#soft!dean

[rizlowwritessortof]

The Truth

I didn't get this drabble done in time for @artyandink 's Jensen-a-thon, but here it is, anyway 🙂

Just a little soft, tipsy Dean and a moment of truth

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 760

Warnings: None (although soft!Dean is a warning in itself)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

You sink into fragrant, steaming water, a blissful smile on your lips. You slide down to rest your head against the back of the tub, breathing deep of the vanilla and lavender scent, appreciating with every cell of your body the relaxing quiet and the privacy.

The guys are at the bar, celebrating the successful end of another hunt. You had opted for a few hours to yourself, and after Dean finally gave up trying to convince you to change your mind, they had headed out, leaving you to enjoy a little private time. You love them, you really do – Sam is like the brother you never had, and Dean… Well, Dean is basically the bane of your existence, the temptation you won’t give into, the best friend that you won’t allow yourself to have benefits with. And sometimes you just need a break from the constant magnetic pull that exists between the two of you.

You soak to your heart’s content, finally exiting the bathroom and donning a pair of sleep shorts and an old ZZ Top t-shirt so old that you can barely read the printing on it anymore. You are all smooth, soft and completely relaxed, and you settle down into the comfy old sofa, bowl of popcorn in hand, smiling happily. You settle in with a little wiggle, turning the TV on and scrolling through until you find an old mystery movie.

You’re just getting into the plot when the door opens and your solitude ends. You can tell when they walk in that they’ve had plenty to drink, and you watch with amusement as Sam shoots you a crooked smile and heads for the shower and Dean attempts to remove his boots.

He almost falls over a couple of times, then finally plops down on the nearest bed, finally managing to get both boots off. He stands back upright, swaying just a little before he makes a beeline for the popcorn on the coffee table next to your feet. He tosses a few fluffy kernels into his mouth and plops down on the couch beside you. “Whatcha watchin’?”

“Just an old movie. Mystery thriller or something.”

“Black and white – classic.” He stares at the TV with you for a couple of minutes, then suddenly goes horizontal, head in your lap as if he belongs there.

You stare down at him with an amused smile. “Comfy?” He’s always a little extra affectionate when he drinks, but he’s never done this before.

“Mmmm, yeah.” He shuffles around a bit until he’s good and comfortable. “Hey, who’s that?” he asks, pointing at the TV.

“The actress? Barbara Stanwyck.”

“She’s pretty sexy.”

You grin. “Dean, you’d think a baked potato was sexy right now. You’re drunk.”

“Mmmmmm, that sounds good. But hey – I have fucking great taste, even when I’m drunk. Which I am not.” He’s quiet for a moment, then says quietly, “I think you’re sexy. And beautiful.” You let out a soft, derisive snort, and he turns to his back and looks up at you. “Why don’t you ever believe me when I say nice things to you?”

You hesitate for a second, then answer, a teasing tone in your voice. “Another thing you do when you’re drunk is lie to women.” His eyes are heavy-lidded and solemn as he blinks slowly, and your smile fades as he reaches for your hand, gathering it to his chest and holding it close.

“I don’t lie to you.”

The atmosphere has shifted, emotions you refuse to identify swelling in your chest at his words and the look in his eyes, but before you can begin to think of a response, Dean turns back to his side and settles in again, his scruff softer than you would expect against your skin. “You smell good.” He rubs his cheek against your thigh. “And you’re soft.” He lets out a contented little sigh, hugging your forearm snug against his chest.

In a matter of minutes he is breathing slow and steady, obviously asleep, and you stare down at him, the movie forgotten. Sam comes out of the bathroom just then, looking at the two of you on the sofa with a crooked smile.

“Need me to help move him?” he asks, and you smile back, ducking your head a little to hide your blush.

“No, he’s okay.”

“All right – just wake me up if you change your mind,” he says, crawling into one of the beds and shutting off the lamp, leaving the room dark except for the glow of the television.

Tags for my lovelies: 

 @saenalife    @deanscarlett    @jensensgotyoudean    @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis    @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog 

   @geeklibrarian    @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid      @mrswhozeewhatsis    @littlegreenplasticsoldier    @sleep-silent-angel  

  @darcia22    @winchesterprincessbride    @ellen-reincarnated1967    @eyes-of-a-disney-princess      @deanslittleangel2y5  

  @melanie451        @spectaculacular-sammy     @bookchic20    @jodyri    @selma-jean-blog   

        @savingapplepie-eatingthings    @kittenofdoomage    @masked-maiden42    @lean-mean-deanwinchester    @ericuhlorain  

  @undecided-garden    @ceeceewinchester    @typicalweirdbookworm          @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit    @youtoldalie 

   @tanithlowisabamf-blog    @deandoesthingstome    @jxackles    @nerdwholikesword    @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic  

  @kreweofimp  @gabavaldman    @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog    @darkx143    @disassociativedogma   

 @ioanashalala    @jencharlan    @deansthirstblog     @dorky-and-i-know-it    @mischief-maker1   

 @winchestersandwordprocessors    @percussiongirl2017    @bringmesomepie56   @akshi8278    @torn-and-frayed  

  @sandlee44   @wingedcatninja  @evansrogerskitten   @emoryhemsworth  @peaceinourtime82 

 @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior  @sarcasmqueen74   @maliburenee     @mrsjenniferwinchester   @yeehawbitchs  

 @emily-winchester  @hobby27    spnbaby-67   @zepskies  @ladysparkles78  

@alwaystiredandconfused   @just-another-busyfangirl

[zepskies]

Sharing Is Caring (II)

Pairing: Dean W. x Female Reader 

Summary: Navigating a new relationship means learning how to share a bed with Dean. [3-part series with Sam, Dean, and Castiel.]

Word Count: 900 Warnings: Fluff!~

Part 2: Dean

You expelled a tired sigh as you pulled back the covers and got into bed—Dean’s bed. It was new, and still a little strange to sleep in his room more consistently than your own in the bunker. 

But he’d cleared a drawer in the bathroom and a nightstand for some of your things. The thought made you smile, along with Dean himself as he stepped out of the bathroom freshly showered and shaved. He was dressed in a simple shirt and sleep pants, bare-footed. 

You liked that you got to see him this way: out of his hunter layers, softer, and comfortable with you. 

He approached the bed and tsked at you, crossing his arms. You raised a brow at him.

“What?” 

“First of all, you’re on my side,” Dean said.

He waggled a finger at you, gesturing to move over. You gave him a flat look.

“I cleared the nightstand on the left for you,” he added. 

“I appreciate that,” you replied, “but I like it over here on the right.”

“Well, so do I. And that happens to be my side.”

Dean could be stubborn about the most random things. You two hadn’t been together long (officially, that is). And though you thought you’d known him pretty well, you were starting to learn more and more about the little things that could hotwire his brain.  

“You didn’t have a side before,” you accused. “I’ve seen you twisted up and spread-eagled in the middle of the bed like a damn starfish.”

He gave you a look of annoyance crossed with denial. 

“Yeah, well. My bed my rules, sweetheart.” Dean moved in behind you and bodily rolled you over to what he deemed as your side. You yelped and shot him an incredulous look over your shoulder.

But you fought back and grappled with him, holding onto his arms and taking most of the blankets and sheets with you as he pushed you over. 

“Hey! This is basically our bed now. I think I should get some say,” you said through rounds of giggles. A smirk crossed Dean’s face. 

But he soon grunted as a pillow smacked him in the face. “Hey!” 

You laughed and tried wriggling out of his grip. It didn’t do much good; Dean was stronger than you even on your best day, but you were more flexible.

You curled your legs around his right thigh and managed to twist him onto his back. You gained the leverage, pushing down on his shoulders from above while you straddled his waist. 

“Ha!” You stared down at him with a mischievous smirk while catching your breath. Dean looked up at you with grinning eyes, his hands molding to your hips. The little shorts you wore to bed were driving him a bit crazy, and he bunched the material there on reflex. His thumbs grazed your skin underneath and made tingles run up your spine.  

“You realize this is a hollow victory, right?” he said. You tilted your head in question.

“Hmm?”

Then his grip on your hips tightened, and with a gasp, you were tumbling to the side and being rolled again. 

Dean literally came out on top, looking down on you. His grin was fond and amused as he brushed your hair away from your face. You couldn’t resist; you pulled him down by his shirt for a kiss. 

You caught the scent of his aftershave, tasted his minty freshness. His tongue slipped between your lips as he deepened the kiss. And he braced his hands on either side of you while you slid your fingers through his short hair. 

You almost sighed in contentment…but a curious thought was nagging at the back of your mind and wouldn’t let go. 

So you released his lower lip with a soft nip, and you pulled away enough to meet his confused (and heated) eyes. 

“But seriously, why do you want the right side so bad?” you asked, raising a hand to stroke the side of his face. You actually liked the way his stubble scratched your palm. 

Dean paused. His gaze shifted in a way that told you the reason went deeper than you’d thought.  

“It’s nothin’. I just wanna be closer to the door, that’s all,” he said. 

You blinked up at him in amusement. “We’re in the bunker. You think a burglar’s gonna come bursting in or something?”

“Or something,” Dean said. He wasn’t kidding around. 

Your smile softened. Something else you’d learned about Dean: he knew you could protect yourself just fine, but that didn’t stop him from putting himself between you and danger whenever he could help it. 

“Who says chivalry’s dead,” you teased. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Okay.” 

I’m done, said his tone.

But you could tell he was trying to stem off his embarrassment. He was a bigger softie than he was willing to admit. 

He started to shift off you to his side of the bed, but you followed him. You tucked yourself against him and slipped your leg between both of his, shimmying around to get comfortable. Dean nearly rolled his eyes again as your antics shook the bed. But he still wrapped an arm around your waist.

You then laid your head against his chest. His heart beat at a steady pace under your cheek, and you sighed. 

“Comfortable?” he asked wryly. His hand covered yours on his chest. You nodded. 

“With you, always,” you whispered. 

You couldn’t see it, but a smile curved Dean’s lips as your words inevitably warmed him inside.

AN: So a nice soft one for Dean in this little series! Castiel is up next (last but certainly not least).

To read Part 1: Sam

To read Part 3: Castiel

TAG LIST:

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @this-is-me19

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[miss-madness67]

Xenia (Dean Winchester One shot)

Baucis and Philemon retelling. Dean and Sam as Zeus and Hermes. Reader as Baucis and Philemon.

It was no secret that the almighty King John Winchester was looking for a wife to marry his eldest son. The whole kingdom was aware of this fact, and every young girl of age sought to be chosen to become the next queen of Winchester. For this reason, the castle was constantly being visited by noblewomen and commoners alike. It was a blessing the King made no distinction between the high class and the lower class. On the other hand, this only brought more problems to Crown Prince Dean. Foremost, every girl he met was interested in marrying him, and he had no idea who wanted to do so because they liked him, and who wanted to do so because they wanted the power that came with it. In addition to this, the prince did not desire to marry out of an arrangement or pressure. Deep down, he wanted to find true love, even if it was a fairy tale notion.

“But father, I have told you before that there is no need for me to get a wife,” Dean said one day to his father for the thousandth time.

John Winchester, perched on his throne like a true king, took no time to answer to the tantrum. “I am not getting any younger, and soon enough, you will be the next king of Winchester, you need a wife to support you and to give you heirs.”

Another thing that was well-known by the whole kingdom was the precarious health of the king. Everyone knew that, since his wife and previous queen Mary died years ago, his health had declined considerably. A kingdom with a weak leader was going to soon enough become a target of war. The people were sure that the only reason why neighboring kings have not attacked yet was because of the existing strong princes, Dean and Sam. People were well aware of their courage and intelligence. Nevertheless, John Winchester's arguments were true, for neighboring kingdoms to respect the ascension of Dean, he needed to have a future queen.

“I can rule on my own, I do not need a wife, I have Sammy to step up if needed…” Dean left the commentary unfinished, he knew this was not going to convince his father.

“A queen has an important role in the monarchy, Dean, the kingdom has suffered long enough without one.” Then, he looked at Sam, who was currently standing to the right of his brother. “And Sam will have other duties to fulfill as the new Crown Prince until you have heirs.” After that talk, there were no more complaints on Dean’s part for a while.

During the next month or so, the Winchester castle celebrated several different gatherings in order to look for a potential queen. Dean met dozens of girls from various social standings and physical appearances, yet he found all of them to be extremely dull or material. There was not one that he considered salvageable. At first, his father wanted him to be the one to decide on his wife, but once he saw that his son was not interested in the slightest, King John took the matter into his own hands.

“If none of the girls you have met so far is of your interest, I will be the one who chooses for you.”

That is the last thing that he wanted, so Dean pleaded to his brother for help. Sam, ever the wise man, came up with a solution to Dean’s problem. “You don’t want any of these women because they only care about your face, money, or power, am I right?” Sam inquired.

“Yes, I swear, there is no one girl who I can have a normal conversation with. All they care about is the future Queen position.” The annoyance in Dean’s voice was clear as day.

“And father mentioned that he wanted you to find a kind woman, someone who cared about the people, like Mother.” A plan was forming in Sam’s mind. “I know what we have to do.”

The idea that Sam proposed was simple enough; they would test their unknowing subjects to see who could be worthy of the crown, and at the same time, it would allow Dean to meet someone without the advantages of being the prince. First, they decided to take the plan to their father for approval. John was a little skeptical of the results, but he supported his boys with the condition that, if the plan were to fail, Dean would marry a girl John saw fit. The Crown Prince accepted begrudgingly.

The next part of the scheme was to have the royal magician create a concoction strong enough to change a man’s appearance. The whole kingdom could recognize them by face, and for the plan to work, discretion was a must. Thus, the wizard supplied them with the potion that could change how they looked for everyone else. One for Dean and one for Sam, because they would go together on their little adventure. They only needed to wait for the perfect moment to cast their strategy. On a fated day of storm, they drank the elixir and went into town, looking for a soul kind enough to let them stay the night.

The brothers departed highly optimistic, thinking that their people were warmhearted because all their life they received nothing but kindness, being royals. Dean was even worried about not being able to choose a wife among so many. Sadly, they rapidly realized that would not be the case. The potion that made them unrecognizable also made them incredibly ugly and dirty, which was realistic given their awful clothing. Closed door after closed door, negative after negative, the princes made their way through town.

One of the first houses that they went to, was that of lady Cassie. Out of all the women Dean had met, she was probably the most tolerable to think about marrying. She was a dark-skinned beauty with a fiery personality. Though, as soon as Sam and Dean rang their doorbell, they were met with judging stares and unfriendly words. Not only the butler did not want to let them come in, but also lady Cassie herself declined to help them get out of the pouring rain. Ultimately, they had to leave for the next house. Eventually, they made their way through all the nobility, with none of them offering shelter to the princes.

They had a list of the houses where they knew all young marriageable women lived, so at least they did not have to go through every single house in the kingdom. Still, there were a few. That was how they knew where to knock when they reached the town folk. Jo Harvelle’s house was next on the list. With soaked-trough clothing, Dean expected to be let in by people with a more humble background. Nevertheless, when Jo opened the door, she made a disgusted gesture and closed it back immediately after. Through the thick wood, they heard her scream her refusal to let them come in. They continued going from house to house, and every negative sent a pang of heartache to Dean’s chest. He did not think his subjects were this unkind to travelers. By the time they reached the last house on the list, Dean was sure his father was going to marry him off to the best suitor, possibly one of the many girls that thought him disgusting this night.

“Let’s just go home, Sammy,” Dean murmured, defeated, “there is no one in this town that desires to know me for me.”

Sam, however, still had hope. “There is one house left, come on.”

Their tired steps guided them to your doorstep, where they knocked gingerly on the wood. You were still awake by the time they came, you were sewing a dress for one of your customers that needed it to be delivered the next day. You were not precisely the poorest of the kingdom, but considering that you had no parents to take care of you from a young age, you had to step up to acquire a living. Most of the time you did little jobs, such as cleaning and cooking for other people, but your specialty was repairing and creating cheap clothing for the town folk. The current dress that you were making was for Anna Milton, apparently, she wanted to cause a good impression on the Crown Prince in one of the upcoming balls. You had heard a lot how about the Prince was searching for a wife, and while your friends tried to convince you to participate in the unofficial competition, you were not interested in it, why would a prince marry a commoner like you? Even if the Winchester royals saw no distinction between nobles and commoners, you could not imagine yourself becoming the next queen.

You approached the door with hesitant steps, it was very late in the night, and you lived alone, so being careful was a must. On the other side of the threshold awaited two young but lanky men. They were shivering from the cold of the midnight air, their clothes soaked through. The rain was heavy outside, so you were not surprised by the sight. What made you waver on the doorstep was their appearance altogether. You were not a person that judged others easily based on their looks, but these men were possibly the ugliest people you’d ever seen. Not only their faces were ugly, but also their clothing could only be described as rags. There was nowhere you could look at them without feeling repulsed. Nonetheless, you clearly noticed that they needed your help.

“Hello, my name is Seth, and this is my brother Dan.” Half of your brain screamed at you to close the door; what if they were dangerous? Though, the gentleness in Seth’s voice held you still. “We are not from around here, we do not have enough money to stay at the inn, and we were hoping some kind soul would allow us to stay the night. We just seek shelter from the rain.”

Seth seemed to be telling the truth, however, that did not take away the fact that you lived alone, and letting two strange men spend the night was dangerous. “I do not know…” The doubt was clear in your voice. You wanted to be a good person, you really did, and considering your house was at the end of the lane, it meant that they probably already had gone to the other homes in the village. No one else dared to give them asylum.

“We have nowhere else to go,” this time, the plea came from the other one, Dan. His eyes looked into yours and for some reason, your heart started to beat faster. You found yourself nodding and stepping away to let them in. The brothers seemed surprised, like they did not believe you would actually allow them in. Even if the eldest was really hoping you would.

Dean -or Dan- took in your features like a thirsty man as you guided them to your very small living room. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he had seen plenty. Not only because you gave them a place to stay, but also because you really were gorgeous. That was how he knew you had never gone to one of his balls, or to the castle in general. He would have remembered your face if you had.

“Here, take this to dry off.” You gave them some big leftover fabric from one of your previous projects. The material felt warm and cozy as they wrapped it around themselves.

“You are very kind,” Dan praised and to his delight, you blushed slightly. Then, as he was sitting on one of the chairs, he noticed the dress you had been working on. “That is very pretty, are you planning on using it for the Crown Prince’s next ball?” If so, then Dean had something to look forward to.

“Ah, no, you murmured.” How could he think such a pretty item is meant for you? “I create clothing for the townspeople, sometimes even the nobles. This one is for someone else.”

Dan seemed disappointed by your response. “I see…”

You did not know why, but you started explaining. “Yes, the business has increased ever since the Crown Prince said he was looking for a wife,” you laughed lightly, “everyone wants to be the new queen.”

The way said it made the brothers pause. It was like you found the situation funny. “You don’t think he should look for a queen?” Dean asked.

With a gentle smile, you gestured for them to sit at the table. “That is not it, I think he will need a partner, but having extravagant balls and being pressured to choose is not the right way for him to find the one.” You looked Dan in the eye as you said your next words. “I mean, if I were him, I would hate to be forced to marry someone that I do not love.”

If Dean previously thought you were a gorgeous woman, now he believed you were the perfect creature. You understood him in a way no one else, but his brother, did. John Winchester was too preoccupied with trying to leave the kingdom in good hands to even consider his son’s happiness. The women in court, all of his prospects, they only cared about getting the big prize. His brother understood him, and now you did too, and he might have passed out with the realization that it was you. You were who he was looking for and no one else. Sure, it was too soon for Dean to say that he was in love, but there was something there, a spark he never found with any of the others. The promise of a future with someone who could understand him, who was kind, who he could love. The fact that you were totally his type was just a bonus.

“Please wait for a moment, let me find something for you to eat, you must be starving.”

Seth -Sam- went to stop you, “oh, there is really no need. Shelter from the rain was all we were looking for.”

You made a dismissing gesture, “nonsense, what kind of host would I be if I did not offer you food?” You smiled sweetly at them. Dean’s heart skipped a beat. “Besides, I have some delicious leftover pie I made yesterday… it is not every day that I have such a delicacy.”

“Pie?” Dean’s stomach grumbled at the thought of it. You giggled at the reaction.

“It is apple, my favorite, wait here…” And before Sam could protest again, you disappeared into the other room.

For a second, neither of them spoke, then; “Sammy, I think I am going to marry her.”

Sam snickered, “why? Because of the pie?”

“No, not because of the pie…”

That night, you served them food and offered them a place to stay. When the clock stroke 3 a.m. and Sam had gone to sleep, you and Dean kept on talking. Eventually, you fell asleep at some point in the night. The last thing you remembered was being at the dining table, but you woke up in your room. You were still wearing the same clothes as the previous day, so at first, you had trouble recalling Dan and Seth’s visit. It was until you heard a masculine voice coming from outside your bedroom that everything came back to you.

You recollected permitting two strange men to stay in your house, which had been probably a very questionable decision. You wanted to help them stay away from the cold and prove that not everyone was unfriendly to travelers. Despite something in your common sense telling you that perhaps they could be bad for you, that they could do something to you, you had allowed them to stay. Now, in the morning, you did not regret it. The chat you had with Dan had been very special for you. You never had thought you would feel this way about someone, but there was a distinctive connection with him. You hadn’t had a good time with anyone else in a while, not the way you did with him.

As you made your way to the living room, you started to hear male voices, in your still-sleep brain, you did not recognize the clear difference from Seth and Dan’s voices. It was until you were right in front of them that you realized the people before you were not the travelers you helped yesterday. In your tiny and poor kitchen, Crown Prince Dean and Prince Sam stood. They were in such a deep discussion that they did not notice you at first, it was until you let out an audible gasp that they looked your way.

“Princes, what- what are you-?” Flabbergasted, you only managed to bow.

“Please, please, none of that,” Crown Prince Dean objected. When your eyes clashed with his, you had the feeling that you had seen them before, but different. It was shortly after that, that you found out the truth.

As the Princes explained to you that they were actually the man you previously allowed to stay in your home -Dan and Seth- they also ended up telling you everything about their plan. How the Crown Prince was indeed looking for a wife. How he struggled with that idea, and even more so with finding someone. They also told you about their plan to find the kindest woman in the village. You did not believe that was you, but you accepted their explanations as the truth. Foremost, because there was not an ounce of lies in their eyes, but mostly because you could feel with Dean the same connection you had with Dan. It also helped that they were still dressed in their previous clothing.

Finally, when Dean talked to you about marriage, you were considerably surprised, but not entirely opposed to the idea. You could understand that his father was pressuring him to settle down, but that did not mean you wanted to take away from him the possibility of choosing, even if he claimed he would rather marry you than any other of the girls he met. Ultimately, you agreed to marry because, in that short period of time, you had felt for him in a way you had not had for anyone. It was not a matter of the crown, the money, or not even about his looks, it was about Dean as a person. Dean was very happy once you accepted, and that very day, everyone in the kingdom heard the good news. Eventually, time would go by and that would be the story you’d tell your children. The story of a kind soul who allowed a traveler stay in her home.

Tags: @sweetwerewolfqueen @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @perpetualabsurdity @deanswaywardgirl @seppys-return-to-madness @hobby27 @desimarie12 @mrspeacem1nusone

[intheeyeofthebeheld]

This is so sweet and pretty

I know this is a little bit strange because it’s months past due -and the toxic perfectionist that dwells in my skull really DID really hesitate to post this- but back in January I was too ill to finish this little story and then lost motivation because I was already too late. Still, since I was pretty fond of it (and the stupid hats), I recently decided to give it a “half finish” because I didn’t like leaving it incomplete. 

…AKA: I discovered “seraphinite” is a real stone and lost my entire damn mind.

Anyway, sketchiness aside, I hope you like it anyway.

(Please don’t repost; reblogs are fine.) 

_____________

Leave me a tip if you like my work! It truly means the world. 

[figthoughts]

sleepy motel mornings with dean winchester (bf!dean x gf!reader)

*ೃ༄

you began to stir as you heard the soft rustling of the bedsheets behind you. a tired hum escaped your lips as you felt dean untangle his body from yours, a stark coldness replacing the warmth of his touch on your skin as he pulled away. your eyes fluttered open.

“hey, where’re you going so fast?” you pouted, your eyes still puffy from sleep as you rolled over, watching dean begin to hop out of the bed. you wrapped your hand around his arm and pulled him back down next to you.

dean laid his head back on the pillow with a slight grunt and turned to you, a warm smile spreading across his sleepy face, “gonna make you some coffee, baby.”

a smile grew on your lips at his deep gravelly morning voice and you blinked a few times, trying to adjust your eyes to the brightness of the motel room. after a moment of looking at his sweet sleepy face, you shook your head and pulled him closer, “later.”

dean sighed and leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, a silent show of his love. he draped an arm over your side and you closed your eyes, soaking in his comforting and familiar scent; motel soap mixed with his cheap sandalwood and whiskey cologne. a strange combination, but one you've come to love and yearn for on nights when you're apart.

you smiled a little dopily under his touch as he pulled his face back to look at you. you found his eyes and flashed a playful, but pleading look at him, “stay with me. you’re warm.”

“oh, is that it?” he laughed softly, “you want me to stay just because i’m warm?”

you gently shook your head and looked at him with love and sincerity in your expression, “no, you’re warm and i love you.”

dean grinned, his green eyes lighting up at your words, “sap,” he teased and poked your side, “i love you too, baby.”

you couldn’t suppress the soft chuckle from escaping your lips. you sat up and lazily threw a leg over his waist, relaxing down on his lap. your hands found their way to his cheeks, cupping them gently as you held his head to meet your tender gaze.

dean’s hands sat on your thighs, rubbing the soft skin under your pyjama shorts. his eyes fluttered shut and he hummed as you leaned down and began leaving small kisses all over his face.

dean couldn’t help but laugh while you peppered soft little kisses on him; along his forehead, down his nose, over his cheeks and quick cheeky pecks on his lips. you held his face in your hands as your lips worked over his soft skin, each kiss a little mark of your love for the sleepy green-eyed hunter in front of you.

you hummed absent-mindedly, smiling to yourself as you kissed over his freckled cheeks. dean let out a quiet huff and you pulled away to look at him. his cheeks turned blush pink as you met his gaze and you could tell he was trying to keep his smile from growing any bigger.

“what was that for?” he asked, his gentle green eyes searching yours, his fingers mindlessly tapping on your thighs.

“cause i love you, deanie. a thousand more and you’re free to make our coffees,” you grinned and began leaving more tiny kisses on him as he sighed defeatedly with a smile.

A/N: soft dean! soft dean! soft dean! my favourite dean tbh i don’t think i’ve posted any fluff on here so here’s a short little something lol enjoy! <3

requests and feedback are welcome! reblogs support me and my writing! ty!

[superwowvibes]

what doyou mean the boyfriends are fighting please don't fight guys

[eremin0109]

Rewatching season 6 and I just think that we all moved on a little too quickly from how terrifyingly good Castiel is at "interrogation".

Ripping people's heads with his bare hands, torturing monsters (even the relatively good ones) to get information about purgatory out of them, being described as even worse than Crowley at carving people out (and that's saying something because Crowley is BAD bad).

It's here when him being an ANGEL really comes into the play. He's almost always the most powerful being in the room, his meek-looking vessel only acting as a decoy for people to brush him off as harmless. But this season really delves into why he was one of Heaven's most decorated soldiers and why it was specifically him who was chosen to lead the siege to hell way back in season 4.

He's a fucking war machine, no wonder everyone's a little afraid of him.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

One of my favourite episodes of the whole series! 😍 Such a beautiful, heartbreaking episode. And soft!dean never fails to make me weak, and just wanna cuddle him. 🥺

Bonus: He's also sexy AF in this episode. 🥵

softest boy in the world and his too long sleeves 🥺

starting a collection, feel free to add on <3

[sunflowernovak]

old married couple

[strawlessandbraless]

How are you Dean?

[zepskies]

Aww I love this! A drunk, sleepy, earnest Dean is a good Dean. 😂👌🏽

“I don’t lie to you,” to me was almost an “I love you” without saying it, if that makes sense. 💗

(But lmaoo the baked potato line took me out! 😂😂) 👏🏽

The Truth

I didn't get this drabble done in time for @artyandink 's Jensen-a-thon, but here it is, anyway 🙂

Just a little soft, tipsy Dean and a moment of truth

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 760

Warnings: None (although soft!Dean is a warning in itself)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

You sink into fragrant, steaming water, a blissful smile on your lips. You slide down to rest your head against the back of the tub, breathing deep of the vanilla and lavender scent, appreciating with every cell of your body the relaxing quiet and the privacy.

The guys are at the bar, celebrating the successful end of another hunt. You had opted for a few hours to yourself, and after Dean finally gave up trying to convince you to change your mind, they had headed out, leaving you to enjoy a little private time. You love them, you really do – Sam is like the brother you never had, and Dean… Well, Dean is basically the bane of your existence, the temptation you won’t give into, the best friend that you won’t allow yourself to have benefits with. And sometimes you just need a break from the constant magnetic pull that exists between the two of you.

You soak to your heart’s content, finally exiting the bathroom and donning a pair of sleep shorts and an old ZZ Top t-shirt so old that you can barely read the printing on it anymore. You are all smooth, soft and completely relaxed, and you settle down into the comfy old sofa, bowl of popcorn in hand, smiling happily. You settle in with a little wiggle, turning the TV on and scrolling through until you find an old mystery movie.

You’re just getting into the plot when the door opens and your solitude ends. You can tell when they walk in that they’ve had plenty to drink, and you watch with amusement as Sam shoots you a crooked smile and heads for the shower and Dean attempts to remove his boots.

He almost falls over a couple of times, then finally plops down on the nearest bed, finally managing to get both boots off. He stands back upright, swaying just a little before he makes a beeline for the popcorn on the coffee table next to your feet. He tosses a few fluffy kernels into his mouth and plops down on the couch beside you. “Whatcha watchin’?”

“Just an old movie. Mystery thriller or something.”

“Black and white – classic.” He stares at the TV with you for a couple of minutes, then suddenly goes horizontal, head in your lap as if he belongs there.

You stare down at him with an amused smile. “Comfy?” He’s always a little extra affectionate when he drinks, but he’s never done this before.

“Mmmm, yeah.” He shuffles around a bit until he’s good and comfortable. “Hey, who’s that?” he asks, pointing at the TV.

“The actress? Barbara Stanwyck.”

“She’s pretty sexy.”

You grin. “Dean, you’d think a baked potato was sexy right now. You’re drunk.”

“Mmmmmm, that sounds good. But hey – I have fucking great taste, even when I’m drunk. Which I am not.” He’s quiet for a moment, then says quietly, “I think you’re sexy. And beautiful.” You let out a soft, derisive snort, and he turns to his back and looks up at you. “Why don’t you ever believe me when I say nice things to you?”

You hesitate for a second, then answer, a teasing tone in your voice. “Another thing you do when you’re drunk is lie to women.” His eyes are heavy-lidded and solemn as he blinks slowly, and your smile fades as he reaches for your hand, gathering it to his chest and holding it close.

“I don’t lie to you.”

The atmosphere has shifted, emotions you refuse to identify swelling in your chest at his words and the look in his eyes, but before you can begin to think of a response, Dean turns back to his side and settles in again, his scruff softer than you would expect against your skin. “You smell good.” He rubs his cheek against your thigh. “And you’re soft.” He lets out a contented little sigh, hugging your forearm snug against his chest.

In a matter of minutes he is breathing slow and steady, obviously asleep, and you stare down at him, the movie forgotten. Sam comes out of the bathroom just then, looking at the two of you on the sofa with a crooked smile.

“Need me to help move him?” he asks, and you smile back, ducking your head a little to hide your blush.

“No, he’s okay.”

“All right – just wake me up if you change your mind,” he says, crawling into one of the beds and shutting off the lamp, leaving the room dark except for the glow of the television.

Tags for my lovelies: 

 @saenalife    @deanscarlett    @jensensgotyoudean    @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis    @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog 

   @geeklibrarian    @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid      @mrswhozeewhatsis    @littlegreenplasticsoldier    @sleep-silent-angel  

  @darcia22    @winchesterprincessbride    @ellen-reincarnated1967    @eyes-of-a-disney-princess      @deanslittleangel2y5  

  @melanie451        @spectaculacular-sammy     @bookchic20    @jodyri    @selma-jean-blog   

        @savingapplepie-eatingthings    @kittenofdoomage    @masked-maiden42    @lean-mean-deanwinchester    @ericuhlorain  

  @undecided-garden    @ceeceewinchester    @typicalweirdbookworm          @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit    @youtoldalie 

   @tanithlowisabamf-blog    @deandoesthingstome    @jxackles    @nerdwholikesword    @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic  

  @kreweofimp  @gabavaldman    @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog    @darkx143    @disassociativedogma   

 @ioanashalala    @jencharlan    @deansthirstblog     @dorky-and-i-know-it    @mischief-maker1   

 @winchestersandwordprocessors    @percussiongirl2017    @bringmesomepie56   @akshi8278    @torn-and-frayed  

  @sandlee44   @wingedcatninja  @evansrogerskitten   @emoryhemsworth  @peaceinourtime82 

 @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior  @sarcasmqueen74   @maliburenee     @mrsjenniferwinchester   @yeehawbitchs  

 @emily-winchester  @hobby27    spnbaby-67   @zepskies  @ladysparkles78  

@alwaystiredandconfused   @just-another-busyfangirl

[witchy-worm]

I'm so happy to share this Christmas collab I did with @friendofcarlotta! She wrote an incredible canonverse Christmas story (with lots of angst and a happy ending), and I got to draw this incredibly soft scene to go along with it!

Please go check out the fic here: Link to Fic

Thank you to everyone who has supported me and my art this year, I cannot say how much it has meant to me & how much it has motivated me to make even more art. When I dipped my toes into this fandom earlier this year I could not have imagined it would lead to me making so much art, joining so many bangs, and meeting so many cool & incredible people in this fandom 🩵💚

[katastrophicmind]

Pillow Talkin'

summary: you and Dean talk about the future, in bed, pure fluff

pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

wc: 381

+:★:+*━━*+:★:+*━━*+:★:+*━━*+:★:+

Dean rolls away from you, back onto the thin motel mattress, supporting himself by leaning up on his elbow, staring down at you with that cocky grin you know all too well.

“Must you cheapen the moment, Dean?”

“...Sorry sweetheart” he drawls lazily, eyes half-lidded in a post-coital haze.

“Why’re ya staring?”

Dean sighs, “just thinking”, reaching down to gently curl his fingers around your wrist, pulling it up to press a soft kiss on your palm before intertwining his fingers with yours, giving a soft, loving squeeze.

“Alright,” you say, entertaining your boyfriend’s game, “what’re you thinking about?”

“You, us, our future. Wondering if maybe we’ll settle down and get married — end up makin' you Mrs. Dean Winchester — buy a house, have ourselves some rugrats runnin’ around one day. Wonderin’ if Sammy will give our brats some cousins.” Dean rolls his eyes at that, of course, his brother will settle down and have a few kids, that’s practically his life’s ambition. “I’ve been thinking…I could try out being a firefighter, y’know? Still savin’ people, riskin’ my life, but not as much as I do now. And I'd get to come home to my pretty little housewife.” He finishes with a wink.

“Really, Dean?” you say, quirking a brow. “You’d settle down, give up hunting and live a normal, apple pie life? I find that hard to believe. And," you add as an unamused afterthought, "who says I’d just be your housewife.”

Dean brings your hand back up to his lips, closing his eyes and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “Long as you’re there with me sweetheart, I’d give it all up in a heartbeat. All you gotta do is say the word.”

You wait a beat before speaking with mock disgust, “And the housewife part?”

Dean chuckles, “Just like the thought of takin’ care of you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and giggle, images of blond-haired, freckled children running around, flashing through your mind. Dean coming home from a long day of work to spoil you and the children. “I’ve known you for three years already Dean Winchester, yet you still always manage to surprise me.”

“We got plenty of years of surprises left, sweetheart,” Dean says with a sly wink, wrapping you up in his arms.

+:★:+*━━*+:★:+*━━*+:★:+*━━*+:★:+

a/n: heyy so sorry if this is crappy i haven't written in quite a while and decided to restart with a new blog. Dean might be kinda ooc but I'm soft for soft Dean so lmk what u think, tysm :P

[whoopsitswincest]

Okay hear me out

THIS dean -

- with THIS Sam

[lambmotifz]

kinda insane how more than half of spn fandom genuinely believes that “dean is such a softie-caring-mommy towards sam uwu” when canon dean locked sam up and left him in the panic room alone in horrible conditions and said “at least he dies human”

he was literally a catholic father punishing his daughter for disobeying/being impure

[deancasforcutie]

The way Dean’s queer joy and revelation at others just being outside the stereotypical control images is also ours

Honorable mention: