ibrowjo

[ibrowjo]

Why doesn't the bigger winchester simply eat the smaller winchester? Is he stupid?

[ibrowjo]

He figures out how to download all of Taylor’s Versions to an old iPod he found years ago

dean canonically listens to taylor swift

[ibrowjo]

GAHHHH I love the truth curse trope but I’m EATING THIS ONE UPPPPP

Been Keeping It Down

Main Masterlist - Dean Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, friends with benefits to lovers, light fluff, light angst, lotta smut (fingering, p in v, cockwarming), humor, love confessions

Summary/Warnings: After Dean gets hit with a curse, he starts avoiding you. Sam won't tell you what's wrong, and you love him almost as much as you miss him.

Almost as much as he might love you.

Author's Note: Request from an anon! I love thinking a fic will be 5k and then. it's not.

Word Count: 8.3k

“Why’d you lock him in the car?”

“Uh,” Sam scratches the back of his neck, letting out a long, slow breath. “I didn’t. He sorta locked himself in there.”

Your nose wrinkles, and you lean a little further down, trying to get a better look at Dean.

He’s sprawled out on the back bench, knocked out and drooling onto the seat. 

He looks adorable.

His hair is mussed, his eyes keep fluttering slightly, and if you climbed over him he’d probably be just as strong and warm as when he yanks you into his chest, making sure you don’t stumble or trip during a hunt. 

You can’t crawl over him while he’s asleep. You’re not sure if he’d want you to, or if you’d just get shoved off his body with a grunt and glower. Ruining everything, and bombing the careful fantasy you’ve built where maybe Dean flirts with you a little more than other girls, and maybe he gets so pissed at you because he cares, and there’s a small, thin chance that he likes catching you just as much as you like falling into him.

And you’re never going to tell him you do it on purpose. That it’s dumb, and reckless, and pathetic, but sometimes you’ll be a little less cautious, just so Dean will grab you. So his arms will wrap around your stomach, he’ll glare at you with enough venom to make your skin hot, and you can smile up at him like nothing’s wrong. It couldn’t be, as long as Dean was holding you.

But something is certainly wrong right now.

“And he let you drive?”

Sam shrugs awkwardly. “He’s sick.

You give him a flat look. “I’ve seen Dean drive when he was actively bleeding out.”

“From his stomach.”

“So?”

“It’s- He could still drive.” Sam’s voice is lame, as if he doesn’t even believe what he’s saying. “This was a fever. He’s not lucid.”

“Sam.” There’s panic rising in your chest, hot and tight and suffocating, but you force your voice to remain flat. “If he’s not lucid, we need to take him to a hospital-“

“No! I-“ Sam’s eyes widen, darting between you and Dean at a frantic pace. “It’s- He’s fine! It’s a magic fever.”

“A magic fever-“

“Witches. He hates them.”

“I know that-“

“He just needs to sleep it off,” Sam’s voice is suddenly firm and determined, and something is very wrong. “It’ll be easier if we don’t bother him.”

“But-“

“Can you got get some ice from town?”

You frown. “We have ice.”

“Right.” Sam glances back to Dean. “What don’t we have?”

“I don’t know, I don’t do audits while you guys are gone-“

“Do we have soda?”

“I don’t know-“

“Pie?”

You let out a long, slow breath, and Sam is very close to being punched in the face. “We have pie. We always have pie. Sam, what’s going on-“

“I just- I need to get Dean out of the car. And I-“ Sam swallows, giving you an apologetic look. “I’m not supposed to let you help.”

Your mouth falls open, something tearing up your chest that’s made of Dean doesn’t want your help, he knows how useless you really are and he can’t even imagine you carrying him to bed.

Sam must see the shatter of your heart, just a layer under your face, because he shakes his head, and his words are quick.

“No it’s- it’s not like that-“

“I’m fine.” You mumble, drawing yourself to stand tall, keeping your gaze firmly fixed away from Dean. “You don’t have to-“

“He might be contagious.”

You give him a dry look. “You’re still going to touch him, though.”

“I was in the car with him.” Sam mutters, not fully meeting your gaze. “I’m already exposed. And there are some, uh- Weird side effects. To the curse.”

“Weird? Weird like-“ You cut yourself off at Sam’s apologetic expression, letting out another heavy sigh. “You can’t tell me.”

“He just- You know Dean. It’s a weird curse, and doesn’t want you to have to deal with it-“

“I wouldn’t mind.” You mumble, frowning down at your hands, and you can feel Sam’s look of pity.

“I told him that, he… Didn’t seem to care.”

You glance up, and your voice has to remain neutral. You’re almost certain Sam knows—he must, he’s seen you trail after Dean like a shadow on every case, laugh at all his stupid jokes, run to him whenever he so much as stubs his toe, and glare at him every time he gets hit on and basks in it because you love him too much to hate him for it, and that makes your skin blister—but that doesn’t mean you have to admit it.

It doesn’t matter if you admit it. 

Even if Dean flirts with you, it’s still just flirting. He flirts with everyone. And he’s never really shown that he’d want anything more with you. Maybe just skin on skin in the dark, but not his lips on your brow in the morning, and you head resting on his chest in the dead of night. 

Not what you’d need. What you’ve needed, from the moment he appeared over you on the street, both of you drenched in the blood of a decapitated vamp, Dean offering you a hand that once you took, you never wanted to release. 

But Sam knows that too. He was there when Dean asked you to stick with them, and you had an expression like the Sun had dropped at your feet and asked you to orbit around it forever. Sam’s noticed that you never even try to sleep around, and that whenever someone hits on you at a bar you never take it past smiles and words. 

You think Sam believes you have more dignity than you actually do, though. That if Dean offered you just one night, you wouldn’t take it in a heartbeat. That you’d keep coming back like an addict, until Dean decided he was done giving you what you crave. Sam thinks you wouldn’t break yourself for Dean. 

It’s sweet, that he thinks that highly of you.

That doesn’t make him right.

“Can you-“ You pause, trying to find the right thing to say, that will just give you a chance to help. “If there’s anything-“

“I’m gonna talk to him. He’s being- You know.”

Sam glances back to Dean, and you do know. Dean’s never been good at asking for help. 

He’s still fully knocked out and snoring so loud you can hear it through the windows. 

Still adorable.

And when he’s finally up, and feeling better, you’re going to shove his stupid, broad chest and yell at him that no magical side-effect could ever make you not want to help.

For now, you’re going to take one of the spare cars and drive in circles, until the ache in your chest hurts just a little less. And when Dean calls for you, you’ll be there.

You’ll always be there.

But he doesn’t call for you.

The day passes and turns into night, and the night turns into another day, and then suddenly it’s all blurring together and it’s been a week. And you haven’t spoken to Dean once.

You only know he’s in the bunker because you can see the light from under his door, and food is vanishing that Sam would never touch. When you wake up there’s enough coffee left over for you to have a cup, just like every morning, but usually Dean is leaning against the counter and waiting for you to join him. Now it’s just the mug out and the pot half-full. Same as how books keep going missing from the library before reappearing the next day, but Dean never once even wanders into the room. The Impala is gone for hours, and then you’ll check the garage again and it’s back. Dinner gets made, but you never see it. Dean doesn’t appear over your shoulder in the library and call you to dinner, you just wander into the kitchen and find it made.

“He’s avoiding me.”

Sam shakes his head, not looking up from his laptop. “No, he’s not.”

“I haven’t seen him once-“

“He’s still sick.”

“Sam-“

Sam says your name back, and when he looks up, there’s a heavy exhaustion in his gaze. “I’m working on it. He’ll be fine, the fever broke, but Dean- I can’t tell you.”

“Why.” Your voice is desperate, but the ache in your chest has only grown. You miss him. Even ignoring the in love with him thing, Dean’s your best friend. You miss talking to him while he cooks, and bothering him with the books you’ve read, and trying to see who can fit the most marshmallows in their mouth. 

But he’s avoiding you. Even if Sam won’t say it, you know he is. You’ve tried to catch him. You get up an hour earlier, but he’s already gone. You try and stay up for a whole day just to see him—to make sure he’s okay, and that he didn’t die and Sam just hasn’t figured out how to tell you—but you pass out around 4am and wake up with a blanket over your body, and another three books gone. The next time the Impala is gone you sit in the garage all day, leave once to go to the bathroom, and come back to it returned and Dean nowhere in sight.

You don’t understand why.

“I-“ Sam exhales, shaking his head again. “I wish I could tell you. But that- You know I trust you. Dean trusts you. But explaining it- I’d be violating Dean’s trust. I’m sorry.”

He looks it. Sam’s expression is tired, and you can hear the strain in his voice, but it doesn’t make anything hurt less. 

Dean’s avoiding you.

And you just want to see him. To know what’s wrong, so you can tell him you don’t care about the curse.

That evening, you try to camp the kitchen. Dinner never comes out that night, and around eight, Sam wanders in and asks if you can just order.

“No.” You mutter, sitting cross-legged on the counter, and Sam sighs.

“I’m hungry,” he says your name with a pleading tone. “I know you’re hungry too. And I’m going to order for myself, so just text me if you want anything and I’ll pick it up while I’m out-“

“I don’t want anything.”

Sam gives you a sympathetic look, and you want to curl into yourself and hide. It can’t be that obvious. Even if Sam knows, there’s no way he knows-

“If you’re waiting for him, he’s not going to come out.”

You scowl, shooting Sam a glare. “So he is avoiding me.”

Sam sighs your name. “I- Yeah. He is.”

“Why-“

“I can’t-“

“Tell me.” You finish for him, rubbing at your face as you continue, until it’s raw enough to hurt a little. “Yeah, I got it. Is he-“ You have to swallow on a lump in your throat. “Is he okay?”

“He will be.” Sam mutters. “I- I think I’ve almost got it.”

“Can I help?”

Sam shakes his head, and you swallow, leaning down until your back is flat on the table.

“Okay.”

“Do you, uh- Want anything?”

You want to help. To understand. 

Dean.

You want Dean.

“No.”

There’s a silence for a second, and you’re convinced Sam is gone, right up until he mutters your name. His voice is impossibly soft.

It just makes this hurt more. 

“He’s in his room. And he knows you’re in here. He’s not going to come out.” Sam sighs. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

You frown at the ceiling, trying to work out what that means, but by the time you sit up Sam is gone. 

Dean’s in his room. And he’s not going to come out. And it does not take a few hours to pick up dinner, but Sam will be gone anyway, and- 

Oh. 

Okay.

You slide off the counter, keeping your steps soft as you walk down the hall, and stop in front of Dean’s room.

“Dean?” You knock, and he’s not a subtle as he thinks he is. 

The noise from the TV turns off. 

“Dean,” You knock again, still to no answer. “I know you’re in there.”

Nothing. 

“Dean Winchester, if you don’t open the door, I’m going to break it in-“

“Don’t.”

His voice is barely a grunt. But it’s the first time you heard it in a fucking week, and a sob rises to your throat. 

He’s alive. He can talk, and he’s been avoiding you, but he’s okay. 

“Fuck, Dean, are you-“

“Don’t come in here.” His voice is rising slightly, and something starts to prickle over your skin. 

It’s the same feeling you get on a hunt, when something is just a little off. 

A warning.

“Dean-“

“Please.” There’s a desperation in his voice, and it just makes the prickle grow into a stinging itch. “Don’t.”

“Don’t-“ You swallow. “Don’t what?”

You can hear his deep breath through the door. “Come inside.”

“De-“

“Just- If you need something, go ask Sammy-“

“I don’t need anything, Dean.” I just need you. “I want to talk.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then, “We’re talking right now.”

“This doesn’t count, I want to see you-“

“No.”

“Dean-“

“I’m not dying,” Dean snaps your name. “You don’t need to help.”

There’s a harsh tone to his voice that you’ve rarely heard in your direction. The tone he uses on hunts and when he and Sam are fighting. His pissed tone.

He’s serious.

But it’s only making the itch feel like a burn. You need to see him. Just for one second, so you know he’s not lying, and he has to look you in the eyes and admit that he’s been avoiding you. He doesn’t get to be pissed when he’s been dodging you. That’s not how this fucking works.

You want to help, still.

But Dean does not get to be angry about that.

“I’m going to open the door.”

Dean hisses your name. “I’m tellin’ you, don’t-“

“I won’t if you give me a reason-“

“I don’t want you to see me.”

You freeze, your hand hovering up to push open the door, and your heart might have frozen and dropped into your stomach. 

He didn’t want you. Doesn’t want you. Not just your help, but to see you at all. He doesn’t want you, and your heart is fracturing in strange places you didn’t know it could break—but you should have, only Dean has ever been able to touch them—and Dean doesn’t want you-

“Fuck, are you- Son of a bitch-“ 

There’s a shuffling and banging sound from the other side of the door, and the world is blurry. It might have something to do with the soreness in your throat and the choked sound you couldn’t stop from escaping. 

“Don’t cry, sweetheart-“

“I’m not.” You take a step back from the door, your hand falling back to your side. “I- Sam’s out, if you need something, call him.”

“I know, it’s-“ He sounds closer than before. “It’s complicated, but I’m not pissed at you-“

“So why are you avoiding me.”

The silence is tight. Long. You can hear Dean’s heavy breathing through the door, and your fingers are straining to touch him, to make it better, but he doesn’t want you.

“I’m not crying, Dean.” Your voice has to be neutral. He already has your heart resting somewhere stronger than just the palm of his hand, he doesn’t get to have every other piece of you too. Not when he’d only toss it right back. “I know you got cursed, and I know you don’t want my help, but you don’t need to be- I would help. I’d always help. You’re my friend-“

There’s a dry, slightly muffled chuckle through the door. “Friend, huh.”

“Yeah, I am.” You raise your chin—he can’t see it, but it makes you feel better—and narrow your eyes at the door. “And I know you’re avoiding me, so don't try to deny it-“

“Can’t.”

You blink. “What?”

“Can’t deny it.” He grunts. “I’ve been avoiding you.”

“I- Oh.” The world is getting blurry again. He doesn’t get to have the rest of you. “Why?”

Dean groans, and you flinch as a heavy thud sounds from his room. “Fuck.”

“Dean-“

“Don’t ask me that.” He grunts, his voice right on the other side of the door. “Please.”

“I- Why?”

“Goddamnit, just stop asking me questions-“

“Dean, I need to know-“

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do-“

“Trust me,” he mutters your name. “You don’t.”

You scowl at the door. 

He doesn’t get to do this. No matter what type of righteous shit he’s got in his head, no matter what this curse is, Dean doesn’t get to just say he’s avoiding you, then not say why. Doesn’t get to tell you what to do when he won’t look at you. 

Doesn’t get to have all of you if he doesn’t really want it.

“Dean Winchester.” You move your hand back to the door, and you could swear you hear him stiffen. “You do not get to tell me what I need.”

He chuckles again, and you can hear it this time. The pain in the sound. “Then you’re just gonna have to trust me on this one-“

“I can’t trust you.” You cut him off with a snap. “Not when you won’t answer my questions. You can even lie, you just have to be convincing-“

“I- Fuck- I can’t!”

Dean’s voice has risen to a shout, and you pause. He sounds wounded. Like a distressed animal.

“I can’t goddamn lie.” He grunts, his voice lowered to something heavy. “The witch truth-roofied me, and I can’t say a lie.”

You frown. “Then why the fuck have you been avoiding me?”

“I- Shit,” he groans again. “There are some questions I don’t want you asking me. Safer for all of us.”

“Safer for you to ignore me-“

“I haven’t been ignoring you.”

“We haven’t spoken since you got back-“

“Cause I’ve been avoiding you-

“Which is better?” 

He pauses, his voice falling to a mumble. “No.”

You let out a soft, insane sounding laugh. You’re going to strangle him, or hug him, or shove him off a cliff before diving after him. He’s not stupid, but he can be such a fucking idiot.

“What were you planning on doing, when the curse was broken?” You lean against the door, keeping your voice dry. “Just popping up and acting like nothing ever happened?”

“Uh-“ Dean coughs. “Yeah? Are you pissed at me?”

“Yes.”

“Oh-“

“But.” You hum, watching the door as if you might be able to see Dean through it. “I’ll be less pissed if you tell me why.”

You can feel his glare. “I told you why, truth curse-“

“That’s a stupid reason. I know everything about you.”

There’s the chuckle again. “No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I do-“

“I told you to trust me-“

“And I told you I can’t.” You take a slow, stuttering breath. “Please, Dean, we’ll be fine if you just tell me the truth-“

“No.”

“Dean-“

“You don’t want to know the truth-“

“I don’t even know that you’re actually cursed with that!” Your voice is rising, but he’s such an idiot, and you love him, and most of what you can feel is hot. Worry or anger or stress or just want. You want to see him, to help him, to punch him in the face and trust him. But you can’t. “For all I know, you’re lying to me right now-“

Your words are cut off with a yelp as the door swings open, and you stumble a step forward, right into-

Dean.

He’s catching you. Keeping your upright by pressing you right to his chest, his hands framing your face and his eyes boring right into yours. 

And he looks tired—bags under his eyes and his hair a little messy from lack of care—but he’s still Dean. Still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, strong and hot around you, a growl in his voice that you can feel vibrate through his chest as he speaks. 

“Ask me something.” 

You blink at him. “You said-“

“Not that. Anything else.”

“I-“ You swallow, unable to break his gaze. “Can you tell me something embarrassing?”

His jaw twitches, but you get a firm nod. “I used to hide hentai mags in Sam’s bag, so chicks wouldn’t see them and think they were mine. One time I ate a pie off a girl’s stomach, and I enjoyed the pie more than the sex. I tried one of Sam’s running smoothies and it wasn’t dogshit, but then I spent twenty hours of the toilet after. Body wasn’t ready for it, I guess. Uh- One time I got turned on by holding a book-“

“A book?” You frown at him. “What book?”

“Uh, Wicked.”

“Oh. I love that book.”

“I know.” He mutters, scanning over you carefully. “Do I look like I’m lying?” 

“No,” you whisper, your hands shoot up to hold Dean’s against your face. “I- No.”

“Good. You trust me?”

“I- Dean, I still need you to tell me why.”

Dean’s jaw tightens, his nostrils flaring slightly. 

You might be about to melt. You’ve never been this close to him, he’s never looked at you like this—as if he wouldn’t mind only looking at you for the rest of your life, or maybe he’d just like to eat you alive—and there’s a firmness to his voice that’s lighting a fire in your core. 

“I told you not to ask me that.” He mutters, and you shake your head.

“I need to know, Dean, please.” You pull your lips between your teeth. “You didn’t even talk to me, and you told Sam not to tell me, and it really- It wasn’t-“ You swallow, your voice turning to almost a whine, and you can’t stop it. “That wasn’t fair,  I thought you were mad at me and I just- I wanted to help-“

“I know you did, baby.” Dean sighs, and your lips part slightly. 

Baby.

“I’d never be mad at you,” he runs his thumb over your cheekbone, and it’s becoming really hard to not give him all of you. “I- You’re just- I-“

He’s moving before you know what’s happening. Diving down and pulling you up at the same time, crashing his mouth against yours with almost a bloody desperation, and you did melt. You’re all heat as your fingers curl against his chest, and his lips mold perfectly against yours, and he’s kissing you like you’re going to disintegrate and he’s going to die and he’s kissing you-

It’s over as soon as it starts. Your head is spinning, and your lips are already swollen from the bruising force of his kiss, but Dean’s drawing back with an almost frantic expression, stumbling back and leaving your swaying into the middle of the room. 

“I- Son of a bitch- I’m sorry-“

You blink at him, still a little dazed. “You’re sorry?”

Dean nods, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. “Shit- I shouldn’t have done that, sweetheart, I-“

“Why?” Your voice is soft, and he frowns at you. 

“You- I didn’t-“

“Dean.” You force yourself to stand tall, wrapping your arms around your stomach. He can’t do this. Just kiss you like that then say it shouldn’t have happened. He fucking kissed you. “Please just tell me why. I- You can’t just ignore me then do that and not say- You have to tell me why-“ You won’t cry. “Please-“

“I love you.”

Time might not be moving. Dean’s just staring at you from across the room, and you can’t really feel your legs, and- 

“What?” You whisper, and he shakes his head.

“I- I fucking love you.” He mutters, his gaze falling down to the floor. “And I know you deserve better, I do- But I always wanna tell you, and I would’ve, so I had to- I wasn’t tryin’ to piss you off, and I- Goddamnit, I never wanna make you cry, but you shouldn’t have to worry about turning me down-“

It’s your turn to move. You cross the room before Dean can keep saying stupid things, grab the collar of his shirt, and yank him back down into a kiss.

It’s even better than the first one. Dean falls into you in half a second, his arms flying out to hold you right to his chest, almost lifting you off the ground as he pushes his tongue between your lips, then groaning down your throat when you nip at it and wrap an arm around his neck. He tastes so good, and he fits better against you than you thought possible, and his hands are roaming all over you like he’s trying to check you’re real. 

You’ve never felt more real. There’s a wildfire spreading through your body, building as broad fingers brush against the bare skin of your back, and Dean’s mouth is starting to wander, sucking your upper lip between his teeth before starting to kiss down your neck, and his hand squeezes against your ass-

You move back, shoving his chest with all the strength you have, and he stumbles away, blinking at you with a wide, lust-blown expression.

“Never,” you poke his chest, glaring up at his dumbstruck, handsome face. “Do that again. I have loved you since I met you, Dean, you fucking idiot, and if you ever pull something like that again, I will shoot you with the gun you gave me.”

Dean blinks at you, and his face splits into a wide grin. “You love me?”

“Of course I love you-“

“Awesome.” He takes a step forward, and you stop him with a palm on his chest.

“Not awesome, Dean, I’m still mad at you-“

Your words turn into an unconvincing sigh as Dean grabs your wrist and tugs you forward, pulling you back into a longer, deeper kiss. 

It’s slow and soft, like you have all the time in the universe, and you feel as if you’re floating. Like everything is only light and warmth and the taste of Dean, lingering on your tongue when he hums against your lips, and pulls back with another wide, boyish grin.

“Here’s the deal, babygirl.” He tangles a hand in your hair, tipping your head back until your gaze is locked onto his. “You can kick my ass later, but right now I’d really like to give you a reason to stop being pissed at me. You want that?”

You pause, your fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “I still get to be mad later?���

Dean nods, leaning down to suck on the soft skin of your neck, and you can’t stop the moan that escapes your mouth. 

“Dean-“

“Lemme show you how much I mean it,” he hums against your skin. “Can’t lie right now, sweetheart, and you’re the prettiest things I’ve ever goddamn seen. Fuckin’ hated avoiding you, missed you so much-“

“I- Missed you too-“

“I know you did, c’mon, lemme take care of you-“

“Okay.”

He pulls back, watching you carefully. “You sure?” 

You nod eagerly, and his face splits back into a grin.

“Ready?”

“Yeah,” your voice is breathy, and Dean’s grin widens. 

But he doesn’t get to get off that easy. 

“What do you want to do to me, Winchester?” You give him a teasing smirk, and his hands tense on your waist. “If you’ve been thinking about it that much…”

You raise your brows in a silent suggestion, and Dean groans.

“That’s not playing fair,” he leans back down, and you dodge, moving to kiss along his jawline. 

“Tell me what you want-“

“You’re starting something, sweetheart,” his words sound pushed through his teeth, and you giggle. 

“And you’re dodging the question- Dean-“

You squeak as his hand tangles in your hair, and he yanks you back to meet his gaze. 

He looks almost feral. Darkened eyes and full, swollen lips that are already parted with heavy breath. You’re pressed right against him, and his hand still on your waist is kneading your skin until you’re almost melted in the sheer heat and want, and-

He’s pressed right against your thigh. Hard. Big.

The ache between your legs is unbearable. You might come apart from nothing at all.

Or just from the sound of Dean’s voice, deep and rough and filled with hunger.

“I’ve wanted you since I saw you, baby,” he mutters, and when your hands shoot up to wrap around his neck and tug at his hair, a soft moan escapes his lips. “Son of a bitch, I want you all the fuckin’ time-“

“How?” You whisper, and his eyes flash.

“You really wanna know, sweet girl?” Dean starts to walk you backwards, towards his bed, and lets out a hiss when you yank on his hair again. 

“I’m asking-“

“I’ve thought about everything,” his voice is almost a growl, and you squeak as he tosses you back onto the mattress. “Thought about eating you out until you screamed, or just touching you to see what kinda sounds you’d make,” Dean pulls his shirt of as you gape up at him, before crawls over you with a wide grin. “Had dreams about those freakin’ sounds, how you’d moan for me if I did this-“

One big hand slides under your shirt, palming at your breasts before rolling a nipple between two fingers, and you fall fully back with a gasp. 

“Dean-“ You grab at his shoulders, squirming below him, and his grin grows, his hand wandering over to the other breast to repeat the movement. “Oh, god.”

“Nope.” Dean leans down, kissing you slow and deep, his hand starting to wander down your stomach, until he’s cupping you over your shorts. “Just me, sweetheart.”

You moan, shaking your head. “That’s so bad, De- Fuck-“

He smirks as his fingers slide under your shorts, and it falters for only a second as they find your bare pussy. 

“You’re not wearing any underwear.” He grunts, and you flush, turning your face into the pillow.

“Laundry day,” you mumble, and Dean chuckles.

“Sure, baby-“

“It is,” you twist to glare at him, and his grin just grows.

“I believe you,” he leans down, brushing his mouth right over yours, and you squeak as one finger trails between your pussy lips. “But I also believe you’re always this wet for me. And sometimes,” his thumb presses right over your clit. “You’d go bare and hope I’d just pin you down and fuck you.”

You moan shamelessly, your eyes wide and trapped on Dean’s and his voice drops lower than you’ve ever heard it. 

“I think you’ve touched yourself thinking of me, just like I touch myself thinking about you.”

There’s no chance to respond before his finger pushes inside of you, his thumb starting to rub slow circles around your pussy, and you’re flying. The only tether between the earth and pleasure, white-hot and perfect and teasing, is Dean’s voice, right in your ear. 

“Dream about your pretty mouth on my cock, babygirl. Or your hands, or being buried in the sweet pussy until you’re a perfect mess for me.” He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, and your nails dig into his back. “Kinda like this, actually.”

“De- Shit,” a second finger pushes in with the first, and he’s still moving them so slow. “Feels good, so good-“

“Yeah, it does,” Dean groans, and your eyes flutter open to see him rutting against the mattress, his own face almost a mirror of your own desperation as he watches his fingers pump in and out of your cunt. “Jesus, you’re so pretty-“

“Dean.” You grab his face between your hands, and his eyes snap onto yours. “More.”

He blinks at you for a second, but then gives you a tight nod. 

His fingers crook inside of you, rubbing against that hot, spongey spot inside of you, and your mouth falls open in a silent scream. His thumb is gone from your clit, only giving it quick, frenzied flicks as you’re dragged right up to the edge, and he won’t look away from you-

Then he’s gone. You’re dangling right on the edge of release, but Dean yanks his fingers away with a taunting grin, and a high, pathetic sound escapes your throat. 

You start to grumble an incoherent protest, but it dies in your throat at the sight above you. 

He’s pushing your legs up to help you out of your shorts and—completely ruined—underwear. He kisses against your calf before tossing everything into a corner of the room, and shoves your knees back apart. Then the two fingers push back into your for only a second, long enough to pull another moan from your throat, and Dean settles back between your legs with a grin.

Then he’s gone again. And one hand grabs your chin to keep your eyes trapped on his as he brings his fingers up to his mouth. 

Dean cleans his fingers of your arousal, his gaze never leaving yours, and a sound that’s awfully like a moan rumbling through his chest.

“Taste better than I dreamed,” he mutters, and you shudder with pleasure as he goes back, dragging those same fingers back over your soaked core, dipping slightly into your cunt like he’s trying to gather as much as he can. “Shit, I would’ve let a witch get the jump on me years ago if I knew I’d finally get to have this.”

You blink at him, your voice so soft and needy you almost don’t recognize it. “Years?”

“Uh, yeah.” Dean nods, a slight blush seeming to creep over his cheeks, even as his thumb starts to drag slow circles around your clit. “Told you, sweetheart, you’ve been in since I saw you.”

“I- Why didn’t you-“

He shrugs. “Didn’t think you’d want it. Taste.”

You frown at him, opening your mouth to protest—your mind doesn’t seem to be able to wrap itself around not wanting Dean—but the sound falls into a moan as his fingers press on your lower lip. They’re soaked in your wetness, and asking for further permission, and under Dean’s almost adoring gaze, you don’t know how to do anything but grant it.

Dean groans as he pushes his fingers almost all the way down your throat, and you feel his still-clothed cock twitch against you when you start to suck.

“Jesus,” he mutters, pulling back with another one of those moans. “You’re so freakin’ perfect-“

“Dean,” you whine, scratching at his chest and bucking your hips up to try and grind over his bulge, but he just grunts, dropping his full weight down to pin you against the mattress.

“Not yet, sweetheart.”

You shake your head, wiggling below him, and his eyes flutter shut.

“God-“ He moans your name as you manage to get your legs free, wrapping them around his waist and rolling your hips against his still hidden cock. “Shit- Alright.”

Dean grabs you by your waist, and you yelp as he rolls you over without warning. Suddenly you’re straddling his bare chest as he pulls off his sweats, his gaze locked on yours the whole time. Then your shirt is being all but ripped off your body, and before you know what’s happening, Dean’s got one hand on your ass and the other back on your jaw, hold your eyes down to his.

He mutters your name, and your fingers curl against his bare chest. “I’ve got a condom in the side drawer-“

“I’m clean.” Your words are too quick, and his eyes flash. “And I- I’m on birth control. If- If you’re- If you too-“

He laughs, his thumb tracing over your lower lip, and the sound rolls through his chest, vibrating against your pussy and making your mouth fall open. 

“Don’t hurt yourself, baby.” Dean’s hands drift to grab you by the waist, and he shifts below you, making sure he’s more leaning against the headboard than flat on his back. “Hold on.”

His grip tightens, and a stupid, high sound leaves you as he picks you up and pushes you down onto his cock.

He’s big. And thick. And you’re being filled up so good, already cockdrunk and a little out of your mind at the feel of him splitting your open and pressing on all the right spots, but he’s not moving. Dean’s just watching you with a wide, adoring gaze, grunting whenever you try to grind against him and hissing when you clench around him.

“I said,” he lands a light slap on your ass, his eyes narrowing on yours. “Not yet. Wanna feel you, baby. We’re gonna stay just like this until you’re begging for it.”

You gape at him, every word coming up as only a gasp or whimper as you try to move again, and he hits your ass again, and Dean raises his brows.

“Good?”

You nod, leaning down to press your brow to his. “Just doesn’t seem fair.”

He frowns. “Fair- If you don’t-“

“I like this.” You mumble, ghosting a kiss over his lips. “A lot. Love it.”

Dean grunts, dragging you down into a full, deep kiss that makes it almost impossible not to squirm against him. 

“What’s not fair, then?” He hums against your lips, and now that he knows you’re good, he seems to be all back on teasing. “C’mon, baby, you can tell me-“

You shove his chest, and he laughs. He can’t keep doing that. It’s like a small vibrator against your clit, and he’s so handsome, and you don’t know how to not clench around him. But all that gets you is another slap of your ass, and you might be starting to drip down your thighs and onto Dean’s.

“Asshole-“

He grabs your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. “You love it.”

You do. “Never should’ve told you that,” you grumble, and he laughs again, and you might be on the brink of insanity.

“Too late. I know it now. Never gonna let you or this pretty pussy go neglected again, babygirl, so watch out.”

He pokes your side, grinning as you let out a squeaking giggle, but it quickly falls into a moan as his free hand moves up to play with your tits. 

“Dean-“

“I know,” he hums, flicking your nipple before leaning up to press a kiss over the hurt. “But you’re doing so well for me, sweetheart. Being such a good girl.”

You moan against, and Dean smirks.

“You like that, don’t you. Like being my good girl-“

“Dean.” You hiss, trying to grind against him, and whimpering at the next slap on your ass. “Fuck, please-“

“That’s closer.” He hums, resuming his movements on your tits. “But you still have to tell me what’s not fair.”

“It’s-“ You take a shaking breath, trying to regather your thoughts. “It’s not important-“

“Anything you think is important.” He mutters, and you swallow at the intensity in his gaze. “Tell me, baby. Then I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Fuck. 

He can’t lie. 

And just from the expression on his face, you can almost feel how much he means it. 

“It’s just, I-“ You take a slow breath, watching him carefully. “What about you?”

Dean frowns. “What about me.”

“You had, um- a lot of ideas.” You trace your fingers over his tattoo, trying to focus on your words instead of Dean’s cock, hard and pressed into you and making you almost burn with desire. “And I- I just don’t want it to only be about me-“

You’re cut off as Dean laughs again, your words falling into a high, gasping moan, and almost in a reward, Dean slams himself up to meet the rolls of your hips. 

You still get a small spank for the movement. 

Worth it.

Dean drawls your name, looking up at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen. “You think having you sit on my cock under you’re begging me to fuck you is about you?”

You flush, shaking your head weakly, and he chuckles again. 

You moan, fluttering around him, but this time the slap on your ass comes with Dean pinching your nipple, and slamming up until he’s hitting your cervix.

“Trust me, baby,” he grunts, squeezing your ass and tugging you back down into a long, slow kiss. “This is all about me.”

“But-“

“We’re gonna do all of that shit later,” Dean pulls back, just enough to hold your gaze, and his arm wraps around your back, pinning you firmly down. “Trust me, babygirl, I mean it. I’m gonna give you everything.”

“Dean-“

“But right now, I want you to come on my cock, and I want you to say please.” Something strange flashes over his expression, and his voice drops impossibly lower. “Need to know you mean it, sweetheart.”

Oh. 

You’re not under a truth curse. And Dean is adorable and handsome and strong below you, but he’s still Dean.

And you can see it in his eyes.

He’s still not sure you do mean it. 

You have nothing to do but prove him wrong.

“Dean.” You whisper, forcing your hips not to roll as you lean down, holding his gaze. “Please. I want it. Want it so bad. I dream about you and touch myself thinking about you. I’d let you do whatever you want to me, cause I love you and I need you, Dean. I’m going to go insane if you don’t fuck me, please.”

“Son of a bitch.” Dean mutters, his grip growing bruising on your hips. “Feel so good, baby, just need you to give me one more-“

“Please-“

Your voice turns into a long, heavy moan as Dean rolls your hips along his cock, and the whole world lights up with good.

“Good girl,” he mutters, and you throw your head back as he helps you repeat the movement, every single nerve in your body glowing with Dean. “Fuck yourself on my cock, sweetheart. Take what you need.”

There might be something teasing to his voice, but you can’t really hear it. You can’t really think of anything past the feeling of him inside you, or the low sounds that you keep pulling out of his chest as you grind down. You’re riding Dean’s cock like your life depends on it, gasping his name whenever your clit rubs against his groin or his hips jerk, making him bump that sensitive spot deep inside of you.

And he’s a vision below you. Moaning your name and kneading at your ass, watching you move above him like he’s looking at all the stars in the sky. His lips are parted with heavy breathes, and one hand is drifting slowly up to the nape of your neck, squeezing slightly with his eyes wide on yours, and you tip your head back without a question.

Dean groans, his hand moving to grab your throat, and you move faster. He’s not holding you that tight, but there’s a possessiveness to his touch that’s like fire up your spine, and you want him to leave a mark. Want everyone to know that he’s yours, and he’s touching you, and-

“Fuck-“ Dean grunts your name, his grip squeezing slightly, and you move faster. “Shit- Sweetheart, you’re-“

His head throws back with a groan as you clench around him, chasing your release desperately, and you want him to come with you. You need him to. You need him to fill you up, to feel the burn of him in a week, to be so fucking ruined by him you can’t even walk-

“Dean,” you gasp, and his grip tightens even more. Stars are starting to dance behind your eyes. “So close, feels so good-“

“I know,” he grunts, and you gasp as his hips rut up. “Hold it, babygirl.”

You shake your head, grinding faster. “Can’t- Need you-“

You whimper as Dean squeezes your throat, and his eyes flash. “C’mon, sweet girl, be good for me-“

“I- Dean-“

He grunts, and you’re not sure when the shift happened, but you’re not in charge anymore. Dean’s arm is wrapped around your waist, pinning you against his chest as he surges up, his hand moving to your jaw to hold it still. The kiss is deep and bruising and all spit and teeth, and he’s fucking you. Drilling up into your aching cunt without relent, kissing all over your face and down your neck, over the small marks his hand left. Moving back to your mouth as you start to shudder around him, scraping at his shoulders in a plea for release and moaning down your throat. 

“Gonna cum,” he groans, his pace growing uneven. “Where-“

“In. Inside. Dean, just- Fuck-“

You almost scream as his thumb moves back to your clit, leaving a featherlight touch that’s somehow too much and not nearly enough. 

“Dean-“

“Cum on my cock, baby.” He growls, pressing his thumb down so hard it lights a firework in your whole body, and you don’t know how to do anything but listen.

Your orgasm hits your like a wildfire, sweeping through your whole body until your toes are curling and you’re slumped in Dean’s arms, and he meets you with one last, beautiful moan of your name and a slam of his hips home. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he fucks you through his release, making yours rise and crest once more, and when it’s done, everything feels sort of bright and dizzying. A high, cockdrunk giggle escapes your throat, and Dean groans.

“Shit-“ He mutters your name, and you realize you’d squeezed around him. “Goddamnit, that was-“

“Yeah.” You whisper, curling further into his chest. “Thanks.”

He chuckles, but it falls into another moan as you flutter around him once more. “Alright, that’s enough of that.”

Dean’s breathing is ragged in your ear, and you keep your arms wrapped tight around him as he pulls out. You don’t manage to stop your soft moan, feeling impossibly empty and raw from the absence of him, but it’s alright.

He’s still here. 

And now, he’s yours. 

Dean presses a soft kiss to your brow, his words soft in your ear. “You want me to clean you up, baby?”

You shake your head, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. “Don’t wanna move.”

“We made a mess-“

“Later.”

He chuckles, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

You smile, and grab him a little tighter. “Are you still truth cursed?”

“Course I am. Wasn’t a sex curse, this is just a benefit-“

“Shut up.” You tug on his hair, and all you get is a laugh in return.

You lean back, just enough to meet his eyes, and he can’t have looked at you like this before. Like you’re his whole world, and he’d never want to ever be anywhere else but you. 

You would’ve seen it. 

You hope you would’ve.

“Did you mean it?” You whisper, and he frowns. 

“Mean what?”

“That you’ve loved me since we met?”

Dean’s jaw twitches, and he lets out a slow sigh. “I’ve wanted you since we met. Didn’t love you until a few months after. But it didn’t take much.”

You raise your brows, and he rolls his eyes. 

“You’re really taking advantage of how that I’m cursed, you know-“

“It was first sight for me.” You whisper, and his mouth snaps shut. “You saved me, then helped me stand up, and I felt like an idiot because I was in love with the stranger who just decapitated someone in front of me.”

Dean’s throat bobs. “You still feel like an idiot?”

“Yeah.” It’s only fair you’re honest, if he has to be. “But only because I spent years pretending, I didn’t love you, and didn’t get to have this.”

You lean down, pressing a soft kiss to Dean’s lip, and he lets out a soft sound that almost has you ready for round two. 

“You punched me.” He mutters, and you lean back with a curious expression.

“Huh?”

“That’s when I fell in love with you.” He mutters, rubbing slow circles on the skin of your hips. “I was trying to teach you how to shoot, but you’d never held a gun so you were shit at it. And I already liked you, so I was, uh- Kinda being an asshole. Pushing you too hard. And I said somethin’ about you not being able to defend yourself, and you suckered me right in my fuckin’ jaw. Started shouting at me about how I was being a dick, but- Um-“ He’s blushing, giving you an almost sheepish expression. “Didn’t hear a word you said. Think I was making heart eyes or something. Remember thinking I’m either marrying you, or no one.”

You can’t stop your wide, almost idiotic smile, but it’s worth it. Dean mirrors it right back, and his eyes flutter as your run your hand carefully through his hair. 

“I love you.” You whisper. “And I can punch you again, if you want.”

He chuckles, shaking his head, and leaning up to pull you down into a long, slow kiss. And you can feel it, in this one. How he really has been as hungry for this as you have. How—just as you don’t think you ever want to move from his lap, even if the rapture floods the world and the sky starts to fall—he never plans to let you go.

“That can be one of our later things,” he mutters, tracing his tongue over your lower lip. “Right now I just wanna sit with my girl.”

You beam, nipping at his tongue. “Who you love?”

“Yeah.” He snorts, squeezing your ribs and grinning as you jump, almost falling over him with a whine. “Who I love.”

End Note: The Dean Winchester mind cannot comprehend that he is lovable (I am going to force that knowledge down his throat).

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[ibrowjo]

i love pictures of random local food chains or restaurants from clearly north amerika. dean literally ate there🙁

[ibrowjo]

‘Mr Right Now’

(Source)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings/tags: Implied Smut (18+), swearing, fluff, one night stand... kinda, mentions of cheating

A/N: Entirely based on this lil clip right here 👆🏻😂, however this will be from the reader’s POV in the beginning and perhaps a lil' insight into Dean’s funny walk 👀🤣

Main Masterlist

Valentine’s Day.

It’s supposed to be your favourite night to work. Singles Night always brings in a good crowd, fun music, and flirty banter that makes your shift fly by. But tonight?

Tonight, you want to crawl under the bar and disappear.

Six months ago, your ex — Travis — said you were “pressuring” him when you asked if he’d ever thought about marriage or kids. After three years together, you figured it wasn’t a crazy question. But the truth came out not long after: he’d been sleeping with your downstairs neighbour. Class act, right?

And today? You found out he just proposed to her.

Yeah. Happy freakin’ Valentine’s Day.

So yeah, you’re bitter. And tired. And trying not to punch the next person who asks for a “Love Me Long Time” shot with a wink.

You were mid-pour when you noticed him. Dean. That rugged, flirty regular who always nursed his whiskey like he had secrets too heavy to say out loud. It’d been a while since he last came in — his job took him all over, he’d once vaguely mentioned. Never said much more.

But tonight, he looked good. That usual cocky smirk in place, dark flannel and jeans and those green eyes doing their usual scan of the room before settling on me.

“Hey, stranger,” you say, once you finished up with your customer, managing a warm smile.

“Here to scope out the sea of desperation?” You teased. And Dean grinned, shaking his head.

You knew he played the field, usually always leaving with a woman on his arm. And a day like today must be like hitting the jackpot for him. You didn’t judge him for it though, these ladies knew what they were getting into.

“That obvious, huh?” he chuckles, his eyes already making their familiar appreciative sweep over you. He’d aimed and missed with you once before — back when you were still with ‘he-who-shall-not-be-named.’ But he respected the boundary, and you appreciated that. Now, though… you find yourself not minding if he looks.

“I mean, if you want to feed yourself to the piranhas, who am I to stop you.” You winked and then poured his usual - double whiskey, neat. 

“I’m surprised you’re working tonight,” he says, eyeing you over the rim of his glass. “Thought you’d be spending Valentine’s with… what’s his name again? Trevor? Tyrone?”

“Travis,” you correct, unable to keep the disgust from your voice. The name tastes like poison now.

Dean notices. Raises a brow. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Try dumping me after three years because I had the audacity to ask about our future,” you say with a tight smile. “Turns out, it wasn’t because I was pressuring him — it was because he was screwing the twenty-four-year-old downstairs.”

“No shit.” Dean blows out a breath, brows raised.

“Shit. And get this.” You lean in like you’re telling him the world’s dirtiest secret. “I found out today, of all damn days, the asshole proposed to her.”

You let out a bitter laugh. Dean just shakes his head.

“What a douchebag,” he mutters, voice rough with genuine annoyance on your behalf.

“Just feels like such a giant waste of time, you know.” you sigh, glancing out at the dance floor where the lonely and the bold are coupling off, laughing, swaying, kissing. All of them looking far less wrecked than you feel.

Then Rachel — your co-bartender and part-time devil on your shoulder — slides in beside you, muttering with a smirk, “Well, you know what they say… Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

She nods toward Dean before spinning off to help another customer. Subtle as ever.

“She’s not wrong,” Dean says, that glint in his eye turning mischievous.

You raise a brow, curious. “What, are you offering?”

“I wasn’t not offering,” he replies smoothly.

Your pulse skips.

The tension between you two has always been there — a low simmer under the surface. Banter. Glances. But you were off-limits. Now?

Now you’re single. And hurting. And Dean’s looking at you like he’s more than willing to be your rebound.

“I’m off in an hour,” you say, leaning across the bar just enough to let him see the smirk tugging at your lips. “Think you’ll survive?”

Dean’s grin is slow, sinful. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ve been waiting for the last year. What’s sixty more minutes?”

An hour later, Dean’s on your couch, thick thighs spread, watching you strip off your jacket with hooded eyes.

You straddle his lap, fingers sliding through his hair as you kiss him. It’s rough, desperate, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. His hands grip your waist, pull you flush against him, and you moan into his mouth.

“My ex,” you whisper against his lips, “used to call me a sex freak.”

Dean tilts his head, grinning. “Yeah? Sounds like the douchebag couldn’t keep up.”

You roll your hips against him, feeling him hard beneath you. “Said I was too much.”

“Sweetheart,” he growls, voice low and thick, “I like too much.”

Your clothes hit the floor in a trail of chaos. You barely make it to the bedroom before he’s pushing you against the wall, kissing you like a man starved. Somewhere between the laughter and the gasps, you tie his wrists to the headboard with your scarf.

His eyes go wide. “Oh, you are wild.”

You just smile. “Still game?”

Dean huffs a laugh, already breathless. “Hell yes.”

And he is. Game for all of it. For your hands, your mouth, the way you ride him like you’ve got something to prove — maybe to yourself, maybe to him. He lets you take control, lets you wreck him, and when he finally comes undone beneath you, sweaty and flushed and utterly ruined, he lets out a hoarse, “Fuck... I’m gonna feel that for a week.”

You collapse next to him, laughing into the curve of his shoulder.

“Want me to kiss it better?”

He turns his head, kisses you slow and sweet. “I think now it’s my turn, sweetheart.” 

And before you can reply, he’s rolling you beneath him, dragging you into round two with a look that says he’s nowhere near done.

When you wake the next morning, deliciously sore in all the best ways, you turn to find Dean still there, tangled in your sheets, a lazy arm draped over your waist. You smile and appreciate his beauty for a minute and wonder why you hadn’t just fucked Travis off sooner and took up Dean’s offer, because holy shit that was probably the best sex you’d ever had. 

Dean seems to notice your staring and hums as he pulls you closer, planting a kiss on your bare shoulder, then your neck, all the way up until he’s claiming your lips once more. 

You sigh happily into it and as he shifts closer and he groans. “Damn, sweetheart. You really did a number on me.” He chuckles and drops his head to your shoulder.

You giggle beneath him, but bite your lip a little insecure. “Too much?”

He seems to notice your apprehension and lifts his head, his grin is lopsided as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Never too much. I’ll take the limp proudly.”

The two of you burst out into laughter and then spend another 20 minutes sharing a few more lazy kisses before he finally vacates your apartment, leaving you with one last long, lingering kiss at the door and a promise of a repeat.

Back at the bunker, Dean limps into the kitchen like he’s been hit by a truck, wincing with every step. He makes a beeline for the fridge, yanks it open, and grabs a questionable takeout container like a man on the edge.

Sam glances up from his laptop, frowns. “Is that a hickey?”

Dean pops the lid, scoops a bite of rice into his mouth and immediately spits it out, not caring if half of it ends up on the floor. He was too hungover for this.

He sets down the container and shuffles toward the coffee pot like it’s holy salvation. Thank God Sam’s an early riser.

“And?” Dean grunts. “It was Valentine’s Day. Can’t help it if I’m a hopeless romantic.”

“You got half of that right,” Sam mutters, not looking up.

Dean smirks. “Just doing my civic duty. Helping a recently single lady rediscover her joy.”

“So… you were the rebound?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “You know the best thing about February fourteenth? You don’t have to be Mr. Right. Just Mr. Right Now, and if that means in the rebounding sense? Who cares? I still got laid.”

Sam scoffs. “Classy.”

Dean huffs, tired of the third degree. “Yeah? What did you do, judgy? Curl up in a snuggy, watch fifty shades on cable?” 

“Yeah. No.” Sam huffs humourlessly.

Meanwhile, Dean sips his coffee, eyes unfocused as his mind wanders back to the scratch of your nails down his back, the gasp you made when he kissed that spot behind your knee, the way your voice broke when you said his name.

Yeah. He thinks.

Best. Night. Ever.

AN: I hope you guys enjoyed this one, it was a fun little experiment and just what my brain conjured up watching this clip lol 😂 I don't know about you guys, but Dean could happily be my rebound 😍

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[ibrowjo]

dean: *trapped in solitary* i’m not afraid to be alone with my thoughts! my thoughts are awesome!

dean: pizza, boobs, cars

dean: my dad never loved me, i’m gonna die alone

dean: oh boy that escalated quickly

[ibrowjo]

sam and dean. if you care

[ibrowjo]

My Endless Favorite SPN Stills   ↳ 3x08 A Very Supernatural Christmas

[ibrowjo]

Everyone 🗣️

Literally get your shit together and read this series if you haven’t yetttttt

I will be thinking about this chapter for the next 12 business days thank you very much.

🚨Spoilers for part 1 and 2 below 🚨

Why did I think when y/n was getting the vision that she was actually getting sick because she was unexpectedly pregnant?!? I fully forgot she was a psychic for a split second and my brain said “🤰🏻” and I PANICKED because we’re mere CHAPTERS away from the finale. My heart was pounding and then I was like “oh, okay, never mind, false alarm, psychic business as per usual, good day sir.” The closer we get to the end of Dean’s deal, the more my brain flips out about every single little thing. I KNOW you’ve got crazy shit up your sleeve and I am biting my nails down to bits in anticipation.

You are SO GOOD with those damn flashbacks. Idk how to explain it dude. It’s just amazing how cohesive y/n’s character is from childhood to adulthood. It isn’t just the references to the locket or the cheerleading or Dean calling her violent or anything else like that. Let me try my best to describe what I mean 😅. I’ve done plenty of storyboarding for so many original characters where I write them as children and adults, and it’s really hard to keep the character who they are at their core while still maintaining the age they’re at. Children and adults behave very differently, so how do you take a character and write them at both ages while still making them their distinct self? It’s a question I’ve toyed with for YEARS. Idk how you do it man, but baby y/n is still y/n in every flashback, and that’s pretty damn cool.

I CANNOT with Dean READING HARRY POTTER while y/n walks out to seduce him dressed as a FUCKING COWGIRL. I died 💀 like what do you mean Dean was into his YA literature so deep and the scene played out this way: 🤓📖🧙🏼‍♂️🤔💭🤠🌶️🤨🧐😯🫨🫡🥵. And real recognizes real when he says Hermione does all the work 😂

I wish they’d just get married already 🙄. I loved this chapter dude. Now do I need to go cry or take a cold shower? The world may never know bahahaha

Season 3, Episode 8 - A Very Supernatural Christmas (Part One)

Series Masterlist

Author’s Note: Hi everyone!! So….I did a thing💀 I may or may not have made a playlist for Y/N🙃 (I TOTALLY DID AHAHAHAH)

It’s on my Spotify but I’ll leave a link HERE for tumblr. It’s called ‘esp thing’ and for those reading on AO3, my tumblr is @dianawinchester03, you’ll see it linked in my navigation <3

Okay, I’m gonna start this chapter off by saying, IT'S SMUTTY. The beginning and the end so beware💀😭 We all know this episode so it’s also sad (lowkey teared up) Hope you enjoy❤️

This is only PART ONE and PART TWO is linked HERE.

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

Blackfoot, Idaho

•December 12th, 2007

It had been a little over two weeks since the trio’s unfortunate and ‘tragic’ encounter with Gordon. Within that time, they met up back with Jo, passed through South Dakota and retrieved Y/N’s beloved bike. Now back on the road, they finally finished a hunt, thankfully it was your average salt and burn. Sam, Dean, Y/N and Jo walked out of the cemetery together, all clutching their jacket’s to their bodies. Cold from the snow and exhausted from the long hours and in need of some R&R.

Y/N didn’t feel like driving so she tossed Jo the keys to Quinn. “Hey, you drive her tonight. I wanna rest a bit” Jo nodded and caught the keys, she knew how tired Y/N was and she didn’t blame her for not wanting to drive. “No problem, I’ll take good care of her.” Y/N smiled weakly and leaned against the car for support. “Thanks, skank.” She said gratefully. Jo blew her a kiss before turning to her own boyfriend, “You coming Sammy?” She asked, Sam looked a bit hesitant.

Not really wanting to hop on Y/N’s ‘death machine’ as he so kindly puts it, but he trusted Jo’s skills so he nodded, wrapping an arm around her waist before placing a kiss to her head as they trudged over to the bike.

Dean rubbed his eyes and stepped closer to Y/N and looked her over, noticing how exhausted she looked. “You look beat,” he commented, concern evident in his voice. “You sure you’re okay?” She flashed him a coy smile, her eyes flickering to Jo as she mounted her bike, strapping on a helmet on Sam the same way she would do for Dean. “Yeah, I’m just fine” She smiled wickedly before climbing into the Impala.

Dean wasn’t convinced but he didn't push the matter further. He got into the driver's seat while Jo started the motorcycle and revved the engine and Sam wrapped his shaky arms around her waist.

-

The drive back to their motel room was quiet, both too tired to make conversation. Y/N leaned back in her passenger seat, closing her eyes as she let the hum of the car lull her into a half-sleep.

Jo drove ahead on Y/N’s bike since Dean was taking his time in the Impala and since it was cold as fuck. Dean’s eyes darted back over to his girlfriend who still sported the coy smirk on her lips. Dean glanced at her with a mix of curiosity and concern. "Hey, you still awake over there?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

Y/N cracked open one eye and shot him a sly grin. "Yeah, I'm awake." She replied, her voice laced with mischief. This was one of the rare instances where Y/N and Dean were actually alone in the Impala so she took advantage. Suddenly, Her hand slowly trailed up Dean’s thigh from the passenger side seat, and she, of course, had that shit-eating smirk she stole from Dean plastered on her lips.

She felt Dean’s breath hitch, her eyes flickering up to him. “You little- is that why you gave Jo your keys?” It was Dean’s turn to smirk, realization dawned on him as to why she gave Jo her bike to drive ahead. "Maybe," Y/N said with a sly grin, her eyes twinkling with mischief. She leaned in closer to Dean, her warm breath tickling his ear as she whispered, "I wanted to make sure we had some alone time, baby."

Her fingers continued their slow ascent up Dean's muscular thigh, inching closer to his crotch with each passing second. Dean's body tensed beneath her touch, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Y/N chuckled softly, knowing exactly how to push Dean's buttons. Dean's grip tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as he struggled to keep his focus on the road.

"Alone time, huh?" His voice came out husky, laced with desire. "And here I thought you were actually tired." He shot a sideways glance at Y/N, his eyes darkened with lust. The Impala swerved slightly as his attention wavered, but he quickly corrected the path. Y/N giggled mischievously when she felt the Impala swerve, “What’s the matter, darlin’?” she teased, trailing her hand down his chest again and back onto his thigh.

Her touch sent tingles down his spine, and he tried to maintain his cool exterior despite the warmth spreading through him. “Just enjoying the ride, Princess,” he replied smoothly, trying to sound nonchalant while internally cursing himself for letting her get under his skin so easily. Instead, he decided to fuck with her a little.

He reached out, placing his large hand over hers gently guiding it back towards her lap. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, pulling away slightly from Dean's grasp but not enough to stop the contact between their hands. “Come on, Dean,” she pouted, batting her eyelashes innocently, “Don't play coy, you never deny sex” With a sly grin, she leaned closer to him, her breasts pressing against his arm as she whispered into his ear.

“Sammy’s probably already at the motel with Jo, booking their room, it’s just you and me here.” Dean felt his resolve weakening as Y/N’s body pressed against him, her warm breath tickling his ear. He let out a low groan, his free hand reaching up to tangle in her hair. "Fuck, Y/N," he muttered, his voice husky with desire. His grip tightened in her hair as he pulled her head back, exposing her neck to him.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her sensitive skin as he growled, "If you keep this up, I'm gonna pull over right here and take you right in the back." A light moan escaped her lips. “And what’s stopping ya, charming?” She grinned, moving to straddling his lap, leaning down to lay kisses on his neck. Her weight on his lap made his cock twitch in interest, and he cursed inwardly. He loved how bold she was, always pushing his limits.

His free hand moved to her hip, gripping it firmly as she kissed his neck. "Damn it, y/n/n," he hissed, feeling her nipples harden against his chest through their clothes. "I swear if we keep going like this, we ain't gon make it to the motel tonight." Y/N giggled at Dean's words, loving the control she had over him. She could see the lust in his eyes, the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch. "Good" she growled, grinding her hips against his growing erection.

“Because all I want right now, is just that” She moaned, peppering kisses down his neck feeling her grind against him, Dean let out a low groan, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. The need to fuck her right there and then was almost overwhelming. "Baby..." he warned, his voice rough with desire. "I gotta focus on driving... Or else we’re gonna end up crashing this car." He pleaded, as much as he wanted to take her in Baby, they were literally two minutes away from their motel.

She halted in her actions. “Well fine,” she huffed as she climbed off his lap, settled back in the passenger seat before stripping off her leather jacket “I’ll just finish myself” she chided before unzipping her jeans, pulling them down to reveal her lacy pink panties, Dean’s favorite. As soon as Y/N peeled her jeans off, Dean let out a low whistle. His gaze lingered on her exposed thighs and the curve of her ass peeking out from underneath her shirt.

"Fucking hell…" he hummed, his voice thick with lust as he shifted in his seat. "You know what... If you wanna finish yourself off, who am I to stop ya?" He watched intently as she began to stroke herself through her panties, a look of pure bliss crossing her face. It was an intoxicating sight, one that made his cock throb painfully in his pants.

Y/N moaned softly, her eyes fluttering shut as she continued to stroke herself through her panties. Her other hand reached up to cup her breast, tweaking her nipple through the fabric of her t-shirt. "Fuck... This feels so good," she whimpered, her body arching off the seat as pleasure coursed through her veins. "Wish you were touching me instead though..." Her words hung heavy in the air between them, making Dean even harder if possible.

“Oh my God!” she gasped, before slipping her panties off, teasing her clit. The sight of her completely bare below the waist, stroking herself in the passenger seat was enough to push Dean over the edge. His cock pressed painfully against his zipper through his boxers, demanding release. "Jesus Christ, y/n/n," he groaned, shifting in his seat.

His gaze was fixated on her hand as it slid down her slit, teasing her clit. He wanted nothing more than to replace her hand with his own, to feel her slick heat coating his fingers. Y/N let out another loud moan, her body trembling as she continued to rub herself. With the way Dean was frantically glancing from the road and back to her, it only seemed to fuel her arousal further.

"I bet you wish you could taste me right about now," she taunted, biting her lip as she spread her legs further apart, giving him an unobstructed view of her dripping wet pussy. Her fingers dipped lower, circling her entrance teasingly. She used her own slick to coat her nub once more, her whiny and breathless moan filling the car and Dean’s ears as she plunged two fingers inside herself, curling them upwards to hit that sweet spot.

“Oh my God, Dean!” The sound of y/n moaning his name, coupled with the sight of her fingers disappearing inside herself rapidly was too much for Dean to handle. Thankfully, they had arrived at the motel parking lot just in time to see Y/N’s bike was already parked, indicating Sam and Jo must’ve already booked themselves their own motel room. Leaving them to get their own.

He allowed his restraint to snap, pulling the Impala into the first free parking space before putting it in park. The car jerked forward with the rapid movements, making Y/N’s breast jiggle through her shirt, he then unbuckled his seatbelt, turning towards her. “You fucking tease," he growled, reaching across the seat to grab her wrist. "Let me help you with that."

She cried out as Dean grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away from her dripping pussy. She looked at him with wide eyes, filled with lust and anticipation. A gasp of satisfaction left her throat as he replaced his finger with hers, toying with her clit. Dean's heart pounded in his chest as he watched y/n squirm under his touch. His thumb brushed over her swollen clit, applying just enough pressure to send waves of pleasure coursing through her.

"You like that?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "You like it when I touch you like this?” Without waiting for a response, he pushed two fingers inside her, curling them upward to hit that sweet spot within her. Feeling her walls clenched around his fingers drove Dean wild with desire.

He increased the pace, pumping his fingers in and out of her while his thumb continued its relentless assault on her clit. "That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice rough with lust. "Cum for me." He demanded as her cries of ecstasy echoed through his other ‘Baby’. He leaned closer, his mouth hovering just above hers as he whispered, "Show me how much you love my touch." Dean then leaned down and replaced his finger with his mouth, slurping her up like a hungry starved man.

“Oh FUCK don’t stop” Dean's tongue delved deep into y/n’s folds, lapping up her juices as he devoured her pussy. He could taste her sweetness mixed with the musk of her arousal, and it only fueled his hunger for her. Murmuring dirty praises against her slick flesh, punctuating each movement with filthy words. Words meant to drive her wild, to make her lose control as he sucked on her clit, flicking it with his tongue before diving back in to feast on her cunt.

“Good girl…scream for me just like that” His fingers gripped her thighs tightly, holding her in place as he pleasured her relentlessly. She grinded her pussy against his face shamelessly with every lick and suckle of her clit from Dean. "You're such a fucking slut for my touch," he groaned against her pussy. "So needy and greedy for my dick..."

Between licks and sucks, he whispered against her, his hot breath sending shivers through her body. "Fuck, you taste so good... Mmm, your cunt is so juicy for me... Yeah, cum on my tongue, baby…” Y/N’s body shook violently as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her, heeding to her man’s command. Her hands fisted in Dean's hair, holding him tight against her throbbing sex as she rode out her climax.

"Oh fuck, Dean! Yes, yes, YES!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the empty car. "Don't stop, please don't stop!" She pleaded shamelessly, bringing up her hands to cup her mouth in an attempt to muffle her cries of pleasure with her hand but it was too intense, her hips jerked erratically, grinding herself against his face as he continued to lap at her sensitive flesh.

He drew out every last tremor of pleasure from her quivering body, the familiar flash of white lighting in her eyes as she orgasmed. Dean didn't relent, continuing to worship her spasming pussy with his tongue until he felt her start to come down from her high. Only then did he slowly pull back, his lips glistening with her essence.

Panting heavily, he looked up at her with a satisfied smirk. "That's what I like to see, Princess. You look so beautiful when you cum for me." Leaning back, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before capturing her lips in a searing kiss, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

Y/N kissed Dean back fiercely, their tongues tangling together in a passionate dance. She could still feel the aftershocks of her orgasm rippling through her, making her clit throb with renewed need.

Breaking the kiss, she gazed at Dean with hooded eyes, her voice husky with desire. "I think we've both worked up quite the appetite. Why don't we take this back to the motel room and satisfy it properly?" She grunted as she shimmied her jeans back on, handing him her pink panties. Which he accepted graciously, stuffing them into his jacket pocket.

She reached for the door handle, a coy smile playing on her lips as she glanced back at him. "Unless you'd rather finish what I started here in the car..." The thought of taking her right there, in the backseat of the Impala, sent a thrill of excitement through Dean. But he knew they needed privacy for what he had planned, something far more intimate than quickie sex.

"Nah," he said, grabbing her hand and helping her out of the car on his side instead. "A bed would be better. Besides, I want to savor every inch of you. Plus it’s cold as fuck." She laughed at his words, agreeing with them as he led her toward the motel room after booking the room for a couple of days. He couldn’t resist stealing a glance at her ass swaying provocatively behind her.

Y/N caught Dean looking and winked at him over her shoulder. She loved the way he ogled her, especially when they were alone like this. It made her feel desired, cherished.

Once inside the motel room, she turned to face him, her eyes locked onto his with a sultry promise. "Then why don't you show me exactly how much you want to savor me?" She began to undress slowly, peeling off one piece of clothing after another until she stood before him naked and ready.

Watching y/n strip was like watching a delicious meal being prepared. Each layer peeled away and revealed more of her ravishing body that begged to be touched. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," he breathed out, stepping closer to her. His hands reached out to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples.

His mouth descended upon hers once again, kissing her deeply as he pressed his body against hers. He could already smell her arousal mingling with the scent of their recent lovemaking. Y/N moaned into Dean's mouth, arching her back to press her breasts further into his hands. She loved the way he touched her, how he took his time to explore every inch of her body.

Pulling away from the kiss, she slid his brown leather jacket off of his broad shoulders. Allowing it to sink to the ground, she then reached for the hem of his shirt, aiding him with peeling it off of his body. "Your turn," she purred, reaching for the waistband of his pants. Dean grinned wickedly as she undressed him, his cock already straining against the confines of his jeans. Once freed, it sprang forth, thick and hard and ready for action.

Once fully undressed, “Jump” He ordered in a gruff tone, grabbing her hips, Y/N obeyed without hesitation, snaking her arms around his shoulder and hoisting herself up with a jump. Dean caught her easily, his girl wrapping her legs tightly around him as his hands gripped her thighs. "Good girl. I'm gonna fuck you so hard, you won't remember your own name." He praised as he carried her towards the bed.

She felt him position himself at her entrance, the head of his cock teasing her slick folds after lowering her onto the mattress, he settled between her thighs, the tip of his cock nudging insistently at her entrance. "Tell me you want it, y/n. Beg for my dick."

"I want it," she whimpered, feeling desperate for his penetration. "Please, Dean... I need you inside me." Arching her back off the bed, she pushed her hips up towards him, trying to impale herself on his length. Dean chuckled lowly at her eagerness, enjoying the sight of her squirming beneath him. With deliberate slowness, he rubbed the tip of his cock along her slit, coating himself in her wetness.

"So impatient," he teased, leaning down to nip at her ear. Finally, mercifully, he thrust forward, burying himself balls-deep inside her tight dripping cunt. A guttural groan tore from his throat at the exquisite sensation. "Fuuuuck, you feel incredible..."

Y/N cried out as Dean filled her completely, her walls clenching around his aching cock. The stretch and fullness was overwhelming, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her nerve endings. "Yes, oh god, yes!" she gasped, her nails digging into Dean's back. "More, please... Harder!"

She rocked her hips against him, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a fierce kiss as she lost herself in the rhythm of their passion. Driven by her pleas and the intoxicating taste of her lips, Dean began to move within her with increasing urgency. His hips snapped forward, driving his cock deeper into her welcoming warmth with each thrust.

One hand braced on the bed beside her head while the other slid down to tease at her clit, adding another layer of stimulation to their frenzied coupling. "Damn, you're so tight..." he whined, his pace growing more erratic. "Look at you taking my cock so good, like you were made for me...you’re amazing."

Y/N’s breath hitched with every deep thrust, her inner muscles fluttering around Dean's pulsing cock. She could barely form coherent thoughts as waves of pleasure washed over her. "That's it, sweetheart..." she moaned, her voice laced with lust. "Don’t stop. Pleaseee”, Tightening her legs around his waist.

Feeling Y/N’s legs tighten around him, Dean redoubled his efforts, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. He grunted with each stroke, reveling in the sound of her moans and the way her body responded to his touch.

"God, you're so fucking wet for me," he growled, leaning down to bite gently at the soft flesh of her breast. "I can feel how much you want this..." With a powerful thrust, he hit that sweet spot inside her that had her seeing stars.

Y/N shrieked in ecstasy as Dean found that magic spot deep within her, her vision blurring at the edges. She felt like she was teetering on the brink of something immense, her entire being focused on the intense sensations coursing through her.

"Oh god, yes! Right there, Dean!" she screamed, her fingers scrabbling at his back as he pounded into her relentlessly. “Don’t stop, please, I'm so close!" He suddenly pulled out, pulling his cock out of her before yanking her by her feet to the edge of the bed and flipping her onto all fours, y/n let out a startled whimper. But it quickly turned into a high-pitched keen as she felt his cock slam back into her, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper.

The change in angle intensified the already explosive chemistry between them. Dean gripped y/n’s hips tightly, anchoring her as he continued to pound into her. The clapping of their skins filled the room, "Shit, you look so fucking hot like this," he panted, leaning over her back to whisper in her ear. "Bent over for me like this... Take it all." increasing his pace once more, Dean drove into her with renewed vigor.

The combination of Dean's dirty talk and relentless thrusts had her soaking his cock and she hadn’t even cum yet. Her toes curling and her back arched. "Harder, baby!" she pleaded, pushing back against him with abandon. Begging him to say more dirty praises.

Encouraged by y/n’s pleas, Dean gave her exactly what she wanted. Harder, faster, deeper. Each thrust echoed throughout the room, punctuated by their mingled moans and gasps. "You're such a slut for my cock," he whispered huskily, nipping at her shoulder.

He reached around to rub at her swollen clit, applying just enough pressure to send her spiraling towards climax. The combination of Dean’s cock and his fingers' assault on her pussy proved too much for y/n to bear. As his words and touch coaxed her closer to the edge, she felt her orgasm building like a tidal wave, threatening to consume her entirely.

"Yes, yes, YES!" she wailed, her voice cracking with desperation. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" With a final, brutal thrust, he sent her careening over the precipice. Her pussy clenched rhythmically around his cock as she came undone, her whole body shaking with the force of her release as her eyes flashed again.

Her eyes connected with Dean’s from over her shoulder, a wicked grin on her face. With feeling her pussy convulse around him coupled with the fucking intoxicating sight of y/n’s eyes and that grin playing on her face, Dean buried himself to the hilt and let go, his own orgasm washing over him in waves.

"Fuuuck, y/nnn!" he roared, his hips jerking erratically as he emptied himself deep inside her quivering cunt. "So fucking perfect..." Collapsing against her momentarily, kissing her shoulder as his softening cock slipped out of her. In almost an instant, he went to work taking care of his girl.

After cleaning her and himself up, the bed dipped as Dean laid beside her, scooping y/n into his arms and pulling her against his chest. His hands roamed over her body, smoothing down her mussed hair, tucking a strand behind her ear before tracing comforting patterns on her skin. He placed tender kisses along her neck and shoulder, soothing her trembling body.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice rough with affection. "Are you okay? Did I go too hard on you?" There was an underlying concern in his tone, a hint of worry that he may have pushed her too far. "No, you did good," Y/N replied, her voice raspy with exhaustion. She snuggled closer to him, relishing the feel of his strong arms around her.

"I'm fine, babe. You didn't hurt me. You always take care of me." She lifted her head to plant a tender kiss on his chin. Dean relaxed, his lips tugging into a small smile. "Good," he replied, his voice gentle as he placed a kiss on her forehead and tucked her head beneath his chin.

____________________________________________

Ypsilanti, Michigan

•December 21st 2007

A little girl stood looking outside through a glass door and a woman stood outside, being interviewed by the Dean and Y/N who were disguised as FBI while Sam and Jo took a look around the house. “Um, my daughter and I were in our beds. Mike was downstairs decorating the tree. I heard a thump on the roof and then I heard Mike scream. And now I’m talking to the FBI.” The woman shakily explained, “And you didn't see any of it?” Dean asked while writing on his notepad.

The woman shook her head as she crossed her arms over her chest, “No, he was… he was just gone.” Y/N stood beside Dean, her gaze drifting towards the little girl standing on the other side of the glass door. She noticed how pale the child looked, her small frame trembling with fear. Y/N felt an ache of sympathy for the helpless girl.

“The doors were locked? There was no forced entry?” Y/N asked, stuffing her hands into her dress pants pockets. “That’s right,” The woman confirmed. “Does anybody else have a key?” Dean asked, “My parents.” The woman answered, “Where do they live?” Y/N asked with furrowed brows. “Florida,” The woman replied. Sam and Jo emerged through the door, “Thanks for letting us have a look around, Mrs. Walsh.” Jo said politely to the woman as Sam fixed his tie.

“I think we, uh, got just about everything we need. We’re all set.” Sam said gently as he stepped onto the porch. Dean and Y/N nodded, “We’ll be in touch.” Dean dismissed, Mrs. Walsh nodded in response. Her face filled with despair as the four headed down her porch, “Agents” she called out to them, the hunters turning back around almost immediately. Concern plastered on their faces, “The police said my husband might have been kidnapped.”

“Could be” Y/N answered, offering the woman a sympathetic look. “Then why haven’t the kidnappers called? O-or – or demanded a ransom? It’s three days till Christmas. What am I supposed to tell our daughter?” Mrs. Walsh stuttered, her voice cracking with emotion. Jo sighed heavily, biting her lip before saying. “We’re very sorry” apologetically. Mrs. Walsh’s face fell once more as she turned and walked back into her hour and the four made their way down her stairs.

“Find anything?” Dean asked Sam and Jo, the couple sighing. “Stocking, mistletoe… this.” Sam replied, handing Dean the small piece of evidence from out of his pocket, wiping his hand in his jacket. “A tooth? Where was this?” Dean’s face scrunched up in disgust as he accepted it, holding it up to examine the bloody tooth. “In the chimney.” Jo answered, fixing her blouse.

“Chimney? No way a man fits up a chimney. It’s too narrow.” Y/N pointed out. “No way he fits up in one piece.” Sam retorted. “Alright, so, if dad went up the chimney—” Dean began. “We need to find out what dragged him up there.” Sam finished, the four sharing a determined look.

-

Now in Dean and Y/N’s motel room, pictures of demons were pinned up on the wall. Sam and Y/N were searching the Internet for information about demons on their laptops. Jo sprawled across the bed, flicking her knife in her hand as she read a book about demons. The door suddenly opened and Dean walked inside, carrying a brown paper bag. “So, was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?” Dean chimed, closing the door behind him.

Y/N snorted in amusement, rubbing her forehead as Sam deadpanned, “Yep. It's, uh, it’s actually Dick Van Dyke.” Dean’s face scrunched up in confusion, “Who?” His brows furrowed, “Mary Poppins?” Jo stated as if it was obvious, pushing herself up from the bed. “Who’s that?” Dean asked once more, causing Sam, Jo and Y/N’s jaws to drop. “Oh come on- ugh, never mind.” Sam scoffed, waving his hand, dropping his hand in defeat.

Y/N shook her head as she took up her coffee mug from the table, sipping it. Dean shrugged, setting the brown bag down next to Y/N, “Well, it turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month.” He scratched his head as he informed them, “Oh yeah?” Y/N asked as he walked over to the table to place a kiss on top of her head before peeling off his leather jacket. “Yeah” he answered.

“The other guy get dragged up the chimney, too?” Jo asked as she stuck her knife into her pocket and walked over to the coffee pot. “Don’t know. Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof.” Dean answered with a frown, glancing over to his brother who wore the same expression. The brothers shrugged simultaneously. “So, what the hell do you think we’re dealing with?” Dean asked as he walked over to the bed to place his jacket.

“Actually, I have an idea.” Sam began, “Good, cause’ I’ve got horse shit.” Y/N grumbled, shutting her laptop as she leaned back into her chair. “Yeah, it’s uh, gonna sound crazy.” Sam warned them, “What could you possibly say that sounds crazy to us?” Dean chuckled, the other two women wearing expectant looks. “So…get this, and hear me out—” Sam began, pushing himself up. The three hunters nodded, “Evil Santa” Sam said sheepishly.

Dean paused, making eye contact with Y/N, who’s brows shot to the roof and Jo tilted her head. “Yeah, that’s crazy” Dean confirmed, Sam rolled his eyes but agreed. “Yeah. I mean, I’m just saying that there’s some version of the anti-Claus in every culture.” Sam defended, showing Dean and Y/N some pictures. Jo padded over to her boyfriend with two coffee mugs in her handis, extending one towards him. He thanked her before continuing, “You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter. Whatever you want to call it, there’s all sorts of lore.” As he handed Y/N the pictures.

She accepted, her own boyfriend walked over to her and leaned downwards to get a proper look. “Saying what?” Y/N asked, shuffling the pictures. “Saying…” Sam began as he took a sip of his coffee, he wrapped his free arm around Jo’s waist. She stood next to him as he leaned back in his chair. “…back in the day, Santa’s brother went rogue and now he shows up around Christmas time, but instead of bringing presents, he punishes the wicked.”

“By hauling their ass up chimneys?” Dean asked skeptically, Y/N snorted in amusement, gently tapping Dean on his stomach with the pictures. “For starters, yeah.” Sam answered, ignoring his brother's skeptical look as Jo snickered softly, sipping her coffee. “So, this is your theory, huh? Santa’s shady brother?” Dean said as he crossed his arms. Y/N rolled her eyes at the way Dean quickly dismissed the possibility. Sam sighed, glancing over to his girlfriend for support.

“He’s just saying that’s what the lore says” Jo defended, “Santa doesn’t have a brother. There is no Santa.” Dean shot back, “Yeah, I know. You’re the one who told us that in the first place, remember?” Y/N piped up, shooting Dean a look over her shoulder that made him shrink. He felt his heart drop in his chest, looking down guilty as Sam and Y/N shared a sad look. Jo glanced between the three with curious eyes, sensing more to what Y/N just dropped.

Sam frowned as he turned back to his computer and Y/N gulped down the rest of her coffee. Sam sighed heavily, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair, “Yeah, you know what, I could be wrong. I…” Sam sighed again, shutting his computer. “..gotta be wrong.” He muttered, Dean glanced over to Sam and then to Y/N. The wheels turned in his head before he said, “Maybe, maybe not” He said, placing up a finger. The three looked at him with intrigue. “What?” Y/N asked.

“I did a little digging. Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched.” Dean explained, “Where?” Jo asked, her brows furrowed.

-

A little later, the four found themselves in a Santa’s Village. Christmas music played through the park, children were playing and people wearing Christmas costumes were walking around. Some in reindeer outfits, elves, you name it. The park was nicely decorated to accommodate any family and their children to visit ‘Santa’.

“It does kind of lend credence to the theory, don’t it?” Dean commented as they walked into the park, his hands stuffed into his jacket. Y/N and Jo walked between the boys, Y/N next to Dean and Jo next to Sam, “Yeah, but anti-Claus? Couldn’t be.” Sam scoffed, “Yeah, it’s a miracle. Dare I say, a Christmas miracle” Y/N deadpanned, earning laughs from everyone. Dean had a thoughtful look, shifting his gaze to Y/N before saying with a smile,

“Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year. All four of us, we should celebrate” Dean suggested, Jo’s face lit up at the suggestion but Sam felt like vomiting and Y/N’s face scrunched up, “Have one what?” Sam muttered, “A Christmas! I’m with Dean, we should celebrate” Jo said excitedly, Y/N and Sam threw each other glances but then Sam softened, his eyes glued to his girlfriend’s enthusiasm. Still, he shook his head, “Yeah. No thanks”

Sam had to force himself not to look at Jo because her face fell almost immediately, a deep frown replacing her smile, “Oh, come on! Why not? This is our first holiday season all together.” Jo pleaded, her eyes widening as she gripped Sam by his bicep and shook him. “Yeah, listen to Barbie, we’ll get a tree, a little Boston market, just like when we were little.” Dean tried to persuade them, “Charming, those weren’t exactly Hallmark memories for us, you know.” Y/N said with a dry chuckle.

Sam chuckled dryly in agreement. “What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases.” Dean said confused, Sam and Y/N looked over at Dean with faces that said, ‘the fuck?’. “Whose childhood are you talking about?” Sam scoffed. “Oh, come on, guys,” Dean whined. “Oh come on, don’t be such a party pooper” Jo whined, she wrapped her arms around Sam’s neck and tried to give him her puppy eyes.

She tried her best to pout, and the corners slightly turned in an attempt to look innocent and pathetic. Y/N looked over to Dean, who was also trying to bring out his best puppy dog eyes. The elder Winchester grabbing his girlfriend by her waist, Y/N almost melted into his resolve as Sam almost melted into Jo’s resolve but the two held up a strong front, glancing over to each other with looks that said, ‘Are they fuckin’ serious right now?’

“No! Just… no.” Sam said sadly, shaking his head. Y/N nodded in agreement, a solemn look on her face. “Dean, it’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you. It’s just—….no.” Y/N said firmly. Jo’s face fell once more as Dean looked surprised at the fact that not even their pleading worked. “Alright, grinches” He scoffed, forcefully taking his hands off of Y/N’s waist and walking away. Jo let go of Sam, nodding understandably. She placed a kiss on Sam's cheek, saying, “It’s okay, Sammy,” before excusing herself to the bathroom.

“You coming?” She asked Y/N, but the psychic shook her head, “I’m fine’ as she watched Dean storm off with a frown. Jo nodded sadly, making his way to the bathroom as Sam and Y/N shared a look before she let out a sigh. “You’d think after all these years he’d understand that Christmas isn’t our cup of tea” Y/N said with a shake of her head.

“You’d think” Sam chuckled dryly and rolled his eyes, “I don’t get it, he’s never made a big deal about it before…” Y/N shrugged, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Maybe he just really wants a family Christmas?” She suggested, her eyes piercing her boyfriend’s back standing in front of Santa Claus’s cottage with a thoughtful look. “Maybe” Sam muttered, getting lost in his own thoughts as he stared at a reindeer.

Broken Bow, Nebraska

•Christmas Eve, 1991

Reindeers pull Santa’s sleigh across the sky on the TV, which is playing “A Year Without Santa Claus”. Eight-year-old Sammy and Y/N/N were kneeling on the ground, both wrapping something with newspapers. “What is that?” Twelve-year-old Dean asked from the window still, where he was looking out for their dads, praying they’d be back for Christmas.

“A present for Dad” Sam answered as Y/N nodded, “I got something for daddy, too” Y/N said excitedly while Dean scoffed, “Yeah, right. Where’d you get the money? Steal it?” Y/N rolled her eyes as Sam looked at Dean with sharp squinted eyes. “No, Uncle Bobby gave it to us to give to ‘em. Said it was real special.” Sam smiled as he and Y/N put the finishing pieces of tape around the newspaper. “What is it?” Dean asked curiously, trying to catch a peep, “A pony” Y/N shot back sarcastically, hiding it away.

Dean scoffed again, a small blush playing on his cheeks. “Very funny,” he deadpanned as he made his way around the couch, sitting down next to her and taking up a magazine. “You’re just jealous” Y/N mumbled, shoving his leg with her shoulder as she poked her tongue out at him. Dean shook his head, smiling at her as she finished up wrapping the gift. They grew silent, the only sound being the tv playing the same Christmas movie from before.

“Dean?” Sam piped up from the ground. “Yeah, squirt?” Dean asked, not tearing his gaze from the magazine he was reading. “Dad and Mr. L/N are gonna be here, right?” Sam asked. Dean sighed, lowering the magazine in his hands. “They’ll be here.” Dean assured his little brother softly. Dean himself seemed unsure, despite trying to convince the two. A small pout played on Y/N’s lips at the thought of not seeing her dad for the holidays.

Especially when for the first time she actually had something to give to him, “But it’s Christmas” she whined. “I know, princess” Dean said as he reached his hand over, tousling her hair. “They know and they’ll be here. Promise.” he assured her. Sam was still looking over at his brother, a frown playing on his face. “Promise?” Sam asked timidly, to which Dean placed his hand on his brother’s head, ruffling his hair too. “Promise”

Y/N smiled, holding up her pinky. Dean snorted, rolling his eyes before interlocking his own pinky with her. The younger girl’s face flushed as she pushed back her hair once she let go of Dean’s pinky. “Where are they, anyway?” She asked curiously, a slightly nervous look on her face. She didn't want to hear ‘on business’ again from Dean, she didn’t even believe it when he said that. Because what ‘business man’ teaches his then six-year-old daughter how to shoot a gun?

“On business.” Dean answered dryly, flipping through the magazine. Sam and Y/N shared an unconvinced look, “What kind of business?” Sam pressed, “They sell stuff, you guys know that” Dean replied.

“What kind of stuff?” Y/N pushed, “Stuff” Dean shot back vaguely. Sam and Y/N sighed, shaking their heads. “Nobody ever tells us anything” Sam frowned, “Then quit asking” Dean huffed, rolling his eyes as he pushed himself up from the couch, not wanting to have this conversation. He made his way around to his bed, Y/N’s eyes following his every single move. He brushed off the diner food wrapping papers from his bed and onto the ground with a sigh, settling on the bed with his magazine.

Sam and Y/N glanced at each other, a saddened look crossing their faces. They hated feeling like they were such a bother, but they were just curious. “Dean?” Sam called out to his brother, and he groaned in response, running a hand down his face. “What now, squirt?” he grumbled, lowering the magazine. “Are they spies?” Sam asked as he and Y/N pushed themselves onto the couch, their elbows bracing in the back as they propped themselves. “Mm-hmm. They’re James Bond and Austin Powers.” Dean answered sarcastically.

“Why do we move around so much?” Y/N asked. Dean grew annoyed, “Cause’ everywhere we go, they get sick of your faces.” He shot back. Y/N’s face contorted in anger at the reply, her hands balling into fists, “Shut up!”

“No, you shut up” Dean shot back immaturely.

“Shut up, you suck!” Y/N shouted as she jumped over the couch and paced over to his bed.

“You shut up times infinity, you suck more!” Dean stood up, towering over her.

“Shut up times infinity times twenty!” She screamed back, tiptoeing to get in his face.

“You shut up first!” The two went back and forth, their voices getting louder and more heated by the second. Sam sighed, his head falling into his hands in embarrassment. “You two idiots, knock it off!” Sam yelled over their bickering, jumping over the chair to pull Y/N back from tackling his brother. “No, I’mma beat the crap out of him! Let me go, Sammy!” Y/N yelled, struggling in his grip.

Dean snorted in amusement, not really mad at her, he was just happy he got them to drop the subject. Sam rolled his eyes, pulling her back, “We’re old enough, Dean. You can tell us the truth” Sam went back to the subject in hand, Dean sighed as Y/N began to calm down, “You don’t wanna know the truth. Believe me.” Dean assured him, “I don’t get it, charming. Why won’t you tell us?” Y/N groaned, slightly frustrated. Dean sighed, shaking his head.

“Is that why we never talk about…our moms?” Sam asked wearily, gulping. This made Dean snap. He tossed his magazine to the side, marching over and getting in his little brother’s face. “Shut up! Don’t you ever talk about mom and Auntie M/N. Ever!”

Sam flinched at his older brother’s sudden outburst, his face falling. Y/N felt her heart lurch at the way Sam was being yelled at and at the subject of their mothers. Also flinching, she wanted to curl up in a ball with the way Dean snapped. She quickly pulled an equally terrified Sam back. Shoving the taller boy behind her.

Dean snapped out of his anger when he realized how terrified his little brother and Y/N looked. He felt bad, he knew he shouldn’t have reacted in such an aggressive way. The only reason he truly reacted like that was due to the way John and F/N would yell at him when he asked about them. He backed up, quickly picking up his jacket, “Wait, where are you going?” Sam’s shaky but concerned voice called out to his brother. “Out” he answered with a scoff as he put his jacket on. “When are you gonna come back?” Y/N’s voice piped up, sounding smaller.

Her eyes were fixed on the floor, she seemed to be trying to hold her tears back. Dean gritted his teeth, his breath hitched in a guilty way. He didn’t answer nor look back, instead he shut the door harshly behind him. Leaving Sam and Y/N in the room alone. Y/N looked at the door with a saddened look with tears threatening to fall from her eyes. It was silent, the only sound was the movie playing on the T.V.

“What did we do?” Sam croaked out, his voice just as sad. She frowned, pulling him into a tight hug, “Nothing” she whispered.

Ypsilanti, Michigan

•December 21st 2007 - Present Time

Y/N snapped out of her reminiscing as Jo made her way back to them, zipping up her pants and Dean paced back over to them. “You’d think with the 10 bucks it costs to get into this place, Santa could scrounge up a little snow.” Dean grumbled with distaste. “What?” Y/N asked, blinking rapidly while Sam was still lost in his head. Jo noticed the distant look on her boyfriend’s face and gently placed her hand on his chest, “You okay, baby?” She asked gently.

Sam seemed to snap back to reality as looked down to see his girlfriend’s concerned eyes staring up at him. He sighed, “No, yeah. I’m fine. Just remembering something.” He lied while forcing a smile on his face, to which Y/N’s frown deepened. Wondering if he was thinking of the same thing. “What’d you say, Dean?” Sam asked, clearing his throat. “Nothing. What are we looking for, again?” Dean asked, waving his finger at his surroundings.

“Um…” Sam began, looking around, “…lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets.” He explained as they all began walking more into the park. “Great. So we’re looking for a pimp Santa. Why the sweets?” Dean scoffed, Y/N chuckled in amusement at the analogy. “Think about it, Dean. If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer, you know?” She explained. Dean’s brows furrowed along with Jo’s, “That’s creepy.” Jo commented. They all lightly chuckled, “Agreed, sister” Dean grimaced.

“How does this thing even know who’s been naughty and who’s been nice?” Dean asked, “I don’t know.” Sam answered honestly as they stopped in front of a small barn. Sitting in front was a man wearing a Santa Claus costume and a line of parents with their kids. People dressed up as elves directed them as a woman with her son approached Santa. “So, Ronny, come sit on Santa’s knee.” The man patted his knee, groaning as he helped the boy onto his lap.

“Ah, there you go. You been a good boy this year?” Santa asked. “Yeah” Ronny answered timidly. “Good. Santa’s got a special gift for you.” Santa cackled a bit creepily as he rubbed Ronny’s back. The hunters looked on speculatively, Y/N and Jo grimacing along with Sam. “Maybe we do” Dean answered his own question from before, as Ronny’s mother took his hand and led him away from Santa.

Then, a woman in an elf costume walked up to the hunters with a cheerful smile, “Welcome to Santa’s court. Can I escort your child to Santa?” She asked, “Uh…” Sam stammered as Jo shook her head. “No. No. Uh, but actually my brother here it's been a lifelong dream of his.” Dean said with a mischievous smile, smacks Sam on his shoulder. Sam sideeyed Dean as Y/N covered her mouth, trying not to laugh and Jo shook her head at the elder Winchester. Though she was amused.

The woman looked at Sam as though he was a freak, “Uh, sorry. No kids over… 12.” Sam shook his head, trying to clarify the situation. “No, he’s just kidding. We only came here to watch.” Sam’s words made Jo physically facepalm and Y/N squeeze her eyes shut to stop herself from laughing once more as Dean shook his head at the elf with a smirk. The elf backed up with a look of disgust, “Ew” before darting in the other direction.

Sam’s face fell when he now realized how it sounded, “I-I didn’t mean that we came here to w- Y- ” He tried to defend himself, only to snap his gaze over to his hysterical brother and surrogate sister, who were clutching their stomachs and wheezing. “Thanks a lot, Dean. Thanks for that.” Sam deadpanned, stuffing his hands back into his pocket.

Dean chuckled, ruffling his little brother’s hair affectionately. “No problem, Sammy.” Dean replied with a smirk, winking at Y/N, who was still holding her abdomen from how hard she was laughing. Jo scoffed, shaking her head in amusement also. Suddenly, his face turned serious as the man dressed as Santa Claus hobbled off his chair, “Check it out.” Dean drew their attention to him as he limped past them, their eyes following his every move.

With furrowed brows and curious eyes, the four watched while Y/N and Dean’s noses caught a sweet scent radiating from the man, “Are you guys seeing this?” Y/N muttered to them in an urgent tone. Dean nodded as Sam and Jo shrugged, “A lot of people walk with limps, right?” Jo dismissed skeptically. Dean’s face fell, “Tell me you didn’t smell that. That was candy, man.” He insisted, “That was Ripple. I think. Had to be.” Sam shot back, tilting his head to look at Santa once more.

“Maybe” Y/N sighed at the fact that they could be right, “We willing to take that chance? Dean asked with a raised brow in their direction. Sam and Jo shared a look, communicating with their eyes whether they should or shouldn’t. “Hey, we’ve chased a lot worse.” Jo mumbled, “Fair point.” Sam muttered back.

-

They ended up finding themselves staking out a simple house that was decorated with Christmas lights, which belonged to the man dressed as Santa Claus. It was nightfall and they had already been there, bored out of their minds in the Impala. Y/N and Jo were half-asleep out of their asses in the backseat while Sam sat shotgun with his brother.

Dean yawned, his head leaning back against the chair. He glanced wearily over at his brother who was resting his head in his hand, staring straight ahead. “I hate stakeouts.” Sam grumbled while Dean nodded in agreement, “Mm. Yup.” He replied, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?” Dean asked with another yawn, “Same as the last time you asked.” Sam deadpanned. That earned him an unimpressed look from Dean as he chuckled slightly and held up a thermos, “Here. Caffeinate” he handed it to Dean.

Y/N was now beginning to wake up as Dean accepted the thermos with an appreciative groan, sitting up straight to open it. Once opened, he attempted to pour some into the cap but he came up empty. His face fell before he stuffed the cap back on, mumbling a sarcastic, “Wonderful” Chucking the thermos back into Sam’s hands.

Hearing her boyfriend’s crankiness, she carefully placed Jo’s head from resting on her shoulder to her lap and reached into her duffel bag, which was placed on the floorboards in the backseat. She dug around a bit and pulled out a Snicker’s bar.

Dean looked over his shoulder, noticing his girlfriend digging through her bag. He then looked down when a Snicker’s bar landed in his lap. His face lit up immediately like an excited puppy, glancing back over at her with a bright smile as she handed Sam a pack of gum. “I love you” Dean cooed before ripping the wrapping paper open with his teeth.

Y/N chuckled softly, “I love you more” she whispered, leaning over to press a kiss to the back of his neck while Sam opened his pack of gum. “So much better” Dean grumbled while taking a bite out of the Snickers bar. He chewed, taking a few seconds to look at it before holding it out to Y/N. “Want some?” He mumbled. she shook her head, “No thank you. Those are for you” she replied with a fond smile.

He pouted at her refusal, but shrugged and continued eating. Dean thought to himself for a second, his eyes flickering between Sam and Y/N, watching as Sam handed a stick of gum to her. Jo began to stir a bit in Y/N’s lap. Blinking her eyes a bit, her ears perked up when Dean suddenly asked, “Hey, guys?” He began, “Yeah?” Sam and Y/N answered in unison. “Why are you two boy and girl that hate Christmas?” Dean asked curiously, their eyes darkened. Sharing an exasperated look.

“Dean-” Sam groaned as Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose before wiping her mouth. “I mean, I admit it. You know, we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids.” Dean admitted, chewing on his snickers bar. “Bumpy?” Y/N scoffed bitterly, “That was then. We’ll do it right this year.” Dean insisted. Sam’s tired features deepened while Jo listened in, now wide awake. “Look, Dean. If you want to have Christmas, knock yourself out. Just don’t involve us.” Sam said tiredly, turning to Y/N.

“You with me, y/n/n?” He asked for her to back him up. Y/N met his eyes as she lazily leaned back into the seat. “I’m with you, brother,” She said firmly, pumping a fist in the air. Dean looked at his brother and girlfriend with disbelief and a twinge of hurt as Jo rose from Y/N’s lap. “Oh, yeah, that’d be great. Me and myself making cranberry molds.” Dean muttered sarcastically.

“I’ll make ‘em with you, Dean.” Jo chimed in with a yawn, stretching out her stiff muscles. Dean smirked, “See? There’s someone with Christmas cheer.” he said, pointing a finger at her. Y/N rolled her eyes as Sam scoffed, his eyes softened when he glanced at his girlfriend’s tired face. “You sleep well, angel?” Jo smiled tiredly, “As good as I’ll get in this piece of junk” she replied cheekily, reaching a hand over to cup his face. Sam leaned into it, kissing her palm.

Dean looked visibly offended while Y/N cupped a hand over her mouth. “Hey, don’t hate on Baby” He scowled. “I don’t hate her” Jo laughed, “I just don’t find her comfortable. At all. But she takes us from point A to point B, so that’s all that matters.” she assured him, pinching his cheek. Dean scoffed bitterly, slapping her hand away from his face as Sam and Y/N rolled with hysteria in their seats.

“Asshole” He scowled again, crossing his arms over his chest. “Prick” Jo bit back with a cheekily smile to her surrogate brother. Once the giggles died down and the banter was over, the group was once again silent, watching the house when out of nowhere, Santa, still in his red cap, but in a green tank top. Peered through his window and then closed his curtains.

“What’s up with Saint Nicotine?” Dean mumbled curiously. Y/N raised a brow at him, all switching into Hunter mode when a woman screamed, “Oh, my God!” The four jumped out of the car and rushed over with drawn guns to the man’s front door. Dean and Y/N both peeked into the door when they heard Sam scoff, “Huh?” They turned to him with curious faces, “What?” Dean asked in a low tone.

“Nothing. It’s just that, uh… well, you know, Mr. Gung Ho Christmas might have to blow away Santa.” Sam snickered to himself, Y/N pulled her lips into her mouth to stop herself from smiling while Jo shot her boyfriend a light glare and Dean had a blank look on his face. “Shut up, ass, and kick the door in” Jo ordered, looking at Sam for him to do as told. Sam rolled his eyes, but did so without question.

The four rush in to see Santa sitting on the couch, holding a giant bong and a bottle of whiskey. Their eyes peered around the scrappy house, now realizing Santa was only watching TV as he stumbled to his feet. They quickly hid their guns behind their back, “What the hell are you doing here?” Santa demanded, his tone slurred. “I’m really not interested, okay?” The man on the TV said. “Mistle my toe. Roast my chestnut. Egg my nog.” The woman on the TV insisted seductively.

Sam and Jo looked over at Dean and Y/N panicked, the couple sharing a nervous look. “Ah, w-” Sam stammered as Dean cleared his throat, bringing a closed fist to his mouth. “S-siiiiiilent niiiiight…” He sang badly, clearing his throat again. “Hoooolyyy niiiight” Dean glanced over at a bewildered Jo and Sam and Y/N, who were both smiling awkwardly. Santa began laughing, sitting down to enjoy the show as the other three hunters began singing along.

“All is well…” They mumbled the lyrics terribly, barely remembering the classic Christmas Carol. “…all is dry.” Santa slurred along drunkenly. “Round and round…da-da da da daaaa” With that, Sam gripped Jo by his wrist while Dean gripped Y/N by hers and quickly pulled them out of the house.

Once at the Impala, they all collapsed with laughter, holding on to their sides. “That was priceless” Jo guffawed, leaning against the car. “I could have gone the rest of my life without hearing you three sing” Sam chuckled. Dean tried to keep a hard face but he was amused by it, “We speak nothing of this” Sam, Jo and Y/N nodded, still letting out a chuckle that would pop up every few seconds.

____________________________________________

•December 22nd, 2007

The next morning, they got notification from police radio that there had been another attack and kidnapping at a family house. Y/N and Jo decided to be the ones to go in and check it out, leaving Sam and Dean back in their rooms to get some rest since they were tired and the two women got more rest the previous night. “So, that’s how your son described the attack? ‘Santa took daddy up the chimney’?” Y/N asked Mrs. Caldwell, both her and Jo strolling into her living room behind her.

The petite woman nodded timidly, crossing her hands over her chest, “That’s what he says, yes.” She responded shakily, wiping the bruise under her eye. “And where were you?” Y/N asked politely as Jo took notes on Sam’s notepad. “I was asleep and all of a sudden…” Mrs. Caldwell sniffed, tearing up and her voice cracking as she reminisced of the events from the night before, “I was being dragged out of bed, screaming.”

“Did you see the attacker?” Jo asked, trying to be as professional and sympathetic as possible. Mrs. Caldwell’s face scrunched up as she shook her head, “It was dark, and he hit me. He knocked me out.” The psychic nodded understandingly, “I’m sorry, I know this is hard” Y/N and Jo shared a concerned glance, the former placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find whoever did this.” Y/N promised, giving the woman an encouraging smile which she weakly returned.

Jo’s head tilted when she noticed something familiar sitting at the fireplace, clearing her throat awkwardly before asking, “Yeah… um, Mrs. Caldwell, where, where did you get that wreath above the fireplace?” Y/N looked around at the wreath, and blinked, a little puzzled. “Excuse me?” Mrs. Caldwell’s brows creased towards the younger hunter, taken back by the weird question. Y/N looked at Jo expectantly for an answer, the latter shrugging and smiling awkwardly, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Just curious”

-

“Wreaths, huh? Sure you didn’t want to ask her about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer.” Y/N relentlessly teased Jo with a smirk as they walked down the driveway and towards her bike, “Fuck off, slut” Jo groaned, hitting Y/N in the arm. “We’ve seen that wreath before, Y/N.” She added firmly. Y/N’s brows furrowed, “Where?” She asked as she picked up both the helmets from her Harley and handed one to Jo.

“The Walshes’. Yesterday.” Jo stated as if it was obvious. Y/N froze in her spot, her eyes widening in realization. “I know. I was just testing you.” She scoffed, waving it off as if she knew. “Uh huh. Sure you were” Jo scoffed, rolling her eyes as she climbed onto the bike. Y/N flipped her off, climbing on as well. She placed the helmet on her head, starting the bike with a twist of her key and revving it before the engine roared to life.

-

Now back in Dean and Y/N’s shared motel room, Jo held one bag with food and her other hand with a tray of drinks as Y/N shoved the key into the hole and twisted it, opening the door. There they found Dean at the table, chugging coffee and Sam on the phone with Bobby, pacing the room. “Are you sure? Alright, yeah. Check it out, and we’ll… I don’t know, call you back.” Sam’s voice could be heard as both women walked in.

“Bobby, huh? Find any lore?” Dean asked, setting the coffee pot down. Sam nodded, “He’s looking into it now. Said he’d call us back.” He answered. “Breakfast!” Jo announced as she gently placed the drinks down as well as the bag of food onto the table as Y/N pressed a kiss to Dean’s head. He chuckled softly, tilting his head up in time to catch Y/N’s lips with his own. Sam made a disgusted noise of protest, “Get a room.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “This is our room, dumbass” She bit back, receiving a poked out tongue from Sam in response. To which she snickered, “How’d it go, girls?” Sam asked as Jo padded over to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Pretty good…” Y/N began to explain, digging through the bag of food. Placing their respective boxes in-front of everyone’s chair. Sam listened intently while Dean stared at his food intently, digging in instantly.

The three ate while Sam called Bobby again and informed him about the similar wreaths the girls found out about. “Yeah, all right. Well, keep looking, would you? Thanks, Bobby.” Sam said once more, hanging up. “Well… we’re not dealing with the anti-Claus.” Sam began, making his way back to his seat. “What did Bobby say?” Y/N asked curiously through a mouthful of egg while Dean scarfed down his entire breakfast like he’s been starved.

“Uh, that we're morons. He also said that it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths.” Sam snorted as he reached below the table to pull out his laptop from his satchel. “Wow! Amazing.” Dean mumbled half-heartedly, sticking into a piece of bacon with his fork. Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “You have no idea what the hell meadowsweet is, do you?” She called him out.

Dean stopped mid-chew, glancing up, his fork pausing halfway. “Nope” He snorted, stuffing the bacon in his mouth. Sam and Jo chuckle amusedly, sharing a look as Y/N shook her head, peeling out a napkin from the bag and wiping some of the bacon grease from Dean’s mouth. “I swear, you eat like a two-year-old” She muttered, dabbing the corner of his lips.

“You love me.” He mumbled, smiling cheekily when she wiped away some more grease. Sam shook his head as he placed his laptop, opening it to begin researching the plant and eating his breakfast in between. “So get this-” Sam started, sipping his coffee. He placed the paper cup down beside Jo’s hand as he continued. “According to the lore. It’s pretty rare and it’s probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore.” He explained, “Pagan lore?” Jo asked, her brows furrowed as she licked her fork.

“Yeah. See, they used meadowsweet for human sacrifice. It was kind of like a… Chum for their gods. Gods were drawn to it and they’d stop by and snack on whatever was the nearest human.” He further explained, “Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?” Dean asked with a mouth full of bacon, Y/N pointed firmly at him to chew and swallow before he spoke. To which he smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “It's not as crazy as it sounds, Dean. I mean, pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan.” Sam pointed out.

Y/N and Jo nodded in agreement, “Christmas is Jesus’s birthday.” Dean stated, picking up his coffee. Y/N tilted her head in his direction, “No, Jesus’s birthday was probably in the fall. It was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the Church and renamed ‘Christmas’.” She informed him while Sam nodded along in agreement. “But I mean, the Yule log, the tree, even Santa’s red suit, that’s all remnants of pagan worship.” Sam added.

Dean looked genuinely baffled, “How do you know that? What are you gonna tell me next? Easter bunny’s Jewish?” He scoffed, stuffing his mouth with more bacon. Sam, Jo and Y/N shared amused looks as he asked, “So y’all think we’re dealing with a pagan God?” Sam nodded as he wiped his mouth, scrolling through some pictures of the possible Gods, “Yeah, probably Hold Nickar, God of the winter solstice.”

“And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths. What’s that about?” Jo asked, still confused. “Yeah, it’s pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying ‘Come kill us’.” Sam told her, chewing on his eggs. “Great.” Y/N murmured sarcastically, sipping her coffee. Sam shrugged, squinting his eyes as he read an article on the laptop. He leaned forward, “Huh… When you sacrifice to Hold Nickar, guess what he gives you in return.”

“Lap dances, hopefully.” Dean joked, wiggling his brows at an unamused Y/N while Jo snorted, the former shoving Dean playfully while the latter shook her head smiling. “Shut up, idiot. Let him finish.” Y/N playfully chastised him. “Mild weather.” Sam deadpanned, rolling his eyes. All of their heads shot up in realization, Dean leaned back in his chair to glance out the window. “Like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan.”

He pointed out, gesturing to the window with his thumb before licking the maple syrup off of it. “For instance.” Sam nodded in confirmation, “Do we know how to kill it yet?” Jo asked, “No, Bobby’s working on that right now.” Sam responded, shaking his head. He then turned the laptop to show Dean the article. The elder Winchester began scrolling through as Sam said, “We got to figure out where they’re selling those wreaths.”

Dean raised a brow at him, “You think they’re selling them on purpose? Feeding the victims to this thing?” Sam shrugged in return, “Let’s find out” he sighed. “Why don’t we go? You fellas can stay in and get some rest” Y/N suggested, nudging Jo. The brothers shared an uneasy look. Sam turned and looked at Y/N doubtfully, “You sure?” He asked, not comfortable with sending them off without them again.

“We’ll be fine, Sammy. Besides, what’s the big, bad pagan God gonna do to us in a wreath shop, huh?” Y/N chuckled, ruffling his hair playfully after she and Jo got up from the table and to get their jackets. Dean got up as well, placing his trash in the garbage while mumbling, “I don’t like this.” To which Y/N rolled her eyes as she slid on her leather jacket, “How bout this? We gather the intel and you guys can go and gank the bastard. Sound fair?.” Jo suggested as she slid on her Jean jacket, zipping it up and pulling her hair out from beneath the collar.

Both brothers shared an uncertain look but eventually they nodded in reluctance. Y/N grinned smugly, “That’s what I thought” Dean shook his head, amused as he approached her. He wrapped his around her waist and pulled her flush against his chest. “Be careful. Okay?” He said lowly, looking her in the eyes. “Quit acting like I’m some newbie hunter, Winchester” Y/N quipped, snaking her arms around his neck before pressing her lips to his.

Jo did the same, padding over to Sam, who was still sitting at the table with a look of reluctance. “We’ll be fine, baby. We can handle ourselves” She assured her boyfriend, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. Sam nodded, trying to mask his worry. Dean gave Y/N a squeeze and a final kiss before letting go and patting her on the butt. She playfully scowled, rolling her eyes at him before turning to Jo. “Ready?”

“Yup” Jo nodded. The women shared one last look with their guys before exiting the motel room. As Y/N stepped out, closing the door behind her. “Everything okay with them? They’re acting worried for no reason” Jo commented as she rubbed her hands together. Y/N shrugged in return, leading the way to her bike, “Y’know men and their protectiveness, the Winchesters are like that but times ten.”

Jo rolled her eyes, scoffing, “Don’t I know it. Sam worries over me all the time.” She chuckled, hopping onto the back of the bike. Y/N chuckled as well, fastening her helmet. “Dean does it with me as well. He constantly tried to act all macho but he’s a big, lovable softy that surprisingly likes being the small spoon” She agreed, kicking the stand up before swinging her leg over and starting her bike.

Quinn roared as she revved the engine, the sound slightly muffling Jo’s laughter to her statement. Jo smirked wide, “Sam’s the same way. The man’s built like a damn rock, but he’s a huge baby at heart.” She chuckled at the thought, adjusting the way she sat on the seat, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist. “Brothers indeed” Y/N snorted before easing onto the road.

-

Y/N parked Quinn outside The Cozy Crafts. They spent hours in the town, looking into the meadowsweet wreaths but no shop seemed to know of them. They were internally hoping that this was the one because all they wanted to do was get back to their motel rooms and cuddle with their guys. There were numerous Christmas wreaths on display, they both hopped off the bike, stretching their stiff limbs before walking towards the shop. They entered, bells above the door ringing, announcing their arrival.

The scent of pine and cinnamon greeted them from the numerous candles dispersed around the shop, a sweet melody of Deck The Halls playing quietly by the front desk. A kind looking, elderly man stood behind the register, greeting the two women, “Help you, ladies?” He asked in a friendly tone. “Uh, hope so. Uh…” Y/N responded in a friendly tone, trying to come up with a story on the spot. A small smirk played on her face as she began, “…we were playing Jenga over at the Walshes’ the other night, and, uh… well—” She pointed to Jo.

“—she hasn’t shut up since about this Christmas wreath, and… I don’t know, why don’t you tell him, sweetie?” She reached over, patting Jo on her ass. The younger hunter looked unamused, her lips pressed to a thin line, “Sure.” she deadpanned before turning to face the shopkeeper. “It was yummy.” The shopkeeper glanced between the two women unconvinced, the psychic shooting the man a nervous smile. Jo’s eyes widened so she immediately began playing along.

She gave a fake, but convincing whine, “Oh my God! You have nooo idea. It was gorgeous, I just need to get my hands on it.” She complimented, playing the role of a snobby, upper-class wife. Y/N stifled an amused chuckle at the way she spoke. “I sell a lot of wreaths, ladies” The shopkeeper narrowed his eyes at them, “Right, right, but- but you see, this one would have been really special. It had, uh, it had, uh, green leaves, um, white buds on it. It might have been made of, uh… meadowsweet?” Jo explained, going into full detail.

“Well, aren’t you a fussy one?” The shopkeeper commented. Jo’s face dropped as Y/N stifled a chuckle again, placing a hand over her mouth. “Oh she is” Y/N nodded along in agreement, allowing herself to laugh. Jo shot her sister a quick sharp glare before averting her gaze back to the shopkeeper, plastering a fake smile on. “Anyway, I know the one you’re talking about. I’m all out.” The shopkeeper informed them, Jo sighed in annoyance as Y/N’s face fell.

“Huh. Seems like this meadowsweet stuff’s pretty rare and expensive. Why make wreaths out of it?” Y/N began fishing for information from him through small talk.

“Beats me. I didn't make them.” He shrugged in response. She raised a brow, “Who did?” She asked, tilting her head. “Madge Carrigan, a local lady. She said the wreaths were so special, she gave them to me for free.” He replied. “She didn’t charge you?” Jo’s brows furrowed as she and Y/N shared a look.

“Nope” The shopkeeper shook his head. “Did you sell them for free?” Y/N asked with a smirk in her tone, “Hell no. It’s Christmas. People pay a buttload for this shit” He scoffed, answering honestly. Jo narrowed her eyes at the man as Y/N’s smirk widened, “That’s the spirit” The man chuckled before glancing towards a clock on the wall, “Listen, ladies, I'd love to chat but I have to close up shop.” Jo and Y/N nodded, thanking the man for his time.

He smiled in return and pulled off his apron, placing it down on the counter. “Maybe try the Carrigan house, she may still have some on hand.” The man suggested before waving farewell to them as he went to the back room. Jo shot a nervous look at Y/N, “Think the Carrigans got any of those wreaths?” Y/N shrugged, “Only one way to find out.”

“Man, I’m tired. We’ve been at this all day” Jo groaned as they walked back to the bike. “And I’m starving” She added, patting her stomach. Y/N chuckled, “Don’t be so dramatic” Jo rolled her eyes before climbing back on the bike, adjusting her helmet. “Why don’t we call it a day? Our boys can go over there tomorrow” Jo suggested. Y/N sighed, “Yeah, it’s getting late. Might as well. Plus, it’ll get them off our asses too.” She agreed, climbing on the bike and fastening her own helmet.

Just then, her phone started to ring. The guitar riff for Metallica’s Enter Sandman filling their ears. Y/N sighed, pulling out her cell phone from the pocket of her leather jacket. “Speak of the devils” She quipped before answering the phone, “Yes, charming?” She answered sweetly. Dean’s voice crackled through the speakers, “Hey, baby. Where are you?” He asked, the faint sounds of an old rock song could be heard in the background.

“On our way back, we figured out where they got the wreaths. Gonna get dinner and then tell you when we’re back” She responded. “No need for that, I ordered pizza for us. We’re just waiting for you two to get back to eat” He told her. Y/N perked up at the mention of pizza, “You’re a godsend, Winchester” She chuckled. “Course’ I am” Dean smirked, “Just get your fine ass back here.”

She could hear Sam groan in disgust in the background and the sound of shuffling, probably being Dean tossing a pillow at his little brother. “Shut up, bitch!” Dean’s voice yelled back. “I hope you ordered pineapple on mine,” She teased. It was now Dean’s turn to groan in disgust, “I did. Nasty ass Hawaiian bullshit.” He muttered begrudgingly. Y/N snickered, “Thank you sweetie. See you in a bit, I love you” She smiled. “Alright sweetheart, drive safe. I love you more.” With that, the line went dead.

-

The brothers’ heads perked up, hearing engine noises from outside. Dean’s head poked out from the window and saw Y/N’s bike pull to a stop outside their motel room. He turned to Sam, “Get the door.” He ordered, grabbing the three pizza boxes off the bed. Sam rolled his eyes, “I’m not your slave, you ass.” He muttered but opened the door none the less, greeting the two women.

Jo entered first, tiptoeing to press a kiss to Sam’s cheek while Y/N had her strolled in with her helmet propped on her hip. Y/N let out an exaggerated sigh, “I am starving” She said before placing her helmet on the table beside the door. She walked over to Dean, wrapping an arm around his waist, “Thanks for the food, babe.” She smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

-

They were all now around the table, Sam and Y/N were splitting a Hawaiian pizza while Dean and Jo were splitting a meatlovers, the four discussing the case. “How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would even cost?” Dean asked with a mouth full of pizza. “A couple hundred dollars, at least.” Sam answered as he sipped his water. “This lady’s giving them away for free? What do you think about that?” Y/N raised a brow as she wiped her mouth, lazily leaning back into her chair.

“Well, sounds pretty suspicious.” Jo muttered in agreement. Dean seemed to go deep into thought, glancing between his brother and girlfriend before saying. “Remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?” He asked with a nostalgic smile on his face. Sam and Y/N furrowed their brows at him, “You mean the one F/N stole from, like, a liquor store?” Sam tilted his head, “Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great.” Dean chuckled, glancing down at his pizza slice in his hands.

Jo smiled at the mention of the trio’s shared childhood memory, “That sounds…awesome” She agreed, Dean nodded in agreement. “It was. I lugged it around in my duffel for three Christmas’ till the old man tossed it. Said we shouldn’t get attached to material shit” He shook his head as he reminisced on the heartbreaking moment. Jo scoffed at this, shaking her head. She was kinda happy she never met the man or y/n’s dad. Never really hearing good things about the way they treated their kids.

Sam and Y/N shared a tired look as Dean stuffed his into his mouth again before saying, “I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it.” He suggested, still hoping they would be open to celebrating a Christmas this year. “All right. Dude… What’s going on with you?” Sam huffed tiredly, tossing his half eaten slice of pizza into the box, suddenly losing his appetite.

Dean shrugged, feigning ignorance, “What?” Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, “We mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want Christmas so bad?” Y/N asked, narrowing her eyes at him as she dusted off her hands. Dean groaned, “Why are you guys so against it? I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?” he asked, genuinely concerned but he played it off with a chuckle. “No, that has nothing to do with it.” Sam insisted.

“Then what? Why don’t you wanna celebrate it, huh?” Jo chimed in, her tone a bit solemn. Sam sighed, glancing at Y/N for a moment. “I-I mean, I-I just… I don’t get it. You haven’t talked about Christmas in years.” He told his brother and Y/N nodded in agreement. Dean’s face fell, recognizing his mistake. “Remember that Christmas 03, right after I left home? Dean, we hunted a succubus and you never even mentioned it once” Y/N reminded him.

Dean paused, remembering the memory. He swallowed hard, clearing his throat before responding. “Yeah, I remember.” He nodded, avoiding eye contact. “But this is my last year.” He reminded them. The room fell silent for a few seconds, Y/N forcefully tearing her eyes away from him to stop herself from becoming choked up. Sam did the same as Jo sighed heavily, “I know. That’s why I can’t.” He broke the silence.

Dean frowned at his brother’s words. “What do you mean?” He questioned, his voice breaking at the end. Y/N and Jo both kept their gazes averted. Sam sighed, fixing himself in his seat, “I mean I can’t just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything’s okay….when I know next Christmas you’ll be dead.” He said sadly, trying to keep his emotions at bay as his voice shook. Y/N and Jo’s stomachs churned at how right he was, this was exactly how Y/N felt too.

She was never big on Christmas to begin with, but the idea of her first Christmas with Dean as an official couple also being their last??? She couldn’t bear the thought, knowing if they made it one to remember, the memories would eat her alive if somehow….they couldn’t save him.

Dean’s expression was pained, his eyes glazing over briefly before he nodded and cleared his throat. “I can’t either..” Y/N agreed, her voice small as she kept her eyes on her hands. Jo nodded in understanding with a frown, her eyes remaining on the table. Sam’s shoulders slumped from the shared feeling of dread that filled the silent room.

_______________________________________________

Author’s Note: Remember loves that this is part one and part two will be linked HERE

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy

@hey-its-zoe @modiddys-blog @thvxr @tommysaxes @cookiemonstermusic258 @elite4cekalyma

@ladykitana90 @strawberrykiwisdogog @barnes70stark

Xoxo

[ibrowjo]

Into the mist of Mt. Rainier

elliothawkey

[ibrowjo]

You take care of your mom, okay? All right.

[ibrowjo]

this is a horror story

john winchester’s journal, alex irvine

[ibrowjo]

12 years of cas wasn't enough. he still had more to ≖_≖ at

[ibrowjo]

not now. mommys making a 0 note post

[ibrowjo]

I can picture so clearly... salmon dean on a case in some missing little kid's room and their tamagochi starts beeping and Dean's like wtf is this and Sam's like it's a tamagochi it's like a robot pet. You press the buttons to make it happy.

And Dean of course is like what's the point? That's lame. But then as it keeps beeping he pushes the buttons "just to get it to shut up" and then he stays focused on it as Sam's looking through the room as a comedy beat.

Then a few scenes later they're in the library and Dean's pocket starts beeping and Sam's like what was that. And Dean's all shifty. Sam goes did you take the tamagochi with you. And Dean goes. I thought it might help. Like maybe we could track the kid down with it. A spell or something. Sam voice it doesn't have any hair or blood on it, how would that help?? Dean. I don't know. Just an idea. Whatever. Help me figure out how to make it stop pooping.

Finally, their spell to save the kid needs a beloved animal to be sacrificed and they're like fuck we're locked up rn how are we going to find someone's family pet. And then there's a little digital chirp. And they look at each other. Dean voice, you think it'll work? Sam voice, worth a shot, right?. Dean pulls out the tamagochi and says "go on now, get", and adds it ceremonially to the spell-bowl. Yippee they save the day!

End of episode tag, the kid runs up and gifts Dean a little keychain in the shape of the tamagochi character they had, and he hangs it on the rearview mirror as a happy end :)

[ibrowjo]

i was made for lovin' you.

OR after years of unsaid emotions, supressed feelings and goddamn urges— you and dean finally confront the thing you'd both been avoiding: how there's so much you wanna do in the darkness. and you're gonna make all come true. tonight.

my masterlist

「 pairing 」 : dean winchester x fem ! reader

「 word count 」 : 5.6 k.

「 content / warnings 」 : MINORS LOOK AWAY !!!, lateish seasons (if you squint) dean winchester x reader's first time (not virgins though), unprotected (mostly) soft sex with feelings, feelings, feelings!, aka porn WITH plot!, p in v, handjob, dean being a munch ofc (this is canon. go argue with the wall.), swearing (obvi). please let me know if i missed anything!

𖤐 ────────────────────────

from the moment you first met dean winchester while working a case, you knew you wanted to fuck him.

which was a little strange, because you didn't think like that outright about too many men— not ones you knew in real life, anyway.

but here the stupid bastard was, with his annoyingly pretty face and those stupid, big, rough fightin' hands that could touch you everywhere, pull the prettiest sounds right from you—

oh, we're getting way too far ahead of ourselves. you shoved those thoughts away. come on, this was a freakin' case. lives were at stake.

and once the initial secret lust you had finally went away, you realized you were experiencing something much greater than some stupid crush on dean.

because the more hunted with him, you got to see not just the tough, hard-as-nails side of him— but you saw the other side.

his people side.

you got to see the way he interacted with every single person he encountered on a case, not resting until the threat was completely gone and ganked. and sometimes, when a case hit too close to home, he treated victims and affected family no less than his own fuckin' family.

and you knew from your own personal experience that he'd do just about damn near anything for the family he did have. saw the way he got all soft and sweet around kids— and after a good while, even around you.

and that's when you knew you were in trouble.

you'd known dean for years now. and nothing had ever come of you two except him being one of the greatest friends you'd ever had.

but god help you if you didn't want more.

and nothing like a quick fuck, either. no, you wanted to be there for everything— even on those deathly-quiet nights when dean's thoughts got too loud and the debilitating weight he was carrying all alone just got too heavy, you wanted to be the one keeping him afloat.

it was something dangerously close to love.

you tried to ignore it at first. push it down. and it did work-- for a while. until fucking dean started acting weird around you, too.

and now things were... complicated.

you didn't know exactly when things had shifted so much to the point that it almost became unbearable to even be in the same room as dean without either of you knowingly holding back just spilling your guts-- but god, it was worse than dying.

inevitably, one night, it all just snapped.

there was no dramatic fight, or screamed confessions from either of you. no, it happened late in the darkness, when you both were sharing a motel room.

which would have made you fond of all the times you guys had shared motel rooms in the past— you would've smiled at the thought of younger you trying to make the most out of the fact that you had to share a room with a fucking boy.

but dean was now much more of a man than ever before now.

thank god there's two separate beds, you initially thought.

now, though? there wasn't a need for two beds anymore.

because you still somehow ended up in dean's that was closest to the window.

in his lap.

and kissing him.

you were sure you were in just another one of your dreams or fantasies you conjured up to get off-- but you could feel dean's hands on you through your shirt, grasping at the fabric. so this had to be real-- but just for precaution, you roll your hips into dean's a little.

yeah. that sound he made when he grinds his hips up into your own was definitely real— and right in your mouth.

you knew you were probably moving too fast— but fuck if you cared. your hands sneak in between you both and trail downward on the front of dean's shirt, not stopping until you reach the hem— and your voice is a whisper against dean's kiss-swollen lips.

"arms up, de."

and dean obliges in a heartbeat, raising his arms up over his head immediately— and he's silently praising the fact he decided to just wear a t-shirt to bed.

you actually somehow had only seen dean shirtless once or twice over the years— the latest being last summer when the air conditioning in the bunker was broken, and you conveniently and hurriedly stated that you had to stay in your room the entire day—because it was so much more skin than you were used to seeing.

but now?

you're staring.

dean's looking at you looking at him— and if the motel room wasn't so dark, you could've sworn his face got a little pinker under your gaze.

but you don't dwell on that for too long. because your hands are itching to reach out and just touch— and the moment your fingers start to graze on dean's biceps first, his eyes flutter shut and he lets out a shaky exhale, fighting to keep himself under control.

because it's you that's touching him.

you're still touching him when you lean back and kiss his lips again— and dean is very aware of the fact that you still have your shirt on.

but you have to break the kiss after a while to get stupid air— and your hands are reluctantly taken off of dean's skin, much to his protest. but the words he was about to say die in his throat when he sees where your hands were going.

you grasp the hem of the oversized shirt you were wearing, tearing it over your head and discarding it in the same motion— all while you were silently thanking whatever had possessed you not to wear shorts to bed.

or a bra.

and now, dean thinks he might die.

it was his turn to stare, eyes raking and flicking over every inch of you as you're straddling his lap like he didn't know where to look first— and dean's just so in awe, he says what he was thinking out loud in a barely-audible.

"god, you're beautiful."

you can feel a blush burning your cheeks at dean's words-- and judging by the way his eyes widened ever so slightly when he uttered those words, you knew he meant it. you smile softly down at him, your voice just as quiet as his once was.

"you're not so bad, yourself.''

and that makes the corner of dean's lips turn up in a small, soft smirk. god, he loves you. and he's gonna show you that.

all night long.

dean starts with his hands, the rough callouses trailing up your thighs, hips, waist, stomach, tits, arms, back— fucking everywhere on your bare skin as he stares up at you.

but your hands move on dean, too— touching him everywhere you could reach before you go lower, your fingers grazing on the waistband of his boxers— but you look back up at him again, a silent question in your eyes.

dean looks confused for half a second— until he realizes you're asking for permission. then he nods, his heart feeling warmer than it was before.

you tear his boxers off in one fell swoop— and holy goddamn.

you stare— again. and dean's fighting the urge to roll you over onto the mattress and just taking you.

instead, he forces himself to stay still under you— because the urge to do that and see what you do next is stronger.

dean's smirking up at you. the damn idiot. and then he quietly murmurs out—

"your turn."

you'd almost forgotten you still had your underwear on— oh, but dean didn't forget. the speed at which you yank down the fabric and discard it somewhere in the motel room should be a world record.

you look back down at dean again when you get situated back on his lap— but he's not looking at you anymore.

no, the man gulps at the sight of your pussy being exposed to him— and it takes him a while to look back up at you, his voice low and rough.

"c'mere."

you obliged, one of your hands reaching down and grasping dean's own that had been resting on your thigh.

this was new. oh, so new. dean wasn't new to you by any means, and that familiarity, that bond was still there— but he was new in this sense. this was different.

this was real.

dean was a man who rarely ever got what he really wanted— so you wanted dean to get whatever he wanted out of what was about to happen between the two of you.

"tell me what you want, dean," your voice is a mere whisper. "tell me what you want me to do, and i'll do it."

dean really thinks you should be illegal. you're all he's ever wanted—and you're asking him what he wanted.

he doesn't answer right away— dean's eyes rake over your naked form in his lap, and he's got his hands resting on your thighs as he meets your gaze once more.

"touch me."

you knew what dean meant by that. dean knew what he meant by that. and you both were fully aware of the line you were about to cross. but you weren't even nervous. and neither was he.

so take your hands, reaching down and trailing a path on dean's lower torso before you take him all in your hands.

and dean thinks he might die.

again.

because you start stroking him slowly— you weren't an idiot, you knew if you went too fast at first, it would hurt dean like a motherfucker rather than feel good.

and you're just looking at him, reading his reactions, making sure that it feels good.

all dean can get out at first is your name. he had opened his mouth to say something, but that's all that came out in a broken groan. he's letting out these little broken noises of pleasure— and his head has to fall back on the shitty motel room’s headboard so he doesn't cum right there.

you keep your pace of your hand on dean's dick steady, only increasing the intensity after a few moments when you can tell he needed more— by the way he gripped onto your hip, his rough fingers curling into the meat of your skin— and by the way he was fighting back the moans that had been treating to escape his throat.

it was definitely embarrassing how close dean was to cumming already, he knew that. but he also knew it was because it was you who was bringing him there. not some quick fuck with a chick he'd met that night, or his own hand— no.

it was yours.

and that thought combined with the way you're still looking at him— in awe, like he's something out of a museum, gets him way closer to the edge you were guiding him to.

"i'm— fucking christ, jesus—"

your name along with the man upstairs' son had come out of dean's mouth in a desperate attempt to warn you that he was right there, all because of you.

"i gotcha, dean," you whisper, and your free hand not jerking him off reaches to cup the side of his face as his head's tilted up towards you.

"just let it happen."

and that does it for him.

dean cums hard, his hands clutching on your thigh and part of your hips with all he's got, gasping and groaning, letting little out broken moans the whole way down.

you just guide dean through it with your hand, watching him under you as his skin was all flushed and red now, hair sticking up everywhere (courtesy of your hands), his pupils blown out and half-lidded before shutting fully.

"y'okay?" you whisper, your eyes flicking over dean under you. his own eyes continued to be closed— and you take that time to grab a tissue from the nightstand, wiping your hand clean before looking back and giving dean your full attention.

your other hand was still on his face, your thumb grazing on his cheek now, and for a split second, you almost think dean must not have liked it, or you went too far, because he wasn't saying—

"holy shit."

the curse leaves dean's mouth as his eyes open— and all he can do is reach his free hand up that wasn't grasping yours between the two of you already and rest it on the one cupping his face.

you can't even open your softly smiling mouth to respond, because the next words are coming out of dean's mouth, his voice still raw and rough from the way you just broke him apart.

"you know what i wanna do right now?"

you tilt your head a little to the side, still looking down at dean below you with his back resting against the headboard as you so desperately wanted to know.

"what?"

dean's downright devilish smirk reappears— and his eyes flick down to your almost dripping pussy that was spread as you straddled his legs before looking back up at you, his voice still rough as ever.

"I wanna taste you."

and a strangled sound gets stuck in your throat at the mere thought of dean eating you out. maybe it was a little embarassing how breathless your voice sounded when you leaned just a fraction closer to him.

"then go ahead."

an actual growl escapes dean at that— and you don't need to tell the man twice. he's got you flipped over and pinning you down, your scorching back hitting the cold motel sheets before you can even blink. you stare up at him when he hovers over you, both hands on the sides of your head, holding him up— and he's just looking at you.

but dean doesn't stay like that for too long. his lips hit your neck immediately after he leans down enough— and he starts just attacking at your skin, nipping, biting, sucking— he draws a path all the way down, until he reaches your now sopping pussy.

dean changes his position when he does, spreading your slick inner thighs further apart and settling between your legs, wrapping a strong arm around the meat of your thighs.

but he hesitates for a brief moment. he likes eating out pussy, but did you enjoy it? his pussy-drunk eyes flick up to yours— and you're a sight all spread out for him, your back against the pillows and sitting up a little so you could watch.

"i ain't gonna be gentle. y'know that, right?"

you knew that dean had always been considerate of you, long before this night— for as long as you'd known him, for that matter. but hearing him tell you that he didn't want to be gentle made your gaze soften and a smile tug on your lips as you nodded in response.

"yeah, i know."

and in that moment, dean thinks he loves you.

well, in all actuality, dean knows he loves you— but seeing you all soft and just so goddamn pretty in the moonlight that's filtering in through the motel room window, he's well aware of the blessing that's before him.

dean gives you one last smile— softer this time. then he dives in, burying in his face and going at you full force, his tongue flat and working against your puffy, slick folds before letting out a groan that vibrates everything.

and dean was right.

he was not gentle about it.

your eyes threaten to flutter shut as dean's tounge works on you— but you force them to be half-lidded as you look down at the sight of dean eating you out like a starved man.

and he's looking right back at you as he does it.

your hand flies to grasp onto dean's that was still resting on your thigh as his mouth continues to attack you— and he gladly takes it in his, not faltering his pace once.

you couldn't help but bite down hard on your bottom lip, attempting to contain the moans and noises that were threatening to spill out of you— and dean isn’t having it.

“nuh uh, darlin’,” dean shakes his head between your thighs, talking right into your pussy between flicks of his tongue on your clit. “i wanna hear you— wanna hear how goddamn good i’m makin’ ya feel right now.”

and with that, your mouth drops open almost immediately. it's like a switch flipped in you— and the first moan you let out is his fuckin' name.

"dean..."

christ on a cross. dean had wanted to hear just anything come out of your pretty mouth, but his name being the first thing on the tip of your tongue does things to him.

dean's imagined you moaning his name countless times, of course, but nothing can compare to the real you right now— tits heaving, groaning and eyes fluttering a little each time he brushes on a few sensitive spots on your pussy with his tongue.

now, it's embarrassing how close you are to cumming on dean's tongue. and oh, he notices. he holds your bucking and writhing hips down with his free hand that's not grasping and holding onto yours—

and goes to fuckin' town.

"fuck— dean!" you think you're gonna pass out— because you could barely hear the sounds of dean slurping up your juices and sucking on your clit when you cum without warning, back arching off of the sheets and grinding into his tongue, your grip on his hand becoming almost bruising as the pleasure cascades over you in waves.

dean doesn't look away from you for a second as your pussy flutters on his tongue, moving his mouth slower once more to not let a drop of you go to waste, making sure you're completely spent, pulling soft groans and gasps from your lips.

your legs tremble and shake under the arm that dean had wrapped around your thigh— and he takes a second to just watch you in the post-orgasm state you're in.

"y'okay?" dean's voice is rough but soft at the same time, looking up at you from his position between your legs like you're the night sky itself.

you open your eyes again, lifting your head off of the pillows just enough to see dean's eyes looking right back at you— and oh, he's a sight, his lips, nose and chin absolutley covered in your slick— and his hair's even more messy than before now.

"yeah", you breathe out softly, managing a nod against the pillows. "yeah, i'm all good. c'mere, de."

dean sees the soft look in your eyes— and his own gaze melts as he obeys, lifting off of the mattress and out from between your legs to hover over you, your faces just inches apart again.

dean can't look away.

and he never wants to.

"you're goddamn gorgeous, y'know that?" dean murmurs as he looks down at your moonlit face.

at that, you reach your hand up in the distance between you two, cupping the side of dean's face— and his head immediately leans into your touch before you whisper back.

"and you're perfect, dean."

dean's chest tightens at that— and his gaze somehow softens even more. no one's ever called him perfect before, and he couldn't think of one person in his life who even believed that to be true.

but you were looking at dean like he was.

you notice dean's reaction immediately— it was hard not to with how close you were.

you meant those words you said to dean— because being perfect wasn't about having absolutely no flaws or weaknesses.

it was about knowing that, and still carrying on anyway.

and then it clicks. because you could talk all you wanted to dean.

or you could show him how perfect he was.

"lemme show you," you whisper before dean could even open his mouth to deny it. "let me show you how perfect you are, dean."

and those words are completely breaking down what little resistance dean had left. his eyes actually get a little misty as he’s looking down at you— because he can't believe you're here, telling him everything he's never heard before.

dean nods— and his voice is shaking with anticipation mixed with pure awe.

"yeah. yeah, okay."

and that's all you needed. you look at dean's face one last time before lifting your head to close the little distance between the both of you, kissing him with everything you had to give him.

you didn't kiss dean like before— that was in a state of pure lust, desire, and want. now, you're kissing him softer, slower, and with purpose.

and purpose was exactly what dean needed. he tries to keep himself upright and hovering over you, but the way you're kissing him has his arms trembling as you're literally melting him.

you only take my lips off of dean’s when the air he and you had been breathing through your noses wasn’t enough— and your thumb grazes on his cheek again as his forehead rests on top of yours, eyes fluttering a little as i whisper against his lips.

“lay down for me, de.”

you don't have to say it again. dean obliges in a heartbeat, lifting off of you and rolling onto his back in one fluid motion— and you follow behind, tossing your leg over his to straddle him once more

dean’s hands go to your hips once you’re straddling him, looking up at you now— he still looks a little wrecked from earlier, and his chest is rising and falling in a slower, steadier rhythm than before, like he’s trying to calm himself down.

but seeing your naked form straddling him like this once more is just making his heart start to thump against his chest— again.

your hands find dean’s own on your hips,your fingers trailing on his skin, grazing past his wrists and up his arms— you're not exactly slow, but you're also not very fast with it, either.

no, you take your time touching dean all over again, fingertips tracing over every scar and dent you could see and feel as you're straddling him. your eyes flick up to his face, meeting his gaze once more— but you just keep touching him.

"oh, look at you, de," your voice is an awed whisper while your hands move on dean’s chest, grazing on the anti-possession tattoo he had on his skin. "see? you’re perfect."

and dean can’t help the little shiver your touch brings him right now, even though he's literally just laying below you, half-propped up by the pillows like you once were. he just can’t help it, because you’ve always been able to get the best reactions out of him.

dean swallows hard as your hands continue their journey over his body— your fingertips roaming over his skin, tracing all the scars he’d earned, right across his chest and down to his stomach.

and his breath actually hitches when you touch his anti-possession tattoo again.

your fingers trace on dean’s tattoo, watching and loving his reactions to just your freakin' hands.

and your hands stay resting on dean’s chest, but a little closer to his shoulders, shifting closer to him in his lap, pressing the entirety of your bare body completely against his.

your voice is still a whisper when you talk again, searching his face as you ask him to do what you've always wanted to.

because you needed to show dean how much you wanted him.

"can i ride you, de?"

if dean was hard before, it's nothing compared to the way his dick almost hurts now, throbbing at the way you asked permission to ride him.

"god, yes" is what comes out from dean's clenched jaw, and his gaze is locked onto yours as his hands rest on your hips.

a soft smile tugs on your lips again, your gaze flicking down for a brief moment when you hear how strained dean’s voice was— and the sight of him hard for you sends a wave of heat that pools in your stomach, making you clench around nothing.

because you needed dean just as badly as he needed you.

your eyes flick back up to dean’s green ones. and you notice that neither of you are nervous for his to happen. this was dean, after all. you'd wanted him in the least friendly way possible for as long as you could remember— and now? it was actually going to come true.

you didn’t have to ask dean anything else, or even say something. he wanted all of you— and you were going to give it to him.

so that’s why you shift a little, reaching down and guiding yourself to sink onto dean, keeping his gaze while your hands are still on his shoulders.

a broken groan escapes dean when you start to lower yourself down on him— and his own body’s reaction to your walls sucking him in just makes him want you even more.

dean lets his gaze travel all across your face— and he’s still looking right into your eyes when he lets himself go completely slack underneath you, letting you take the lead.

your fingers dig a little into dean’s shoulder at the burning sensation of your pussy being stretched— and your breath hitches, hard. your head falls forward a little as you screw your eyes shut.

your mind had felt like it was going over a thousand miles per second, but when your legs finally hit dean's and your pussy hits the base of his dick, everything just... goes away.

and dean couldn’t keep himself completely still anymore. he actually growled a little when he felt you fully sink down on him, and the sound that left him when he feels your tightness around him was a little more primal-sounding than he’d like to admit right now.

"oh, fuck," he breathes out your name, "you’re tryna kill me."

you can only respond to dean’s words with a strangled noise as the burning sensation was becoming full-throttle now, your grip on dean’s shoulders a little tighter, your head still hung as you try to keep my breathing steady.

because you literally couldn’t move yet. it was still the best feeling you'd ever felt— but you had to get used to dean's dick being buried deep inside of you before you could actually start to move on top of him.

and the way you’re holding on to his shoulders right now and how you’re trying to hold back little noises is driving dean insane.

he’s gripping your hips so tight that it has to be almost painful, and his eyes are fixed on you, still watching you while he tries to stay still for you. but it was taking a hell of a lot of effort on his part.

dean's chest is rising and falling fast, and he can’t help it when he finally chokes out your name in a whisper, unable to keep it in anymore.

"move. please."

at dean’s plea, you flick your hips just a little to see if you were adjusted yet.

and oh, were you ever. your fingers finally release their death grip on dean’s shoulders, one of your hands finding and grasping one of his own that was on your hip— and you finally start to move on top of him, rocking your hips into his.

the groan that escapes dean is the deepest one yet, his hand clutching onto yours and his eyes shutting for a moment as he feels you moving, his free hand tightening on your hip again.

"oh, god," dean gasps out, "jesus—"

you let out a raggedy exhale mixed with a moan, attempting to stop your eyes from rolling back into your head as you continue to ride dean's dick. it was hard, but you managed to keep your eyes open and half-lidded and on him, wanting to see his face— and you grind your hips into his faster and harder.

seeing you like this was getting to be borderline unbearable for dean.

your tits are bouncing a little in dean's face, and you're just not letting up, and you're so tight and warm, and he just fuckin' loves you—

dean realizes he's gonna cum if you keep this up.

and the embarrassing part is you barely even started riding him.

so it’s a damn good thing he’s still got a shred of control over himself right now.

"je— s— slow it down for a sec, darlin'," dean manages to get out, gritting his teeth as his eyes screw shut. "please."

the moment those words leave dean’s mouth, you immediately do as he says— you don’t abruptly stop, instead gradually slowing your movements to allow for an easy transition.

your hand trails up from dean's shoulder to cup on the side of his face while your're still on top of him— your eyes then search his when you breathlessly whisper to him.

"you okay, de?"

dean opens his eyes when you ask him if he’s okay right now, knowing that was pure concern in your words. he’s taking a moment to let his body level out a bit, since you stopped like he asked you to. and when he does, he manages a nod once he’s able to somehow form words.

"yeah, 'm good, darlin’--" dean swallows and takes a big gulp of air. "just got a 'lil too close to the edge for a second there. don’t wanna blow it right now."

an exhale of relief you didn’t know you were holding in was let out at dean’s confirmation— and your thumb almost absentmindedly grazes on the skin of his cheek as your hand was still on the side of his face.

"oh," you also nod, gaze softening as you look down at dean under you still. his words make you feel warm inside, along with a little sense of pride, too— but you still had to confirm. "it doesn’t hurt, though, right?"

"doesn’t hurt,” dean responds immediately. and that’s a bit of a complete understatement, because being inside of you right now felt like heaven. his own hand comes up to where yours is, his fingers skimming over your skin as he smiles softly up at you once more. "just wanna be able to last a 'lil bit longer for you, 's all."

your eyebrows scrunch together at that, and your expression is almost goddamn melted at this point as you look down at dean. you weren't sure why those words impacted you so much, but your chest tightens with emotion before you speak again.

"oh, de," you literally whisper, your thumb still skimming back and forth on dean’s cheek. "y'know you don’t have to do that."

"yeah, i do," dean murmurs immediately in response, looking right into your eyes the whole time he talks. "i've wanted this— you for goddamn years. i'm not lettin' this end yet."

so you don't.

you nod, leaning in and pressing a kiss on dean's lips before you talk again.

"okay, de," you nod against his forehead. "just move me when you want to, alright?"

dean gratefully nods, too, appreciating your understanding. his hands find and hold your hips again—this time, with less of a death-grip. and after he takes a steadying breath, he starts to move you.

you just let dean work and grind your hips into his own, holding his shoulder and face with your hands, allowing him to take what he needed and set the pace.

after a while, though, dean lifts you up off his dick by your hi a few inches before setting you back down fully— starting to actually fuck you a little.

you'd been quiet for the most part so far— but once the head of dean's dick brushes against that spongy spot deep inside of you, a string of broken moans and gasps spill from your lips.

and that just spurs dean on.

you'd both waited long enough now. it's been years of stolen looks, suppressed jealousy, unspoken thoughts and feelings— and tonight, you're making it all come true in the darkness of the motel room.

thank god dean's hands had been guiding your hips— because you're starting to unravel faster than you can comprehend. and so is dean.

dean's fucking up into you now like he'll never be able to fuck you again— which you both know wasn't true. and after tonight, you know you'd happily sleep with dean's dick buried inside of your pussy.

it takes only a whimper falling from your lips for dean to know that you're close— and your hand flies down to one of his on your hips again. he gladly takes it, wanting to hold your hand when he cums inside of you—

wait. is he allowed to do that?

"y— oh," dean groans out your name— he has not been silent throughout this entire ordeal, either. broken noises of pleasure and little groans of your name escaped his lips whenever your walls clenched around him. "can i— god—"

you didn't have to ask what dean meant by that. you nod almost frantically as his hand are still gripping your hips, guiding your pussy up and down his dick— and you squeeze his other hand tighter, the one you were holding.

and only then does dean let himself go, again.

your orgasm comes at the same time dean's does— and you both arch into each other and trembling as your moans echo off the motel room's walls. dean's face buries between your tits and groans into the skin while he spills up into you, your juices mixing with his.

you both stay like that for a while, naked, sweating, slick and gasping for air for god knows how long— until dean's raw and breathless voice vibrating on your breasts breaks the silence.

"i think i was made for you."

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you now have four ( 4 ) new message from the author ! ↓

oh heyyy... are any of y'all still here LMFAOOOOOO but seriously, on a real note— if you have stayed to the very end: first, THANK YOU for reading! and second, if you enjoyed, please consider SHOWING ME THAT ( reblogs / comments / etc ) because this took me FOREVER to write, and i want to know if my efforts are worthwhile!

also i will NOT be apologizing for how long it is, because mera (@bluemerakis) taught me that longer fics (especially smut) are acceptable! so THERE!

OH i also used a very special headcanon from @figthoughts' mastermind brain for this one because mr. dean winchester holding your hand while he eats you out is very much and totally 100% canon for me as well. fig you match my freak like no other and i hope to one day write as good and absolutely filthily as you do HEHE smooches to you my pookie <3

my master taglist (so far): @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @ambiguous-avery @maddie0101 @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @sunsbaby @emeraldcrs @h8aaz @honeyryewhiskey @supernotnatural2005 @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @figthoughts @mostlymarvelgirl @amaris444 @kaz-2y5-spn @littlesoulshine + if i missed anyone OR if you want to be added/taken off, please let me know! <3

[ibrowjo]

Taylor swift album I think describes Sam, Dean and Cas best + album I think the actual character would like most

sometimes I remember I have free will. first prompt is serious, second one is a little bit more of a headcanon, goofy type deal lmaoooo

Sam

Describes the character: folklore. Sam is my tragic girlie. Sam is well-versed with heartbreak and repeated trauma (particularly the songs seven, this is me trying, and peace comes to mind when thinking of Sam for me).

So seven is about a friend suffering in an abusive household from a child's perspective ("and I've been meaning to tell you / I think your house is haunted / your dad is always mad and that must be why") and I can't help but think of kid Sam thinking that John might've been possessed by something supernatural when he found out his dad was a hunter to try and justify the anger ARGH!!!!!

this is me trying is obvious. Sam still tries his best to go through the motions of everyday life and hold himself together so he doesn't make others feel bad. He still tries to do good despite feeling like a failure.

okay and peace. PEACE (as long as danger's near / and it's just around the corner darling / cause it lives in me/ no, I could never give you peace // also, these lyrics: I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best / but the rain is always gonna come, if you're standing with me). Sam feels broken. Sam feels like he could never be good enough for anyone, but more than that, that everyone who gets close to him will end up getting hurt. He can quite literally NEVER give them peace.

What album Sam would like best: ALSO folklore. Okay hear me out, Sam didn't like Taylor at first. He hears her pop stuff and it's not really his thing. Then he listens to folklore and he does a deep dive on the meaning of the lyrics!! SAM APPRECIATES LYRICISM I JUST KNOW IT!!!!!! 🗣️🗣️ This man KNOWS about the love triangle story in the album!! This man cries when he listens to seven (me too king 😔)

Dean

Describes the character: Midnights. Shocker... I picked the insomniac alcoholic album. Okay, on a real note though, who is you're on your own kid for if not Dean Winchester??? Like that scene with Mary where she says he's not a kid anymore and he says "I never was." (I cannot be normal about that scene but that's a different post).

Dean is a codependent king. Anti-hero is an obvious song choice to describe him as well (I should not be left to my own devices / they come with prices and vices / I end up in crisis). We often get scenes of Dean alone where he's breaking down, punching mirrors or drinking. Despite Dean being codependent, he still doesn't really feel like he fits in anywhere (it's me, hi, I'm the problem it's me) <- like come on, is there a better way to describe how Dean feels about himself? The kind of tongue in cheek way that Taylor speaks about hating yourself in this song is also perfect for goofball, emotionally immature Dean Winchester.

This album just fits him perfectly cause Dean totally stays up late listening to music and just... thinking. Like idc, that's my head canon.

What album dean would like best: 1989. HEAR ME OUT!!! "but elle, that's THE pop album, dean doesn't even like pop!" NO! Dean canonically likes shake it off, like I just think Dean indulges in some pop (another head canon sue me) but like, this man has a renaissance later in life and becomes like a dadcore swiftie, but he totally really only appreciates the hits. He doesn't care about getting into her lesser known songs, he puts her on to vibe to some upbeat pop

Cas

What album describes him: Speak now. Okay, unlike the others I don't really have like specific songs/lyrics to back this up, it's all about vibe. So, speak now is like Taylor's coming of age album where she's out on her own and figuring things out. She wrote all the songs on the album herself and it's about her speaking her truth, right? Okay, so Cas' arc of like defying God and figuring out for himself what the world means and figuring out what he wants out of it is very reminiscent of speak now for me. He literally finds his voice and starts carving out his own path into the world, finding his own personality along the way. Like that's very just growing up coded, I think.

What album he'd like best: evermore. I really struggled with this one, but tbh I think Cas likes to whip out evermore when he's feeling depressed (which is a lot in the later seasons 😭). He's out here vibing to evermore (the song), champagne problems, happiness and Coney Island. He listens to Taylor for the first time and has the canon human experience of "oh shit, this song is about me" and he also finds it beautiful (and human) that Taylor's songs speak to him in that way

>> tagging some moots I know are swifties and spn fans cause I'm annoying I would love to hear your thoughts (if you want to share, no pressure tho lmao) and because I love yapping about this: @wchswift, @rositaslabyrinth, @xoswiftieprincess, @ohsc, @losers-clvb

(honourable tag for @studiogrimm810, I know you're not a swiftie but I thought you would appreciate the analysis anyway lmaoooo (especially Sam's part))