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#Castiel/reader
gilverrwrites · 8 months
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“If you will have me, I am yours.” 
Pairing: Human!Castiel/Fem!Reader (Season 9)
Reader has AFAB body parts & feminine pronouns' are used.
Plot: The reader is a retired hunter, who develops feeling for Cas after he moves in with her. After living in domestic bliss for a while, its only a matter of time before feelings are confessed, and sex is had.
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Please remember: to keep going, and keep growing.
Content: Rough/Kissing, blowjob, rough blowjob/face-fucking, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, dirty talk (Cas doesnt really have a filter) rough sex, swearing, accidental cuddling, intentional cuddling.
Rating: M/18+
Words: 3,377
Notice: The follow up: Takeout Tuesday is now available here.
Excerpt: You vaguely recall falling asleep around 40 minutes into a Capra film, but when and how you’d nestled yourself against your flatmate was a mystery. Despite your instinct to jerk away, you remain still when you feel his fingers brushing against your bare shoulder. Between the warmth of his skin on yours, and the soothing beat of his heart, you are soon lulled close to sleep once again. Until the sound of Cas’ low voice in your ear rouses you. “Are you awake?”  When you nod, he continues, “Is this okay?” You nod again, and quietly add, “This is wonderful.”
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Having Castiel around was pleasant, if a little surreal. You’d always considered him a friend, but it wasn’t the same. Previously you’d only really been around each other on the hunt. Or if Cas was involved, more like stopping an apocalypse. Your relationship had been entirely based on proximity, and necessity. There was never really time to bond beyond that. Until now. 
You’d decided to attempt retirement a while ago. You’d found a job and started subletting a decent apartment from a friend of a friend, on the preface that they could still crash on the couch when travelling across country. The hunting trade was a small world after all. 
In fact, your new landlord was exactly who you’d expected to see when someone came knocking on your door in the middle of the night. Not a tired, bloodied, and bruised Angel. Confused, you’d let him in, patched his wounds, cleaned him up, and let him sleep it off in your bed. After almost 48 hours of continuous sleep, he’d explained everything to you, thanked you for your hospitality, and told you he’d be out of your hair soon. You’d assertively informed him that the only place he would be going is from your bed, to your couch. 
From there you easily fell into a routine together, effortlessly bonded over shared experiences, old and new. It was nice, seeing his toothbrush next to yours, bringing home his favourite takeout every Tuesday. When he worked the early shift, he’d always make you a coffee before he left, on the late shifts he’d bring home a bottle of your favourite. He did the dishes, and you did the laundry. You were a secure little domestic team.
The surrealness came when you realised just how much you enjoyed it. You welled up with pride whenever he complimented something you’d cooked him from scratch. Starting your morning in his presence calmed any nerves, and on stressful days, coming home to dinner and a film with Cas was your respite. 
You were confused by the bitterness you felt when he called you one night to say he would be home late, citing a date with his boss, Nora. You were truly sad, but relieved when he informed you he had misread the invitation. That he was actually there to babysit. That’s when it hit you. Somewhere along the way, in between all the household chores, and the late-night Hulu binging, you’d fallen for him. 
You’d always thought he was hot, ever since he’d introduced himself as ‘Castiel, an Angel of the Lord’ all those years ago. However, you no longer needed to accidentally catch him leaving the shower, or bending under a table to feel flushed. Ever since the figurative penny dropped, all it took was a smile, or the brush of your chests in a tight hall to make you blush. 
Thoughts of Castiel and your myriad of complex feelings now plagued you, particularly as you lay in bed at night, knowing he was only feet away from you, just on the other side of your paper-thin walls. Paper-thin walls that did nothing to protect you from the sudden and deafeningly loud sound of the TV at 2AM. 
Not bothering to throw on bottoms, you stumble to your bedroom door in just a camisole and panties. The sight of Cas sitting on the couch, clad in nothing but boxers, desperately fiddling with the remote in an attempt to turn down the volume greeted you upon entry to the living room. 
Upon noticing you, Cas drops the remote and hastily reaches for his discarded comforter to cover himself with. In turn you rotated your entire body, averting your gaze in favour of the wall, primarily to respect his privacy, secondarily to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. 
“I’m so sorry!” You blurt.
“It’s okay.” He responds quietly. “I’m sorry for the noise. I couldn’t sleep, I didn’t mean to wake you.” 
“It’s okay.” You repeat back to him. “I was awake, I couldn’t sleep either. You just made me jump.” 
“You can look now.” He informs you. Hoping the dim light from the TV doesn’t reveal too much of the colour in your face, you spin back. He was now covered from the waist down, but you couldn’t help noticing his bare chest, particularly the definition between his pecs, and the sharpness of his collarbones.
“I guess I’ll leave you to it.” You say, trying to re-direct your eyes to any other part of the room. 
“Unless…” He gestures to the television. “Would you care to join me?” 
“Sure.” You answer hesitantly. You weren’t sleeping anyway, what was the worst that could happen?
Castiel smiles amiably at you before returning his attention to the remote. You linger in your spot as he begins flicking through the different apps. When he makes no effort to locate and put on trousers you slowly settle down next to him, careful to leave enough distance to prevent any accidental skin-on-skin contact. 
“So, what are we watching?” 
 ————-
You vaguely recall falling asleep around 40 minutes into a Capra film, but when and how you’d nestled yourself against your flatmate was a mystery. Despite your instinct to jerk away, you remain still when you feel his fingers brushing against your bare shoulder. Between the warmth of his skin on yours, and the soothing beat of his heart, you are soon lulled close to sleep once again. Until the sound of Cas’ low voice in your ear rouses you. “Are you awake?” 
When you nod, he continues, “Is this okay?”
You nod again, and quietly add, “This is wonderful.”
You can’t see his expression from your current position, but he exhales, and you think he sounds relieved. 
It could be the scarcity of sleep, a ‘mind after midnight’ mirage, but this is when it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, he could be interested in you too. Why else would be lying beneath you, half-naked and seemingly completely at ease? Doubtful that you’d ever have this courage again you tilt your head up to look at him and ask; “Do you ever think about us?”
“I do.” He responds, he looks perplexed, which admittedly was his default expression.
“Do you ever think about us, as more than this?” When he doesn’t immediately answer, you resume. “You know, like romantically? Or even intimately?” 
“I frequently think of you amorously.” He speaks tentatively, each word spoken very deliberately. “When Metatron took my grace from me, I never imagined that this was how my life would go. Of course, I never thought that my grace would be taken, or that I would live among humans as one of them in the first place.”
He seems to take a moment to compile his thoughts, sucking his bottom lip in concentration. You remain silent. Hoping he can’t feel the rapid thrum of your heart.
“I thought at first that I was broken. The fall, losing my wings was bad enough, but now, without my angelic abilities, I can’t do anything. Well, nothing of merit, at least where the needs of humankind are concerned.”
“That’s not true.” You interject, you move to sit up, to be at eye level with him, but due to your already precarious position, the only way to do so is by shifting a leg over his lap, thus straddling him.
“I know that now.” He says as he grips your wrists and brings them to his shoulders, offering you extra support. “Without meaning to overstep, or make you uncomfortable, but living with- existing beside you has been a far more fulfilling experience than most of the things I have accomplished in the many billions of years I have existed.
I have very little practice in the ways of human sexuality, and even less so with courtship. However, I would be honoured, and extremely happy if you would allow me to explore such things, with you.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“If you will have me, I am yours.” 
There's a tense moment of silence between you both in which neither of you dare to break eye contact before you surge to him. You instigate the kiss, but Cas is fast to take control, his arms pull your body to him, driving your lips to press hard against his. When he rocks his hips up, kneading his semi-hard cock against your clothed core, you gasp. Cas immediately slips his tongue between your lips. You can’t hold back the groan that escapes you. His mouth tastes like coffee and artificial grape. You savour the feel and aroma of his lips before pulling back momentarily. 
“Only if I can be yours too.” You finally respond before he’s on you again. You freely open up for him, allowing him to explore your mouth once more. His tongue eagerly swirls against yours, exploring every crevice. His hands drop to clutch your waist, holding you in place as he ruts against you from below. 
It was you who broke the kiss again, locking your eyes with him as you climb off his lap. 
“Let me take care of you.” You chime as you drop to your knees on the floor below him. Cas quickly follows, sitting up straight, and planting his legs on either side of you. The comforter banished to the other end of the sofa.  
“You… You look so beautiful like that. On your knees.” He smiles down at you and reaches out to cup your face, strong fingers gently brush along your jaw before his thumb extends up to your lips. You press a kiss to its pad before parting your lips and taking him in. His skin tastes clean, with a hint of salt, and something florally. 
“Let me suck your cock.” You state, voice muffled by the pressure on your tongue.
His cheeks are tinted pink. You’re unsure if it's from arousal or nerves but he stands to pull off his boxers and settles back down. You can’t help but lick your lips when his cock is revealed, it's long and already hard. 
You don’t waste any time, immediately situating your tongue on the underside of his shaft and running it from tip to hilt. You stop momentarily to plant a kiss on his balls, before running back up his length. When you look back up Cas is watching you intensely, brow furrowed, lids heavy, lips between his teeth. You smile before wrapping your mouth around his cock. Pausing only slightly when you feel Cas cup the back of your head. 
You inch yourself down his length slowly, getting a feel for him, his thickness, and how much you can take at once. When you feel his tip hit the back of your throat, you pull back, before bobbing back down. The sound of Castiel’s’ hitched breathing drives you until you’re relaxed enough to take him completely. His thickness stretches your throat, making your eyes water, his pubic hair tickles your nose, and the look of bliss on his face makes your pussy drip. 
After a few seconds, you come back up for air, but the relief in your lungs only lasts a second before you feel Cas’ fists tighten against your scalp. 
“You look even better with my cock in your mouth.” He grunts as he pushes you back down. “You feel so good.”
Unable to respond, you hum your affirmation, drool escaping the corners of your mouth. Cas moans his approval, eyes and head lolling back for a moment before he plants his other hand firmly on the back of your head, holding you in place as he shifts to the edge of the couch and begins bucking his hips into your mouth. 
You plant your hands around his calves to steady yourself, and keep them out of the way as he continues to use your mouth. His thrusts grow heavier, his moans raspier, as you fight your need for air. Your cunt growing hotter, wetter every second, while your throat closes, and your head grows dizzy from the lack of air.
When he finally lets you go, your lungs are burning. You lean back, unable to control the wild rise and fall of your chest as you pant for air. Your lips feel sore, swollen, but your pussy aches. 
“I’m sorry.” Cas reaches over to cradle your face, tentatively brushing the tears from your eyes. “Was that too much?” 
“No! No not at all.” You whisper between breaths. You reach out for his hand, and he takes it. His head tilts to one side as he looks down at you sceptically. You smile back as you guide him between your legs. You brush his fingers against your panties, encouraging him to feel the wetness soaking through the fabric.
“I did that? I made you this wet?” He asks. When you nod his mouth cracks into a smile.
Within seconds he drops to his knees before you, pulling you in for another hot, open-mouthed kiss. Your tongues meet in another fierce, uncontrolled kiss. You cry out into his mouth when you feel his fingers press firmly against your clit, rubbing you through the thin fabric of your underwear.
Without warning Cas clutches onto your panties and pulls until the elastic snaps. He releases the offending article and quickly returns to your wetness. He strokes your clit repeatedly, swallowing your moans, holding you to his chest to prevent you from involuntarily withering away.
You break your lips away from his just long enough to plead; “Fuck me Cas, please fuck me with your fingers.”
He doesn’t hesitate to do as asked, immediately delving two fingers into your pussy. Once situated inside, he massages them against your walls, feeling you out and making you sputter. You grip his shoulders for support, digging your nails into his skin as he starts to thrust in and out of you.
“Like this?” He questions, you’re not sure if he’s being coy, if he’s teasing. Or if he truly is curious. Either way, you’re too gone to really answer. You open your mouth but all that comes out are a series of strangled whimpers. The feel of his thumb returning to your clit, gently brushing just the right spot, pushes you to breaking point. 
“I’m- I – ahhh.” You cry, trying to warn him. When you jerk your head back there is resistance. Cas releases his hold on your back, to grips your head forward. You peek up at him through half-lidded eyes, Cas stares, his blue eyes bare down on you, unblinking. If you weren’t already cumming, that would have been enough. 
You lean into Castiel’s body as you come back down, limp, and incoherent. A low hum escapes you as Cas languidly removes his fingers from inside you and brings them to his lips. You watch lazily as he gives them a tentative sniff before placing them in his mouth. His face seems to melt, and he closes his eyes, visibly savouring the taste. 
When he’s done, he grins at you and ponders aloud; “I’m not sure which is better.”
Still unable to string two words together you watch him, waiting for him to continue.
“The way you look when you reach orgasm, or the way you taste.” 
Instantly your cheeks begin to burn, and heat pools between your legs again. Without a second thought you reach down, grabbing your cami by the hem and lifting it over your head, your entire body now exposed to Castiel. 
He’s on you again in an instant. His mouth latches to one of your nipples, rapidly but lightly his tongue darts over the sensitive nip. Both hands come up to cup each breast. His fingers pinch and roll at your other exposed nipple. When you feel his teeth grazing the sensitive skin you flinch, fisting your hands into his hair. 
“Cas, please!” You gasp.
“Please what?” He responds, speech distorted by his refusal to remove his mouth from your body. 
“Please take me to bed.” You whine, needlessly pulling at his hair to garner his attention. “Please Castiel, take me to bed-”
You’re interrupted by the jolt of your body being lifted. Cas continues his oral assault, kissing, sucking, nipping at your neck as he carries you back to your bed. He sits himself on the edge of your bed and positions you to straddle him once again. You pull his attention back from your neck, sinking your lips onto his as you guide him down, until he’s lying face up.
You lean back and he sucks in a breath as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock. You line him up at your entrance and he begins gradually rocking into you. You steadily sink down, the feel of his cock stretching you out making you shudder. Cas’s head rolls back, he bites his lip and grips your hips, barely fighting not to slam you down onto him.
When his cock is fully inside, you pull back up until only the tip remains inside before you drop back onto him.
With a loud moan, Cas engulfs your body with his own and flips you over. He holds you beneath him with the weight of his own body as he gives a few shallow, testing thrusts. Satisfied he begins building pace and force, until the sound of skin slapping against skin can be heard between ragged breaths and moans. You raise your lower body, trying to match his rhythm but his hands lock onto your hips and push them down, pinning you to the bed.
His lips are tight between his teeth, his brow furrowed, and his skin glows with a sheen of sweat. You can’t help but paw at his shoulders, bringing him down so you can plant kisses on his face and neck.
“Cas, fuck. Castiel that feels so good.” You praise.
In response, he catches your lips in a desperate kiss, all tongues and teeth and jumbled sounds that may once have been words. Your toes begin to curl, as your climax grows near. You lock your fingers in Castiel's hair, pulling his face away as you arch your back. Your eyes close tight as you chant his name.
“I love it when you moan my name.” He murmurs in your ear. He releases your hips, and grips your face, forcing it back up. Your eyes peek open as growls his next words. “Look at me, and don’t stop saying my name.”
At that, the tension in your cunt snaps. Your body jerks and your walls clench around him as you hit your climax. Castiel rides you through it, his strides slowing, but he continues fucking into you at a steady pace until he’s seemingly overcome by his own orgasm. His movements becoming laboured and erratic, he pants your name through gritted teeth as he spills his cum inside you.
You remain wrapped up in your position as you come down from your highs, the warmth of his breath tickles your neck, and your chests collide as you fight to catch your breath. Your mind races, trying to find the right thing to say next, not wanting to spoil your post-orgasm bliss. Eventually, you nudge his shoulder, and he moved away, allowing you to sit up. His cum seeps out of you as you do. Before you can make a move to clean it up Cas attains the tissues from your dresser and begins delicately wiping you down.
“Thank you.” You smile at him as he finishes and begins to clean himself up.
“I… ah.” He smiles back at you, still flushed from your activities. “I feel I should be the one thanking you.”
You laugh at the absurdity of his statement, especially after the performance he’d just given. Cas soon reciprocates your laughter. You stretch your arms out, inviting him back in for an embrace and he eagerly obliges, wrapping his arms around you and falling back against your mattress.
“Will you sleep in here, with me tonight?” Your eyes catch the clock on your bedside, and you note that it is almost sunrise. “Or, for the rest of the morning?”
He kisses your forehead and pulls you in close. “I would enjoy that very much.”
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Prompt: okay but cas would show up with a handful of weeds, with the roots and dirt still on the bottom, and give them to dean because 'it's the human tradition to bring flowers, right?' and dean would 'yeah. yeah cas that's right' because that is how they say i love you @deanspunchingbag
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Title: Surprise me
Pairing: Castiel x Reader (they/them)
Characters: Castiel, Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester,
Word Count: 1,254
Summary: What if you’re friends with Castiel and the Winchester brothers? Castiel, as an angel, obviously has issues with understanding body language and subtext, so you help him out now and then. One day after a case, you all go to a bar. For shits and giggles, you start teaching him about flirting. You’re not a great flirt, but you can read body language and explain it.
Thank Jack that Castiel doesn’t know you’ve been in love with him for a while. If only he would reciprocate your feelings, even a little.
Warnings: Alcohol, consensual licking of arms and neck (sort of)
A/N: This was the first idea I came up with for the prompt and it became self-indulgent. Hush. This is in second person POV.
What if you’re friends with Castiel and the Winchester brothers? Castiel, as an angel, obviously has issues with understanding body language and subtext, so you help him out now and then. One day after a case, you all go to a bar. For shits and giggles, you start teaching him about flirting. You’re not a great flirt, but you can read body language and explain it.
Dean, of course, interrupts you and explains to Castiel, for a couple hours, how to flirt with the ladies and men. You just giggle and chuckle at the stories he tells. It’s even funnier when Dean makes Castiel “practice” these “new moves” on him. Dean keeps at it, and finally the angel seems to be getting the hang of it.
Suddenly, Castiel gets up and goes to get everyone another round of beers, deciding to all get a shot of tequila, salt and lime. He sits back down next to you and distributes everything evenly. He tells you “The bartender said it could be a good tool to flirt with so I thought I’d try, but they didn’t explain how.”
Dean tells Cas to watch Sam and him. Sam and Dean eye each other in their silent communication, they salt and lemon their wrists and lick before shooting the tequila. You giggle when you see their faces.
The brothers aren’t big tequila people,they prefer whiskey or bourbon.
Castiel looks confused and says “That doesn’t seem very flirty.”
You giggle at them and tell Cas that “It isn’t. They’re chicken.”
Castiel then asks you to show him how to shoot the tequila flirtatiously. You know you’re a bit more than buzzed for this, and mumble “What the hell, why not?”
“Okay,” you begin. “I’ll show you. The idea is to make it as close to a body shot as you can, since putting your mouth on someone can be considered flirting if not a potential interest in sex.” You tell him step by step how to make a tequila shot flirty and sexy by taking the ladies wrist—you take Castiel’s wrist, in this case, and place a kiss on the sensitive area/spot inside before licking it.
You tell him how “Most people will laugh it off. That’s when you salt the wet area on their wrist so it sticks.” You salt his wrist and then grab the slice of lime, telling the blue-eyed man to open his mouth only a little. He looks confused, but does as instructed.
You notice Dean and Sam eyeing each other again and nod. They make some excuse to get up, and walk away as you continue teaching the angel.
You stick the lime in Castiel’s mouth to hold it. “The idea is to get a subtle kiss here. They’re going to come and bite the lime to get the juice, and you can either let them have the lime when they do, keep the lime so they only get the juice and you get the lip press, or if you wanna be a true sneak, spit out the lime and get the kiss you want instead.” You smirk at him, not telling him you’ve always been scared to do the latter.
Castiel quirks a brow at you and you have to stop the shiver that it causes, dominating you so easily.
He’d only have to do that brow at you and you’d probably do whatever he says. You can feel yourself beginning to get wet.
Ignoring it, you continue your lesson.
“So, you lick the salt, juice the lime and shoot the tequila, but this is the flirt…sexy way.”
He squints his eyes at you.
“You ready?”
He nods. “Yes.”
Still holding his wrist, you proceed to lick his wrist.
With his free hand, Castiel removes the lime and asks, “If this were you doing this to a man or woman, what would you do?”
“Me?” You ask. “For a guy I wanted to sleep with, I’d just ask him if he wants to go back to my place for sex. Men tend to like directness, from my experience. Women, though, I’d flirt with and tease. I’d probably do what I’m doing right now and make sure I was the one with the lime, so we could make out instead of shooting tequila.”
“You haven’t tried flirting with men?” Castiel inquires.
“I have, but I get nervous for some reason. I’ve taught many friends how to successfully flirt, but for some reason I end up acting like a fish or stuttering when I try to flirt with me.” You roll your eyes and shrug. “It’s easier to be friends with people I like than it is to actually…pursue,” you quietly confess to Castiel.
Castiel tilts his head, keeping his eyes on you for nearly a minute in silence. The silence isn’t awkward, but calming and companionable.
It is one of your favorite things about Castiel, you think to yourself. You can just sit together and do different things, but still feel like you’re engaged and doing something together…or maybe that is just you.
And then, he asks a really weird question: “How do you like to be flirted with?”
You furrow your brow at the question, initially confused, but then you think about it. You look down as you think, then say the first thing that comes to mind when you’ve gone on really good dates. “Be interested in me and actually listen to what I’m telling you. Tell me about you, your past, your history, experiences that I might be able to relate to, about your family and friends, your aspirations…”
Castiel’s head tilts the other way as his blue eyes continue to watch you.
“Be accepting of me and my truths, my authenticity. I may have been born female, but I am very good at taking care of myself. I’m choosing to be here with you when I could be elsewhere. Be satisfied I’m here with you.”
“You are,” agrees Castiel. “And others. You care very deeply about your found family, as you call us.” He uses air quotes and slightly smiles. He leans forward, getting your eye to look into his. He is mere centimeters from your face. “I’m very happy you came out here with me tonight. It makes me very happy to spend time with you.”
“Thanks, Cas,” you give him a small smile, feeling your cheeks heat up. Your brow furrows again. “Cas, are you flirting with me?”
He looks down at his wrist. You follow his gaze and see that you’re still holding it, but resting on the table now. He gives a sheepish smile and nods looking at your hand.
Your heart races as adrenaline pumps through you at this disclosure. You take a deep breath and exhale. Then, you rotate and slide your hand into his. “Okay.”
He looks at you, confused. “What do you do when they realize they’re flirting back?” Worried, Cas’ blue eyes search your face.
You grin at him. “How bout we get outta here, just the two of us?”
It takes him a few extra seconds to connect the dots and nod. “Yes, okay.”
He scoots out of the booth and you follow him, keeping his hand in yours. You look around for the brothers who are sitting at the bar, chatting.
You both walk outside, looking up through the light pollution to see the moon and brilliant Venus close by.
“Where to?” He queries.
“Surprise me, Angel.”
He bends down and plucks a daffodil that has broken through the asphalt parking lot. Castiel hands it to you. “For you.”
You smile and take it, putting it behind your right ear.
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natti-ice · 6 months
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18+ mdni
Me: “fuck, I need his cock”
Him: *is literally just words on tumblr*
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inlovewhithafairytale · 7 months
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POV: Dating Dean Winchester....
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ml080504 · 4 months
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somebody: what do you like about men twice your age?
me: where do i start?
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nabooberrie · 2 months
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This means dean sat his phone up, and ran back to pose 😭
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lokischickadee · 10 months
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Dean's face🤣🤣
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take-it-on-the-run · 3 months
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Not A Lot, Just Forever
Dean Winchester x Pregnant!Reader
After throwing up morning after morning, the reader discovers her illness isn't what she initially thought.
Word Count: 4.1k
Tags: Pregnancy, unexpected pregnancy, brief description of motel bathrooms, vomiting (repeated), self-blame, mention of reader's mother dying in childbirth, mention of childbirth related deaths, anxiety, brief loss of consciousness, Dean is a sweetheart and will make a great father.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Pregnant!Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel
@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! I'm not sure if I already sent you this request, or if I sent it to someone else (oops🤭) but could I request a Sam Winchester and/or Dean Winchester x reader (your choice which one of them, if not both sepperately) where he helps reader deal with morning sickness, though he only finds out she's pregnant on the third day in a row that he's with her while she throws up. Ty!!"
Read it on AO3!
A/N: Adrianne Lenker title. I really really loved this request! I feel like writing the pregnancy trope is a sort of hard task to do, so I hope I brought it justice. I love love loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you for the request @ghostlyaccurate, and I promise I'm trying my damnedest to work through my inbox <3. Every mistake here is completely and 100% my own and of my own doing. (P.S. can you guess how hard it was to find "aesthetic" pictures of a bathroom and pregnancy tests for the pictures for this fic?? I think the ones I found actually work pretty well! Another thing, what happened to the yellow text color? I use it to tag fluff fics, and it's gone :( ).
Dean Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist
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Your head hung over the foul toilet bowl of whatever motel you, Dean, and Sam were holed up in, and a rancid smell invaded your nose. In earnest, you didn’t have the slightest idea where you were. The past couple of hours had been filled with a slight fever and the constant need to use Dean as a pillow. Halfway through the drive between towns, you convinced him to switch out driving with Sam so he could join you in the back seat.
The worn tile of the bathroom floor offered you minimal comfort, and the fact you’re supposed to be up for a case in two hours made your stomach churn over again. Ditching your normal avoidance of motel bathrooms, you gripped the edge of the toilet and emptied your stomach again.
“Y/N?” Dean’s groggy voice called out from behind the door, “Are you okay in there sweetheart?”
You squeezed your eyes together, cursing yourself for being loud enough to wake him up. Sneaking out from his arms was a feat enough already, trying to suppress the sound of you losing your guts at four in the morning wasn’t going to happen; even in a perfect world.
“No,” you groaned as he softly opened the door, “I feel like shit De, and you know how much I hate throwing up. And how much I hate motel bathrooms.” You whined. Your hair was falling to the front of your face and you were cursing whoever decided a bathroom didn’t need a working air vent.
Dean hummed softly, pulling the hair back from your face and holding it with one hand as he sat behind you on the floor. He pressed his lips to the back of your head softly, and gently traced shapes on your collarbone as you laid back on him.
“Just breathe, I’ve got you if you need to go at it again.” He said softly, cradling you in his lap as you tried to breathe. He ran his hand through your hair as your breathing started to hiccup less, and eventually, he sat you on the closed toilet lid to get you water.
You felt ashamed to be keeping him up at this hour. Your phone clock read 5:13 AM, almost an hour past when you’d originally gotten up. He already doesn’t get enough sleep as is, and here you are sitting, waiting for him to get back like you aren’t able to take care of yourself.
“Here you go, drink slowly. Did you use the mouthwash I gave you?” He asked as he handed you his water bottle. He stood across from you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants. You nodded softly, gratefully gulping down the contents of the bottle.
The bags under his eyes were already enough to make you feel guilty. Hunters were used to running on minimal sleep, but with you around, he’d just gotten into the six-hour range. He rubbed his face, inhaling like he normally did when he was trying to make a decision. You didn’t want to go out for the case. You barely wanted to move your body to get back in bed and salvage what little sleep you could before life kicked you back into gear.
“Do you want to stay here while Sam and I talk to the family?” Dean asked as if he could read your mind.
I love you so damn much. You thought, bowing your head with a sigh of relief. You didn’t want to be the one to bring up staying in; neither of you ever wanted to admit you needed breaks, but if the other one was to bring it up, it made the process easier.
You nodded, pushing yourself to your feet as he opened the door for the two of you, “yeah, I think that’s best for all of us. Don’t need me puking in the victim’s bathroom as you guys ask your questions.” You tried to joke as you and Dean crawled back into bed, tucking yourself into his arms, and splaying your legs haphazardly on top of his.
The next morning wasn’t any better.
Sam and Dean had come home late from questioning the family, and you were barely aware of them unloading the Chinese food they brought for you. Dean sat with you against his chest, still half-dressed as an FBI agent, as you wolfed down the egg rolls he got. You found yourself starving when they offered you food, but now you regretted eating anything at all.
You found yourself hung over the toilet again, but thankfully only had to put up with one round of saying goodbye to your lunch. You were able to get yourself up and over to the sink, where you repeated Dean’s routine from the morning before.
You leaned against the counter in the small kitchen, Dean’s water bottle filled with tap water in your hand. You turned to dump the rest in the sink when the creak of a floorboard behind you had you spinning on your heel in record time.
“Jesus Christ, Dean. Why are you up?” You asked in a hushed tone, placing your hand over your racing chest.
“I could ask you the same thing,” He crossed the small room and came over to embrace you in his arms, “did you get sick again?” He asked innocently, but the combination of those words, and the pitiful shift of his eyes was enough to make you feel like a child. You were a grown woman, you knew damn well how to take care of yourself much before the Winchesters were in your life.
You huffed in annoyance, pulling back from Dean’s chest. You felt your face begin to heat up, and it felt like anything Dean could say had the chance to send you over the edge.
“Yes, I did. Right now, I feel like my body is too hot and too tight for my bones, and I also feel like anything you say is going to make me hit the roof. Even if it’s nice, I just don’t think my brain can take in any more words without wanting to jump ship.” You said you rubbed your temples. Things like this had happened occasionally in the past, and before Dean, you figured it was just because you were a rigid person. One night a particularly bad migraine had led to you yelling at him because he offered to get you some medicine. Instead of just leaving you to stew, like every other partner did, he simply asked you to explain what you were feeling. No judgment, no interruptions, and he’d do whatever you said would make you feel better in that moment.
Now, whenever you felt overwhelmed, he did the same. He’d swallow any sarcastic comment or solution to your problem and listen to you. No matter what was bothering you, at whatever hour of the day, he was at your side, doing what you asked of him without hesitation.
He just nodded, pressing his lips to your forehead before he led you back to the bed you two were sharing for the case. His body threw off heat like a bonfire, and your normally freezing hands were appreciative of that. In this moment, however, it felt like you were burning from the inside out.
You adjusted yourself between the sheet and the comforter, so the two of you could still touch without pressing your skin together. Dean waited for you to still before he made himself comfy, and he gently ran his fingers through the ends of your hair.
“Is this okay right now? Do you want me to leave you be?” He asked, in as soft of a voice as he could. You hummed, smiling at the tingling sensation running through you. Comfort, and a warmth that wasn’t burning to the touch, crawled up your back, and into your head. You tried to focus your eyes for a couple of seconds more, but without your control, they forcefully fluttered shut.
“Y/N.”
Sheet tangled between your limbs, and you could see the light through your closed eyes. Opening them, you find an unexpected sight. Instead of Dean, or Sam, standing at your bedside, the trench coat-clad angel you’d met five years ago.
“Cas,” you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, “what are you doing here? Where’s Sam and Dean?” You asked.
Cas sighed and sat at the end of your bed. He shot you a quick look, before focusing his eyes on the blank wall in front of him. He tapped his fingers on his legs, a habit he picked up from Sam.
“Dean called me and told me you were sick. I came in, and told him I’d try and cure whatever… ailment is afflicting you.”
You smiled at the way he spoke, and the fact Dean went out of his way to try and help you out, but there was something off about Castiel’s demeanor. You sat up and touched his arm to get his attention.
“Cas, what’s wrong? Did something happen that I should know about?” You asked softly.
“I think you’re pregnant, Y/N.” He looked at you, and there was a rift of guilt lingering in his eyes.
A course of confusion and shock coursed through your body before you felt a rotting pit settle at the bottom of your stomach.
“Why would you… think that, Cas?” You felt a tightness taking over your throat, rubbing your hand across your neck to try and loosen it.
“I can sense life forms. Human ones, at least. It was hard to tell with Sam and Dean here, but once they left I was able to confirm my suspicions.”
Your hand traveled to your lower abdomen before your mouth spat out a request without thinking.
“Pregnancy tests. Can you get me some, please? I just,” you ran your hand across your forehead quickly, “I want to confirm, using non-magical means.”
Cas nodded, “of course. I’m going to assume you don’t want me to let Dean know?”
You nodded your head before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Deep down, you knew Cas was right. You were late by a few days, but you’d chalked it up to the illness that’s kept you on the bench for this case. You didn’t usually react as poorly as you’ve been to an illness, even when you’d gotten a terrible case of Pneumonia.
Getting up from the bed, you walked into the bathroom as Castiel vanished to get you a couple tests. Looking to the mirror, you’re met with a form of you that was a little scary; purple, slightly-puffy eyes, smeared makeup that hadn’t been washed off from days before, and your skin was breaking out in places it hadn’t before.
Dean hadn’t said a word about it, but even someone as blissfully ignorant as him had to have noticed the way your face wasn’t looking like your own.
Dean.
You’d have to tell Dean you were pregnant, with his child. That you’re going to be parents.
What if he didn’t want to be a father at thirty-five?
Children weren’t one hundred percent out of the question, but they were longer down the line in hunters’ lives. If you were lucky enough to get out of the life unscathed and find someone who would want to settle down with, you’d likely be creeping into your mid-forties, at best. Mary had gotten lucky with John, but now they’d both been taken away by the thing they’d spent half of their marriage avoiding.
What if you weren’t ready to be a mother at thirty-four?
For you, it wasn’t the question of wanting to have kids, but you never saw you or your boyfriend backing out from hunting anytime soon. To add on, you’d heard of many nasty births that ended in fatality for the infant or the mother, including your own. Every time you and the boys were on a case involving a child, you’d be extra reckless. Dean picked this up within the first couple of times you’d almost gotten yourself killed to save a kid, and you explained your fear to him. The fear of a mother not being able to welcome her child home in her arms, or the child not seeing his mother again, and their fate lying in your hands. You’d already ripped apart your family, and you tried your damnedest to keep as many together as possible.
A ruffle of feathers and a sharp knock on the bathroom door snapped you out of your thoughts.
“You can come in, Cas.”
Wordlessly, the angel stepped into the small motel bathroom holding a plastic bag. He pulled out three different pregnancy tests and set them on the counter.
“The woman working there said I should get a couple just in case one doesn’t work like it should.” He said as you picked up the first test. “I’m telling the truth, but I understand you wanting to confirm this to yourself.”
I know Cas, you thought, but you didn’t say a word. Instead, you stared at him, waiting for him to leave the bathroom, but he had a blank look on his face and didn’t move a muscle.
“Cas, I’m going to need you to leave the bathroom for me to do this.”
“Oh, sorry. Of course. I forgot how ‘hands-on’ human tests can be. I apologize.” He said blatantly before stepping out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.
Fuck me.
That’s what got you into this in the first place, dumb ass.
After twenty disgustingly long minutes in the decrepit motel bathroom, you walked out holding four positive tests. Cas was sitting on Sam’s bed, staring out the window, but immediately stood up and crossed the room to you. You handed him the tests, and he placed them on the table between the two beds.
“How do you feel?” He asked. Another thing he picked up from his years on earth was the ability to know when to ask what questions.
You felt blank. Void of answers and solutions to the situation at hand. Whether or not to turn left, or right.
“I… don’t know what to do, Cas.” Your voice broke along with the tears you were holding back, and a sinking feeling of hopelessness began to dig its way through your head.
Neither you nor Dean are ready to be parents. What if Dean’s angry? He would never kick you out of the bunker. The bunker is the only real home any of you have had in a long time, but is it safe? Is the world safe enough to bring a baby into? A Winchester baby, who would no doubt be a target from birth. What if the baby doesn’t make it to full term? What if this baby kills you like you killed your own mother?
“Y/N,” Cas placed his hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to ask you to take a breath.” He drew his hand up and waited for you to inhale. Taking in a shuddered breath, you followed the flow of his hand, stopping your heart from running up your throat.
“Thank you.” You said, sitting down on your bed and grabbing the pregnancy tests off the nightstand. Two pluses, two double lines. You and Dean were careful and used a condom whenever you found extra time together, but somehow God decided that rubber wasn’t going to work as intended.
“I think I’m going to just lay here,” you tuck yourself under the bed sheets once more, the tests shoved into your pajama pants, “and wait for Dean and Sam to get home. I’ll get him out of this stuffy ass room and tell him in private. Sam shouldn’t have to witness if we- if we argue. I know it makes him feel awful.”
“That’s a smart plan. You need to take this one step at a time and do it carefully. I know Dean cares for you deeply, but if you need someone to support you, all you have to do is call for me.” Cas squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.
“Thank you, Cas.” You yawned, pulling your body further under the covers of the bed. Castiel smiled slightly, before turning away and disappearing with a familiar rush of wings flapping.
Your body was covered head to toe in sweat, and the bed sheet you wrapped around yourself was thrown onto the floor. No light entered the room, and the time on the alarm clock read 1:43. Your stomach churned in a familiar way, and as you got to your feet you finally noticed neither of the boys were in the room.
You clambered to the bathroom, phone in hand, trying to call Dean. One hand braced on the toilet, and the other tried to thumb down to his contact. There wasn’t any time to think about the fact you were carrying a baby inside of you, the baby whose father is missing in the middle of the night with no calls or messages.
They always call. You thought before you set your ringing phone on the floor to throw up for the first time that morning. The phone rang, the sound slowly driving you insane each time you redialed Dean’s number between dry heaving into the bowl.
Your hair was sticking to your forehead, poorly swept away and held back by a rubber band you found on the sink. The heat, the pain, and the fear of losing contact with the Winchester brothers combined with the reality of you being pregnant was finally built up enough to break the swarm of emotions you barely choked down when Cas was in the room earlier.
Eyes burning, you slumped against the sink cabinet and brought your phone to your ear as you called Dean once again. You let out a sob, tears rushing down your face and neck, leaving behind a slightly burning trail. Your breathing became uneven, the sound of your own heart drumming through your ears drowning out the ring of your phone. Letting your phone slip to the floor, you brought your knees to your chest and folded your arms as a nest for your forehead.
Neither of the boys called within the twenty minutes you were in the bathroom, your phone was now close to being dead, and no muscle in your body wanted to obey your brain telling them to move and do something. You weren’t a weak woman, you took the cards you were dealt and tried your best to win, but sometimes all you could do was fold.
“Y/N? Y/N?”
A hand pulled your face from your knees, and you could barely see with the light of the bathroom now on and blinding you. A warm hand rested against your cheek while another briefly touched your forehead.
“Help me get her up, Sammy,” your eyes fluttered closed and you felt two arms hook under both your arms, laying them over shoulders as your feet lightly dragged across the floor.
“I’ve never seen her this bad, Dean.” The voice you now recognized as Sam said. Your legs were swept up from under you and you were laid on the bed you’d crawled out of.
You felt the tests still pressing in your pockets, and you thanked whatever greater being was willing to listen. There was no way you wanted to Dean to discover that information on accident.
Dean.
The other voice was Dean.
You moron, who else would it be?
The bed next to you dipped down, and you felt a gentle hand tuck a few stray hairs behind one of your ears. The sweat covering you was sucking every inch of clothing to your skin, and all you wanted to do was peel either of the pair off.
“I thought Cas was going to come here and help her out,” you heard his voice straining as he spoke, and you felt your heart snap in two.
You moved your hand, as heavy as it felt, and squeezed the first part of him you touched.
“Sweetheart,” you could feel Dean’s breath as he hovered over you, “you’re scaring me here.”
“Cas…” you gave out a heavy cough, “he came. He helped me figure out what’s been happening.”
A glass of water was brought to your mouth, and you took every drop of it. After swallowing the cup, your eyes finally were able to open. You were greeted by a worried Dean hovering very close to you, and a worried Sam crossing back from the kitchen holding Dean’s water bottle.
Sam set the bottle on the bedside table and sat on his bed, facing you and Dean. Dean’s attention was solely on you. His hands grabbed both sides of your face and brought his lips to your forehead, before resting against it.
“Hey,” you said, chuckling slightly, “I didn’t mean to scare you, De. You, or Sam.” You sat yourself up in bed.
“Did Cas tell you what’s wrong?” Sam asked, looking at you expectantly.
“He did, but… is it okay if I talk to Dean? Alone?” You asked softly.
Sam shot Dean a look, which Dean promptly returned with one that had Sam standing up, and walking into the hall.
Orange rays of light shone from the window of the room, and you could just barely see the sun climbing on the horizon. Dean moved to hold you in bed while you gained the composure to tell him you were both parents.
“Dean…” you breathed steadily, trying to even your heartbeat that was ramping up once more, “I have to tell you something-”
“I kinda gathered as much sweetheart,” he said lightly, lines forming around his forest-lorn eyes beautifully.
“- it’s important. I mean, it’s going to change our lives, for the rest of our lives.”
Dean’s face became more serious, pulling you to face him as he crossed his legs.
“You know you can tell me anything, Y/N.”
Do it, now. Just say-
“I’m pregnant.”
The air hung heavy around the pair of you as you handed him the tests in your pocket, and you could see the clocks turn in Dean’s mind as he stared down at them.
“But we used a rubber?” He said, and you could guess where his thoughts were wandering.
“We did, but you’re the only person I’ve been with for years, Dean, I need you to believe me when I say that.” You said reassuringly as you could without sounding like you were lying.
His face broke into a small smile, and he brought his thumb to trace over your lower cheek, “I know, sweetheart. I trust you with my heart, I just know not to use that brand anymore, seems like their effectiveness is questionable.”
You laughed, tears drying in your eyes as you pushed at him playfully, “Dean! You gave me a heart attack, you son of a bitch!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay!” He laughed, capturing you in a giant bear hug and rolling you on top of him. You looked down at him and brought your lips down to his.
“You’re going to be a father,” you said, beaming at him while smiling the hardest you’d ever in the longest time
“You’re going to be a mother,” he replied, smiling just as hard. Your face fell slightly, and the word mother finally kicked into your head. “Hey,” Dean said as he saw your face shift, somehow remembering the story you told him all those years ago, “Remember, we’ve got an angel on speed dial, and you know how hard it is to take out a Winchester.”
Your heart warmed at the statement, the baby inside of you was just as much L/N as it was Winchester. You loved Dean with your heart, as did he love you, and now the two of you were going to brace the dangerous world you’d spent years protecting with the amalgamation of that love.
You brought Dean’s hand to your stomach as he brought his other hand to your face. His calloused fingers were gentle on your skin, and small crinkles formed around his eyes as he smiled, holding his hand at your stomach as you gazed back at him.
A knock sounded at the door, making you turn your head around before you and Dean burst into laughter, and told Sam he could come back in the room to tell him the news.
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spn-incorrect-quotes · 11 months
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Dean: You were stabbed. Do you remember anything?
Y/n: Only the ambulance ride to the hospital.
Dean: That wasn't an ambulance, I drove you.
Y/n: But I heard a siren.
Castiel: That was Sam.
Sam: Sorry, I got nervous.
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corinthianism · 11 months
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corinthianism's fic recs
here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut
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last updated: march 26, 2024
MARVEL
loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)
thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor
peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) — by webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)
steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)
marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)
wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)
SHERLOCK (BBC)
sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero
SUPERNATURAL
sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut
dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics
castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)
THE SANDMAN
the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics
dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare
CRIMINAL MINDS
aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)
THE BOYS
soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies
homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch
GAME OF THRONES
jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)
STAR WARS
obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right?* (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)
din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika
DRACULA (BBC)
count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier
LOTR/THE HOBBIT
thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)
DOCTOR SLEEP
dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg
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gilverrwrites · 9 months
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Human Castiel/Reader
Pairing: Human Cas/F!Reader
Below the cut is a 248 word excerpt of a Human Cas/Reader fic I'm working on. (Unedited and not proofread.)
Content: Kissing, swearing, vaginal fingering.
Rating: M/18+
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I hope: You get everything you want.
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“I did that? I made you this wet?” He asks. When you nod his mouth cracks into a smile.
Within seconds he drops to his knees before you, pulling you in for another hot, open-mouthed kiss. Your tongues meet in another fierce, uncontrolled kiss. You cry out into his mouth when you feel his fingers press firmly against your clit, rubbing you through the thin fabric of your underwear.
Without warning Cas clutches onto your panties and pulls until the elastic snaps. He releases the offending article and quickly returns to your wetness. He strokes your clit repeatedly, swallowing your moans, holding you to his chest to prevent you from involuntarily withering away.
You break your lips away from his just long enough to plead; “Fuck me Cas, please fuck me with your fingers.”
He doesn’t hesitate to do as asked, immediately delving two fingers into your pussy. Once situated inside, he massages them against your walls, feeling you out and making you sputter. You grip his shoulders for support, digging your nails through his shirt as he starts to thrust in and out of you.
“Like this?” He questions, you’re not sure if he’s being coy, if he’s teasing. Or if he truly is curious. Either way you’re too gone to really answer. Your open your mouth but all that comes out are a series of strangled whimpers. The feel of his thumb returning to your clit, gently brushing just the right spot, you hit breaking point.
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Castiel Masterlist
This is Castiel only.
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5sospenguinqueen · 4 months
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Dean: It’s over. We won.
(Behind him, the monster slowly stands back up)
Sam:
Castiel:
Y/N: Dean…
Dean: No. We won. I’m not turning around to look at it. We won.
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natti-ice · 2 months
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in another universe, your favorite characters are reading fanfic about you. Feel special.
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deantavias · 1 year
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i know "gn!reader" means gender neutral, but, my brain always short-circuits to goodnight reader!
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ml080504 · 4 months
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"bestie we are having you put down" I say as i look in the mirror and realize i spent 5 hours reading smut
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