points at a small glass bottle.

“My perfume?” you ask, walking closer to him. “You like my perfume.”

“Yeah,” he immediately replies. “When it’s on you. Not when it’s standing around, taking up space.” You lean one hand on the counter.

“And what’s your proposed solution?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug. “Can’t you keep it in your room?”

“Sure I could,” you respond. That really takes the wind out of Dean’s sails.

You have no intention of moving the stuff to your room, since it would mean you would have to move back and forth between your bedroom and the bathroom much more than necessary. But if there’s one thing you have learned about discussions with Dean, it’s that not meeting him halfway on his irritation usually ends the thing before it even begins. Sam could really take a page out of your book.

Like now, Dean is already looking embarrassed. He looks back at one of the tubes that has fallen over, rights it.

“I mean,” he says, not looking at you, “you don’t have to. It’s your bathroom too. But maybe some of it can go in the drawers?”

“Absolutely,” you say, turning to open one of the drawers he mentioned, and placing a majority of the products in there. You close the drawer by pushing your hip against it as you turn back to Dean. He has his hands shoved into his pockets and his lips are pursed.

“And I guess I could have just asked you that in the first place, instead of making a scene,” he says, still not looking at you directly.

“Yep,” you say, then move closer to him and wrap your arms around him.

Dean chews the inside of his cheeks before he looks at your face. “And you’re not even gonna make me feel bad for being an idiot?”

“Please,” you say, pressing a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Your idiot side is, like, my fifth favorite side of you.” Dean raises his eyebrows.

“What’s number one?” he asks.

“When you’re all rueful and sorry about being said idiot,” you say, kissing him again. “And want to spoil me to make up for it.” Dean chuckles abashedly.

“Right,” he mumbles, then looks at your face again. “I’m sorry.” You smile up at him.

“Already forgotten,” you reply. Dean studies your face for another second, then wraps his arms around you too, presses his face into your neck. You giggle at the way it tickles you.

The two of you stand like that for a minute, before you feel Dean inhale deeply, like a drowning man coming up for air. He really does like your perfume on you.

“What the hell is moisturizer?” he says into your neck and you can’t help but laugh.

“It’s what you’re gonna have to start using at some point,” you answer, “if you don’t want to look like Skeletor by the time we’re sixty.”

“Skeletor’s ripped,” Dean mumbles against your skin.

“That’s not the part I was referring to,” you point out, kneading the back of his neck. To your disappointment, Dean disentangles his face from you and looks at you, frowning.

“Wait, are you saying we’re still gonna be together when we’re sixty?” he asks and you nod.

“Which is why,” you add, “you have to start taking care of yourself. Otherwise people are going to ask, why is that gorgeous, smooth-skinned woman with that old, ugly—hey!”

Dean has wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up, thrown you across his shoulder. You’re giggling like crazy when he carries you out of the bathroom.

“Dean!” you squeal. “What are you doing?” Dean playfully slaps your butt, all caveman-firefighter-style.

“Spoiling you,” he answers, and you can hear the grin in his voice.

[soullessjack]

your idea of domestic tfw2.0 is a gated community gay couple with an estranged/absent uncle. my idea of domestic tfw2.0 is sam banning violent video games in the bunker because jack keeps trying to do MK fatalities on monsters when they go hunting and dean won’t stop doing the narrator voice to encourage it. We are not the same

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Gah!!! Yes, the scene right after this when he crawls in beside Lisa and she snuggles into his side - it's literally all I want out of life. 🫠🥹😍

DEAN WINCHESTER in one random episode per day ‣ 75/327 6.01 EXILE ON MAIN ST.

[katherinehoughtoncastle47]

9.04 - SLUMBER PARTY

[casdeans-pie]

So it's like this: Dean gets out of bed one night to go have a pee at 3am and he's actually still half asleep when he shuffles back into the room (because there are no more monsters to hunt and he doesn't have to be alert like a feral cat anymore) but when he gets to the doorway there's a lamp on and Cas is sitting up in their bed. The lamplight is warm and inviting and the bedsheet has slipped off of Cas's bare chest and his frowny concentrating face is lit up by his phone, and Dean knows He Just Knows that Cas is playing that weird little farming mobile game that he's addicted to where he's constantly worried about harvesting his crops and feeding his cows. And it just hits Dean full in the chest that it's 3am and there are no more monsters and this is their bed and their room and their lamp and Cas is here playing his silly mobile games with the same expression he gave to reading ancient texts waiting for Dean to come back from his mid-night pee.

He gets to have this. He loves him.

Dean doesn't even realise he's crying until the image of Cas gets too blurry with tears to see anymore and he misses him and he has to roughly rub his eyes to clear them and when he looks back Cas has put the phone down and he's holding his arms open.

Dean launches himself into them.

[microwavebeeep]

I've got this little plot idea in my head, where TFW go on vacation, and Dean says to Cas smth like "No, you're not going to a beach resort in a suit" so he makes Cas wear his clothes. Cas does what his friend says, though he doesn't understand, what's wrong with his trenchcoat.

Well... This decision had a much more unexpected result for Dean... Who knew, what Cas was hiding under all these layers.

[ash-blues]

COMING HOME.

● Some very soft fluff. Dean's coming home after a hunt ●

(This is my very first attempt at posting any of my fan-fiction writing works.)

___________________________________________________________

She pressed her face to deeper into the soft warmth of the pillow. The blanket was low on her waist, as she stirred in her sleep. Her boyfriend had started to appear in her dreams more often. She missed him so. They were quite vivid visions, what she saw in her head.

He was just right next to her, his hands around her waist, pulling her into his chest, grinding against her hips, whispering little sweet nothings into her ears, his fingertips slowly teasing her neck. God, he loved to tease her. His free hand pressed on her hip, slowly raising her pajama top. His hands were cold and that made her whimper. Then…

“Baby.” The whisper seemed all too real. She stirred awake, slowly opening her eyes. Her boyfriend was home. She turned to him, her arms quickly wrapping around his neck as she mumbled a soft, I missed you into his ears.

“You were quite deep asleep, baby. Making some happy noises.” His voice was a quiet tease, and she blushed, ignoring his comment, burying her face in his neck.

“Did you eat?” she whispered.

He hummed, and nodded his hands wrapping around her waist, holding her closer against him.

“What did you dream about?” He seemed insistent, that was because he had a close idea of what she saw in her dream. “Was it me? us?, the dream of the dinner date we had to cancel?”

Maybe it was the sleepy and hazy state she was in, she suddenly wanted to tease him more.  She shook her head.

“It was a wet dream.”

“Oh?” He looked amused, a smirk playing on his face. “Do tell. Brad Pitt? Angelina Jolie?”

She chuckled softly at his stupid remarks.

“You.” She said with a coy smile plastered on her lips. “Right here on our bed. Acting all needy for me.”

"I was the needy one, huh?" She went quiet at that, only smiling and nodding.

"And what were you doing?"

"I was trying to push you off-" He cut her off, as he kisses her lips softly, as if testing the waters. It was her who then pulled him even closer by his jacket. He brought one of his hands from her waist, and held her face, her thumb gently brushing her cheeks. She craved more, as she made a whimpering noise, only partially pulling back from his lips.

His chuckle was deep and teasing.“My baby really missed me, didn’t she?”

“Maybe.”

____________________________________________________________

Do write feedback.

Thank you for reading.

[fbfh]

did you know that Dean wakes up one morning and realizes he has a fucking bombshell of a wife/husband/spouse, a cozy (slightly rural) suburban house, and not one but three fucking daughters???? Did you know that he woke up one morning to toddler giggles and little kid bickering and baby babbling????? and your girls come charging in hushing their little giggles so they don't wake up mommy and daddy and so OBVIOUSLY he has to pretend to be asleep so he doesn't foil their plan. he focuses all his energy on keeping his face and body relaxed, keeping his breathing even. they're whispering and babbling and Dean peeks an eye open and looks at the love of his life and these three angels with their daddy's attitude and their mama's heart. they have your eyes and his smile. they're... the best parts of both of you, and there's something entirely new and beautiful in each of them too.

Bobby Dean is your oldest, and her 4th birthday is just around the corner. She's 3 and 3/4 right now, and won't let anyone forget it.

Your second is Jodi John, or JJ informally. She's fought her way half way through the terrible twos and is already getting a head start on the whole 3 going on 13 thing.

Mary Cass, or Cassie, is your youngest. She's just over a year old, and wants to do everything her big sisters do.

And Dean is looking at your little girls, and at you. He sees the way the morning sunlight dapples in through the window and illuminates their tangled hair and disney princess nightgowns. Your face is all puffy from sleep, and you still smell like the apple pie you made yesterday.

it's real, he realizes. that pipe dream that apple pie life.

you gave that to him. you did that. you turned his deepest, most unspoken desires into a reality like it was nothing. and every ounce of joy and love and peace he feels every moment of every day, he owes it all to you. You try to tell him on occasion when he gets all sentimental on you, he deserves it. he deserves every good thing he feels, and he's so great with the girls, he's a natural dad and you couldn't possibly dream of a better husband to do it with.

Because at his heart, Dean is a family man. He's your family man.

[dorkylilguy]

“𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦.”

[losers-clvb]

sucker for you // dean winchester

pairing: dean winchester x pregnant!wife!reader

summary: dean helps his son fill out class valentines.

content: fluff, domesticity, pregnant reader, dean and reader have a son named max, dean criticizing the different spellings of names

word count: 918

note: happy valentine's day! i was putting together my sisters' valentines baskets and this came to mind. this is my first blurb, i hope you love it!

masterlist

“B-R-A-D-L-E-I-,”

“Wait, wait.” Dean shook his head, holding his hands up to stop his son’s spelling. He set his pen down, taking the list of Max’s classmates into his hand. He squinted at the paper. “You’ve got to be shitting me.” He mumbled.

“Language!” You chimed out from where you stood at the stove at the same time as Max had. It was a cute little thing that the young boy had picked up on, you scolding Dean for his swearing around your son. Well, it was cute up until he had begun to say it to you, which he did frequently when you thought he was in a different room.

“Do these parents think they’re God or somethin’?” Dean grumbled, ignoring you two. You sent a scrunched-nose smile to your son, sending him into giggles. “You can’t just make up names.”

“Dean,” you sighed, waddling over to the man with your hand on your stomach. You were seven months pregnant, but you still felt like you were going to burst at any second. You leaned down to look at the paper in his hand. “Bradleigh is a name.” You told him, raising your eyebrows at him. He rolled his eyes playfully, pointing to the name.

“No. Bradley is a name, Bradleigh is not.” Dean argued, changing the infliction of his tone as he spoke to make his point known. This wasn’t the first time he had a problem with something in Max’s class. At the beginning of the school year he had a very heated email-argument with third grade teacher about the proper snacks to bring to school. Mrs. Bronahan didn’t seem to enjoy the cupcakes Dean would send when it was their turn for snack day.

“Well it is now.” You decided, placing a kiss on his cheek before penguining your way back to your soup.

“Ew.” Max groaned at the romantic gesture. This was a new thing he was doing, finding it gross when you showed any ounce of love toward your husband. You only narrowed your eyes at him, causing him to go into another bout of giggles.

“I’m just sayin’-,” Dean began again, but you cut him off.

“How about you finish those valentines that were supposed to be done last week instead of complaining about how the Millers chose to name their children?” You chided, throwing some seasoning into the pot in front of you. Dean frowned, still looking at the list.

“Yeah Dad.” Max chimed in. He was ever the Mama’s boy, always taking your side unless Dean had bribed him with ice cream for dinner. You smiled at your boy.

“Thank you my love.” You spoke while scrubbing at some of the dishes in the sink.

“Hey now, we tried to do them last week, but Mr. I-need-a-special-card-for-Valerie was distracted.” Dean defended himself, jabbing a thumb at Max. The boy flushed red and tried to hide his face. Valerie, a girl in his class, was his crush-of-the-month. You loved your little boy and his sweet intentions in trying to impress the girl.

“I was not!” Max exclaimed, grabbing a heart-shaped sucker from the pile in front of him. Dean swiped it out of his grasp.

“Were too. And those are for your classmates.” Dean chided while placing the candy back in the pile. Bullshit, Dean had been snacking on them himself just the night before. You remembered his red lips and sugary sweet kisses. You made your way back to the boys and handed Max the candy back before taking one for yourself.

“Thanks Mama.” Max squeaked out before shoving the sucker into his mouth. Your heart jumped at the name. Recently, he had been set on calling you “Mom” instead of his usual “Mama”, but there were still times he slipped up. You didn’t want him to grow up. You wanted him to be your baby forever and keep him right where you could make sure he was safe.

Dean gave you a stink eye, but there was no heat in it. He knew better than to argue with his pregnant wife. You popped your own sucker into your mouth, letting the artificial cherry melt onto your tongue while you rubbed Dean’s shoulders.

“Whatever. Let’s get back to it, man.” Dean relaxed into your touch, giving Max the class list again. They worked in tandem, Max spelling each of the names with minimal criticisms from Dean and his Sharpie.

Once they were finished -- it really hadn’t taken that much time, there were only twenty kids --, Dean twisted his head up to look at you. You smiled down to him and the twinkle in his eye told you he was about to say something cheesy.

“You know,” he began, his hand wrapping around yours, “I’m a sucker for you, honey.” He finished the saying that had been printed on each sucker wrapper and kissed your knuckles. You laughed softly at him.

“Gross!” Max exclaimed, looking away from the two of you. You ignored him and placed a kiss on your husband’s lips. Dean chuckled at his son, shaking his head.

“One day you’re gonna be kissin’ your wife, kid. Maybe even Valerie.” Dean teased, poking at the young boy’s side. Max covered his face with his hands, but you still caught the sheepish smile.

“I love you both.” You mumbled and leaned into Dean, his fingers lacing into yours. You were happy. This was your family, and even with all the small flaws, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[melle-otterwise]

Merry Christmas 🎅

Secret Santa gift for @queerwolf79 💛💛

It is an illustration for their and @anyreiart 's lovely fic "True Happiness" that can be read here 📚💚💙

Merry Christmas!!