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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 month ago

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The far right grows through “disaster fantasies”

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/25/mall-ninja-prophecy/#mano-a-mano">https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/25/mall-ninja-prophecy/#mano-a-mano

The core of the prepper fantasy: "What if the world ended in the precise way that made me the most important person?" The ultra-rich fantasize about emerging from luxury bunkers with an army of mercs and thumbdrives full of bitcoin to a world in ruins that they restructure using their "leadership skills."

The ethnographer Rich Miller spent his career embedding with preppers, eventually writing the canonical book of the fantasies that power their obsessions, Dancing at Armageddon: Survivalism and Chaos in Modern Times:

https://www.press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/D/bo3637295.html

Miller recounts how the disasters that preppers prepare for are the disasters that will call upon their skills, like the water chemist who's devoted his life to preparing to help his community recover from a terrorist attack on its water supply; and who, when pressed, has no theory as to why any terrorist would stage such an attack:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/22/preppers-are-larpers/#preppers-unprepared

Prepping is what happens when you are consumed by the fantasy of a terrible omnicrisis that you can solve, personally. It's an individualistic fantasy, and that makes it inherently neoliberal. Neoliberalism's mind-zap is to convince us all that our only role in society is as an individual ("There is no such thing as society" – M. Thatcher). If we have a workplace problem, we must bargain with our bosses, and if we lose, our choices are to quit or eat shit. Under no circumstances should we solve labor disputes through a union, especially not one that wins strong legal protections for workers and then holds the government's feet to the fire.

Same with bad corporate conduct: getting ripped off? Caveat emptor! Vote with your wallet and take your business elsewhere. Elections are slow and politics are boring. But "vote with your wallet" turns retail therapy into a form of civics.

This individualistic approach to problem solving does useful work for powerful people, because it keeps the rest of us thoroughly powerless. Voting with your wallet is casting a ballot in a rigged election that's always won by the people with the thickest wallets, and statistically, that's never you. That's why the right is so obsessed with removing barriers to election spending: the wealthy can't win a one-person/one-vote election (to be in the 1% is to be outnumbered 99:1), but unlimited campaign spending lets the wealthy vote in real elections using their wallets, not just just ballots.

You can't recycle your way out of the climate emergency. Practically speaking, you can't even recycle. All those plastics you lovingly washed and sorted ended up in a landfill or floating in the ocean. Plastics recycling is a hoax perpetrated by the petrochemical industry, who knew all along that their products would never be recycled. These despoilers convinced us to view the systemic rot of corporate ecocide as an individual matter, chiding us about "littering" and exhorting us to sort our garbage:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/14/they-knew/#doing-it-again

We are bombarded by real problems that require urgent solutions that can only be resolved through collective action, which we are told is impossible. This is an objectively frightening state of affairs, and it makes people go nuts.

At the start of this century, in the weeks before 9/11, a message-board poster calling himself Gecko45 went Web 1.0 viral by earnestly bullshitting about his job as a mall security guard, doing battle with heavily armed gangs, human traffickers, and ravening monsters. Gecko45's posts were unhinged: he started out seeking advice for doubling up on body-armor to protect him while he deployed his smoke bombs and his partner assembled a high-powered rifle. Though Gecko45 was apparently sincere, he drew tongue-in-cheek replies from the other posters on GlockTalk, who soon dubbed him the "Mall Ninja":

https://lonelymachines.org/mall-ninjas/

The Mall Ninja professed to patrolling a suburban shopping mall while armed with 15 firearms as he carried out his duties as "Sergeant of a three-man Rapid Tactical Force at one of America’s largest indoor retail shopping areas." His qualifications? Mastery "of three martial arts including ninjitsu, which means I can wear the special boots to climb walls."

The Mall Ninja's fantasy of a single brave individual, defending the sleepy populace from violent, armed mobs is instantly recognizable as an ancestor to today's right wing fantasy of America's cities as "no-go zones" filled with "open air drug markets," patrolled by MS-13 and antifa super-soldiers. And while the Mall Ninja drew derision – even from the kinds of people who hang out on a message board called "GlockTalk" – today, his brand of fantasy wins elections.

On Jacobin, Olly Haynes interviews the political writer Richard Seymour about this phenomenon:

https://jacobin.com/2024/11/disaster-nationalism-fantasies-far-right/

Seymour's latest book is Disaster Nationalism:The Downfall of Liberal Civilization, an exploration of the strange obsessions of the right with imaginary disasters in the midst of real ones:

https://www.versobooks.com/en-gb/products/3147-disaster-nationalism

You know these imaginary disasters: "FEMA death camps, 'great replacement theory,' the 'Great Reset,' fifteen-minute cities, 5G towers being beacons of mind control, and microchips installed in people through vaccines." As Seymour writes, these conspiracy fantasies are proliferated by authoritarian regimes and their supporters, especially as real disasters rage around them.

For example, during the Oregon wildfires, people who were threatened by blazing forests that hit 800'C refused to evacuate because they'd been convinced that the fires were set by antifa arsonists in a bid to "wipe out white conservative Christians." They barricaded themselves in their fire-threatened homes, brandishing guns and prepping for the antifa mob.

Seymour says that this "disaster nationalism" "processes disaster in a way that is actually quite enlivening." Confronted with the helplessness of a real disaster that can only be solved through the collective action you've been told is both impossible and a Communist plot, you retreat to an individualistic disaster fantasy that you can play an outsized role in. Every crisis – the climate emergency, poverty, a toxic environment – is replaced by "bad people" and you can go get them.

For authoritarian politicians, a world of bad people at the gates who can only be stopped by "the good guys" makes for great politics. It impels proto-fascist movements to electoral victories, all over the world: in the US, of course, but Seymour also analyzes this as the phenomenon behind the electoral victories of authoritarian ethno-nationalists in India, Israel, Brazil, and all over the world.

I find Seymour's analysis bracing and clarifying. It explains the right's tendency to obsess over the imaginary at the expense of the real. Think of conservatives' obsession with imaginary and hypothetical children, from Qanon's child trafficking conspiracies to the forced birth movement's fixation on "the unborn."

It's not just that these kids don't exist – it's that the right is either indifferent or actively hostile to real children. Qanon peaked at the same time as Trump's "kids in cages" family separation policy, which saw thousands of kids separated from their parents, many forever, as a deliberate policy.

The forced birth movement spent decades fighting to overturn Roe in the name of saving "the unborn" – even as its leaders were also overturning the Child Tax Credit, the most successful child poverty alleviation measure in American history. Actual children were left to sink into food insecurity and precarity, to be enlisted to work overnight shifts in meat-packing plants, to fall into homelessness – even as the movement celebrated the "culture of life" that would rescue hypothetical children.

Lifting kids out of poverty and building a world where parents can afford to raise as many children as they care to have is a collective endeavor. Firebombing abortion clinics or storming into a pizza parlor with an assault rifle is an individual rescue fantasy that escapes into the world.

Mall Ninja politics are winning.

#pluralistic #disaster nationalism #preppers #conspiracy fantasy #conspiracy theories #conspiratorialism #masque of the red death #american carnage #Richard Seymour #jacobin #Olly Haynes

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ohsc · 5 months ago

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₊˚⊹♡ mean | sam winchester x reader

requested - heyy could u make a sam x reader thing where he fucks rlly roughly but he’s really sweet during aftercare bc the idea that sam is rough during but sweet after makes me weak in the knees🫠🙏 (anon)

a/n - this is. probably the most filthy thing i’ve written. it’s just filthy smut. with a hint of sweetheart sam at the end. i need him so bad it’s not funny. still working on my longer plot fics but i wanted to get this out today to get back into writing!! hopefully you enjoy :) would very much appreciate feedback! <3

cws - fem!reader, 2.4k, nsfw 18+, meandom!sam turned soft!sam, oral f!recieving, praise, very mild choking, condescending words, p in v, mild overstimulation, tears, aftercare, fluff

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

She was convinced that Sam’s mouth was a whole new kind of heaven.

He’d already made her cum once with his mouth alone, large hands pressed into the plush of her thighs to keep them spread, her hips stilled, which were twitching with every sweep of his tongue. He was skilled, drawing the pleasure out of her like it was nothing. Sam had easily spent fifteen minutes down there, eating her out like a starved man, like it was all he wanted.

And she didn’t know how she was still breathing. There was a relief that ran through her that Dean and Castiel weren’t in the bunker that night, because even though they were shut away in the privacy of their room, she was sure that she would’ve been heard. Sam had been pulling noises out of her all night, obscene lewd sounds that she would’ve been embarrassed about being heard if it wasn’t Sam with her.

He always made sure that as much as he made her feel, none of it was embarrassment.

His tongue flattened against her, licking a stripe up between her folds until he pressed against her clit and she shuddered, a horribly whiny sound pushed from her lungs when he closed his lips around the bead and sucked, like he was trying to pull the life out of her. Her hips jolted, unable to go anywhere as he had her pinned down, and she was practically seeing stars as Sam worked down there. She wondered if he was even breathing.

“Sam- oh my god—” She whimpered, hissed in a breath when he licked back down to her entrance and his nose nudged against her clit, stomach clenching as she reached her hands down to grasp onto his hair, fingers curled into the soft strands.

And then he pulled away.

His hands left her thighs as his mouth left her, but she didn’t have time to whine her complaints at the loss of sensation as his long fingers curled around her wrists, yanked her hands out of his hair. “What did I say, huh?” The tone of voice made her pussy clench around nothing. “Hands to yourself. You’re pretty bad at listening, baby.”

Sam shifted over her, his face over hers as he pushed her wrists down onto the pillows above her head, and she almost squirmed when she saw the look in his eyes, the way his lips were wet with her.

“Are you listening?” He squeezed her wrists as a reminder, and her eyes quickly flickered back up to his eyes. “Do I need to tie you up, or will you keep these here for me?” She knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do it. Sam could be such a soft lover — he’d kiss every inch of her skin, whisper praises and compliments, tell her he loved her a thousand times as he made love to her. But he could also be like this, mean and demanding as he fucked her silly over and over. She wasn’t sure which she liked more.

“I’ll keep them there.” She breathed out, her voice still a little too whiny. He’d gotten her so close to cumming again, the lack of stimulation was driving her crazy, her cunt throbbed as she stared up at him.

“Oh yeah?” Sam narrowed his eyes like he didn’t believe her, and let go of one of her wrists to take both into one of his large hands. Her eyes left his face to follow his second as it dipped down between them, fingering at the waistband of his boxers, until she heard a sharp, “eyes on me.”

Her gaze quickly flickered back up to his face. “See? You can be good sometimes, can’t you?” Sam cooed, boardering on condescending, as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. “You just need some reminding, don’t you, sweetheart? Get so lost in that pretty little head of yours when I’m making you feel so good.”

She’d been so distracted by watching his face, head spinning with his words, that she didn’t realise that he’d freed himself from his boxers until she felt the head of his cock nudging between her folds, gliding easily against her with the slick and spit collected there, and she mewled at the feeling, eyes squeezed shut as he nudged at her clit.

“Eyes open,” his hands left her wrists — which she knew now to keep still — and his fingers splayed across her jaw, squeezing unkindly until she looked up again. “Don’t make me tell you again. You wanna be good for me, don’t you?”

She nodded dumbly, sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as he rubbed her clit with his cock. Teasing her. “Mhm, I will.”

“You will?” Sam gave her jaw one more squeeze, just for good measure, before he wrapped his fingers around the bare skin of her throat. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t put any pressure, just held her, but the threat was there. The head of his cock rested up against her slickened entrance as his head dipped down, lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “what’s your colour?”

They had a pretty rigid safe word system set out — it was something he went over with her every time they had sex, especially like this, when he was mean and grabby and knew that she wouldn’t like it every time. If she so much whispered the word red he’d be up and off of her before she could blink.

But all that left her words was a whiny, “Green, please Sammy.”

She felt his lips curve up against her ear as he smirked. “Good girl.”

Without warning he pushed into her and she sucked in a sharp breath, her own fingers grabbed at each other in an attempt to keep her hands still, and she shoved a breath out of her throat. He’d worked her open with his fingers when he’d been settled down between her legs, but she still felt the stretch, the burn as he settled his cock deep inside of her, and for a moment she had to remember to breathe back in.

“Fuck honey,” he grunted in her ear, fingers gripped her throat just slightly tighter, still only enough for her to feel pressure. “So tight for me, baby. Can barely take it, huh?”

He pulled back before he rutted back inside and she whimpered, squeezing her own fingers together so tightly so she didn’t break his rule. Needing to hold onto him somehow, though, her thighs clamped harshly around his hips, already trembly from the first orgasm he’d pulled from her.

He thrust in again, and again, and again, and soon she saw stars, gasping and whimpering with every drag of his cock against her gummy walls, pleasure rippling through her in waves that made her stomach clench, her cunt clamped down so tightly around him it was a wonder he could move at all.

“So noisy baby,” he crooned on a particular harsh thrust that made her whine, fingers a little tighter around her throat. “Can’t help yourself, can you?” He huffed with another thrust. “Need me to do all the work, hm? Greedy—” he grunted, “greedy girl.”

It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close again. Sam was fucking her with determination, grunted every time he pushed himself back in, the head of his cock nudged the soft spongey spot inside of her that made her shudder again and again and again until she was a mess beneath him, lewd wet sounds accompanying her whimpers with each shift of his hips, her pussy fluttering around the stretch of his girth.

He didn’t slow down, didn’t ease up, didn’t give her a breather. She was close to tears by the time she was almost there, already sensitive from her first orgasm.

She clenched around him and his fingers, in turn, tightened on the sides of her throat. She trusted him, she knew he wouldn’t push it too far. Just enough for her to feel a little dizzy, for the bliss to wash over her like a high.

“Sam- mm- Sammy—” She was practically blabbering as her eyes filled with tears, gasping with each thrust, each smack of his hips against hers.

“Oh honey,” he cooed, condescending, mean. “Too much, hm? Need something?”

His hand loosened on her throat and she inhaled a little shakily.

“Please—” she whined, blinking through tears up at him. She didn’t miss the flicker in his eyes as the tears dribbled down her cheeks, but she knew that he knew she’d tell him if it was too much. It had happened before, neither of them messed around when it came to their safe words.

“Please what, huh?” He thrust in harshly and she groaned, cunt fluttering, so close— “Ah-ah, not yet. Don’t you need to ask me something, dolly?” He squeezed her throat once. “You remember what happens if you cum without asking, don’t you?”

Of course she did. The week prior she’d cum too soon, and he spent the next what felt like hours edging her, too skilled with his fingers, words too filthy that they made her head spin. He’d made such a mess of her that she hadn’t been able to even get up off of the bed for a little while after he finally let her cum.

“Mhm, mm, yeah—” she inhaled shakily, whining, thighs clamped tighter around his hips. “Please- please can I- please let me—” she groaned.

“Let you what?” He was dragging it out, the fucker, grunting into her ear as he leaned down over her, pushed his cock so deep her vision almost whitened out. “Tell me, honey. Use those words for me, c’mon.”

The tears were bubbling over faster, rolling down her flushed cheeks. “Let me cum, baby, please.”

“Asking so nicely,” he grunted, pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “How can I say no to something so pretty, hm? ‘Course you can, baby, go ahead.”

It wasn’t his words that did it for her, but the hand that snuck between them and pressed down on her stomach, the press of his cock suddenly so much more delicious that she almost fucking fainted.

She came with a breathless whine, hips jerked as she finally gasped a breath and whined again, her cunt throbbed around his cock as he kept pumping, rode her through it entirely. Her head tipped back, his mouth on her neck as her eyes squeezed shut, colours danced on the inside of her eyelids, her own little fireworks display.

Sam came shortly after, groaned into her ear in a way that almost made her cum again, and he rutted into her a few more times before he stopped, warmth spreading through her as he panted against her shoulder.

“Fuck,” he huffed, his own chest heaved, brushing against her bare skin. “Oh sweetheart.” The shift in his demeanour was palpable, soft kisses immediately littered across her shoulder and collarbone, palms flattened to smooth over her sweat-dampened skin. He could be so mean in the moment, so dominating and controlling that he left her a fucking mess underneath him, but afterwards? He’d probably feed her grapes and fan her if she asked him to.

She was still gasping for breath, head spinning, and when she knew she wouldn’t be told off for it her hands lifted, immediately clung to his warm shoulders. She loved the way his shoulders felt underneath her touch, muscles rippling with every movement.

Sam kissed up her throat and jaw before he landed on her mouth, and he kissed her slowly, huffed breaths into each other's mouths as he licked between her lips, sweeped behind her top teeth, their lips both wet with spit.

By the time he had pulled away, he’d so thoroughly kissed her that she almost had her breath back.

“You okay?” His voice was so soft it was like there was an entirely different person on top of her compared to five minutes prior. His hand left her throat, smoothed upwards and cupped her jaw. She felt him thumb away tears that had fallen, some clung to her eyelashes, somewhat cool against her hot and flushed skin.

She nodded as she stroked her fingertips along his shoulders with her fingertips, like she’d committed him to memory. She had.

“Hey,” he lightly tapped her cheekbone with his thumb. “Need words, honey.”

She couldn’t help her smile. He was so caring she sometimes wanted to cry. “M’okay,” she whispered, voice soft like she’d shared a secret. “Really good. You’re so good, Sammy.” She praised, tilted her head to kiss his wrist, and he smiled and blushed like he hadn’t just been the one to fuck the life out of her.

“Says you,” Sam leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re perfect. Love you,” another kiss. “Love you so much.”

She smiled so much her cheeks hurt. “Love you too.”

Sam smiled too, that soft smile that made his dimples peek out, eyes crinkled at the corners, and he stroked her cheekbone again. “M’gonna pull out, okay?”

Only when she nodded did he shift, slowly pulled his hips back until she was empty, until all she could feel was the wetness coated between her thighs.

“Christ, made a mess of you,” he murmured, not in the condescending tone from before, instead something closer to admiration. “You’re so pretty when you cum, y’know that?”

She blushed, hard, and shrugged as her cheek dipped to meet her shoulder.

Sam laughed, rolled his eyes as he leaned in and kissed her again. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”

She was still blushing when he helped her sit up, fingers delicately curled around her elbows to pull her upright, her back also damp with sweat. They’d need to change the sheets.

“Two options,” Sam murmured as he gently stroked hair away that was stuck to her forehead, baby hairs that clung to her temples. “We take a shower and let me wash your hair and then go get food, or you let me run you a bath and you wait there looking all pretty for me while I get you something we can eat in there so I can dote on you.”

“You just wanna wash my hair huh?”

Sam smiled. “Guilty.”

Her fingers found his, intertwined with a squeeze. “Bath sounds nice,” she eventually settled on. “As long as you don’t take too long in the kitchen. I’ll miss you.”

He was laughing when he pressed another kiss to her mouth. “Of course. Promise to not take too long, okay?”

She giggled and nodded, smiled against his mouth when he kissed her again. “Okay.”

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester smut #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester drabble #sam winchester oneshot #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction #spn #spn x reader #spn one shot #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural one shot

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tpwrtrmnky · 3 months ago

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origin

[ID: Three panel comic with crudely drawn stick people.

Panel 1: A red person with a slim build and a pink person with a wider build are arguing, while a green person with a triangular build watches.

Red: "Barxian materialism is the singular correct framework for analysis in this context!"

Pink: "No, you cretin! It's fucking post-anarchic transcendent ab-initio modelling!"

Green: "Please. It's been three hours. Everyone else has left. They literally lead to identical conclusions why are you arguing about this-"

From off-panel: "Holy. Fucking. Shitfuck."

Panel 2: The green person is approached by a grayscale individual who's holding a book.

The Aspiring Most Illiterate Person Alive: "You are so right. All infighting is bad in all situations."

Green: "...No that's not what I'm saying at all actually."

Aspirant: "How could you betray me like this? Now you're for infighting instead??"

Green: "What? Who the fuck are you?"

Aspirant: "I'm going to tell everyone you both condemn and support infighting now, but I do share your frustration with people not announcing who they are. I will consider doing it in the future."

Panel 3: It's implied to be significantly later. The green person, who now has a tail and pointy animal ears, is sitting on the floor with an orange person who has dog ears.

Green: "So yeah after everyone collectively decided to listen to that person over my own words, I decided to abandon society and live here."

Orange: "Ok but when can we leave this bunker it's been like a month

How long do we even have food for"

End ID.]

Start - Previous - Next

#pills that make you green #ptmyg

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apocalypseornaw · 9 months ago

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What's Mine

Dean Winchester x Reader

You and Dean have been tiptoeing around each other for weeks until you run into your ex on a hunt and Dean makes it a point to let it be known he isn't giving up what's his..you

The breath was knocked out of you when your back hit the dirt, Dean's body on top of yours was a familiar weight and he'd somehow supported your head to keep your neck from slamming at a weird angle when the two of you landed.

“You ok?” He asked breathlessly and you managed a smile “Had worse” you felt the heat of the flame from the open grave hit your side and knew Sam had torched the bones. Good thing too that damn ghost had tossed you and Dean both like a frigging ragdoll.

“You two good?” Sam called out and Dean who was still currently on top of you smirked “Been in a lot worse positions” you rolled your eyes and shoved him in the chest “Shut up and get off me Winchester” he got to his feet and helped you to yours before grabbing his chest playfully “Oh come on sweetheart. You're killing me here. You know you want me”

You felt your face warm at his teasing. Did you want him? Hell yes, who wouldn't? Did you have no clue where he stood due to months of flirting, light touches and getting so comfortable with each other you regularly ended up in each other's beds if one of you had a bad night.

“Oh yes. Let me ravage you in the middle of this graveyard covered in dirt and ectoplasm” you shot back and he grinned “Oh I'd take ya anyway I could have ya” you rolled your eyes and walked over to the grave where Sam was already filling in the hole and picked up a shovel. Dean joined the two of you and in no time the grave was back covered.

You looked from Sam to Dean “I need a shower” you announced only to be met with Sam saying he needed food and Dean saying he needed a drink. You laughed “There's a bar not far from our hotel. Sign boasted the best wings as voted by some traveling foodie. Let's hit the showers then we can grab some food and a few drinks before we hit the hay”

Dean grinned “That's my girl” and Sam shook his head “You two need to get a room” Sam was sick of the little dance you and Dean were stuck in as much as you were but you refused to make the first move. You knew how Dean was when it came to commitment.

You'd known both brothers for years and had started hunting with them full time after Bobby died then moved into the bunker full time after your last breakup.Sam was your best friend. You loved them both and refused to let your feelings for Dean come between that. He'd eventually make his feelings known, wouldn't he?

You walked in the bar between Sam and Dean, feeling Dean's hand at your lower back. It was a habit he'd long since started doing. Whether it was when the three of you were on a hunt, you went to the grocery store with him or something as simple as walking in a bar. When you'd asked him about it hoping he'd use the opportunity to admit anything he'd instead told you that he just liked to keep a hand on you. Something about in public places it keeping any pervs from thinking about looking your way.

You tried to ignore the instinct to lean into his touch. Was it possible he didn't want you like you wanted him? Maybe he really did just see you as a good friend and you were reading too much into things.

—--------------

Dean felt your back tense under his hand as Sam cleared the way to a booth on the back wall. “You good sweetheart?” He asked, leaning down so you could hear him over the music. You nodded but didn't give a verbal response. He was sure he'd blocked your head from taking a blow but maybe your back or ribs had taken a hit you hadn't admitted to?

He'd make a point to ask you before all of you settled down for the night back at the hotel.

He watched as you sat down on one of the benches then looked between him and Sam “Who's going to the bar?” He raised his hand slightly “you want your usual?” You nodded “Yes please” when you gave him a small smile he felt one slip onto his face in return but didn't miss Sam rolling his eyes. His little brother had been on his ass for weeks. The last threat had been “If you don't make a move I'm gonna start hitting on her for you. It's pathetic man”

—-------------

After Sam had eaten an extraordinary amount of wings for his usual appetite and you and Dean had split an order of mozzarella sticks you had gotten up to go to the bathroom. Normally one or both of them would walk you and wait outside the door but this once you'd convinced them to let you go alone.

When you got back out of the bathroom you saw that both of them had gone to the bar so you headed that way. You were almost to them when you heard a voice call your name you froze dead in your tracks, you'd recognize that voice anywhere. Your ex boyfriend Dominic.

The same ex boyfriend who'd broken up with you because “Ain't no way you're not sleeping with one of the Winchesters. They've never made a habit of working with any other hunter with the exception of Bobby yet you're always welcome to join them”

You turned to see him walking towards you. He was a fairly good looking guy. He was about six foot, dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. You'd been hurt when he accused you but now there was a whole different level to that hurt considering it seemed the Winchester that you did now have feelings for would never want you.

“Hey Dom” you greeted with a smile. “How ya been?” He asked and you shrugged “You know the life, still breathing so I'd call it a win”

—------------

Sam knew you should be out of the bathroom by now. He had hoped Dean would use the night out to admit his feelings. He turned to look around for you and spotted you talking to someone, no not someone your ex. That was Dominic. This should be interesting.

He glanced at Dean, trying to consider if he wanted to do this or not but then he saw your shoulders tense and knew you well enough to know when you needed a rescue. “Isn't that Dom?” He asked if off handedly but Dean spun around fast enough a few people looked their way. “Yeah it is”

The muscle in Dean's jaw was clenched hard watching you talk to your ex and Sam knew it was now or never. “She doesn't look too comfortable. Maybe one of us should go over there?” He stood like he was going to but Dean grabbed his shoulder “Let me”

—-----------------

What had started off as friendly enough turned not so friendly the moment Dom noticed Sam and Dean at the bar “Which one is it?” “Which one is what?” You asked because you honestly had no idea what he meant. “Which Winchester are you fucking?”

Before you could open your mouth to respond you felt a strong set of arms slip around your waist and heard Dean's voice say “That would be me. Why? You got a problem with it?” You cut your eyes up at him so he used that moment to bring one hand up to cup your chin and when his lips met yours the entire bar could've caught fire for all you cared.

You'd thought of kissing Dean so many times, dreamt of it but good lord the real thing couldn't be described. He rolled his tongue against yours, exploring your mouth and letting you taste the bourbon he'd drank. His hand moved to the back of your head, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. You felt heat roll through your stomach as he pulled away from you leaving another light kiss on your lips before turning his eyes back to Dom.

“What was the issue of who she's with? Didn't you break up with her?” You could hear the venom in Dean's voice and felt his arms tighten around you protectively. This was new.

Dom shrugged “Yeah I broke up with her because I figured either you or your brother was fucking her” his eyes slid down to you then back up to Dean before he added “Or both of ya”

You felt Dean tense and knew you needed to diffuse the situation. Dom was strong, yeah but Dean was on an entire different level. He could easily kill him and not break a sweat. You gripped Dean's arms to stop him from moving “Baby,let's get Sammy and leave” you hoped you using a pet name for him that you normally wouldn't might get through his head.

He nodded “Yeah. Let's get back to the hotel” he slipped his arms from around you and grabbed your hand instead, lacing his fingers with yours. You took a few steps away and thought that was it, that Dom would use what brain cells he had and let it go. Instead he said “Does she still make that little sound right before she…”

He didn't get a chance to finish the sentence. Dean had dropped your hand and landed a solid punch before you could blink. Fuck. “SAM!” You shouted over the quickly growing crowd.

You didn't want to get close enough to get caught in the crosshair. Dean would be careful of you but add in enough drunks and adrenaline and accidents happen. “I got him” You heard Sam's voice before you saw him grab Dean's shoulder, ducking the thrown punch “C'mon he ain't worth it”

Dean looked up and met your gaze. You saw him take a deep breath then nod. “Yeah let's go” he reached for your hand and you gave it to him. Sam handed the nearest waitress a few twenties but by that time some drunks had helped Dom to his feet. He was holding his broken nose “So i was right. She's been fucking you”

You squeezed Dean's hand, silently begging him to not be baited. He pulled you into his side then turned to face Dom. “If I would've had her in my bed back then she would've kicked you to the curb long before you split and for the record she doesn't make any small noise with me” you felt your face warm when a chorus of “Ooohhs” went through the bar.

You spotted the bouncer headed in your direction and Dean must have too because he waved towards the door “I'm leaving. I'm leaving. This asshole needed to learn some manners”

The short ride to the motel had been in silence. You followed Sam into the room and headed for the door adjoining your room to theirs.

—-------------

You felt Dean grab your hand before you made it to the door “Can we talk?” You cut your eyes at Sam then nodded “Yeah. Come on” you walked into your room and waited until you heard Dean close the door to turn and face him.

“I'm sorry you were put in that position to have to defend me” You blurted out and he looked stunned for a minute then shook his head “I'm not. That guy's a fucking asshole. He never deserved you” you smiled slightly “Helluva punch and helluva kiss”

He smirked “I meant it” “The punch?” You asked and he rolled his eyes “The kiss you brat” you grinned “Oh really? What about the she doesn't make any small sound with me part?”

He pushed off the door, walking towards you with almost a predatory look. The same thing that made demons run the opposite direction had the ability to make your knees weak in the best way. “That sounds like you're doubting my abilities sweetheart?” You shrugged nonchalantly despite your heart pounding in your throat “Not like you've made a move to show me your abilities”

—--------------

He stopped just shy of touching you “Let me make myself clear if we do this that's it. You're mine, I'm yours. I don't want one night or just sex. I want all of you” “Good” you replied and that was all it took. He closed the space between you and if you thought the kiss in the bar was something it had nothing compared to the way his lips crashed against yours in a bruising, hungry kiss.

He backed you up to the bed and the moment the back of your legs hit it he eased you back on it, never breaking the kiss even as he hovered over you. Once the need for air forced you apart his lips moved across your jaw then down your neck “I've wanted you for so long” he spoke against your skin and you practically melted on the spot. “I'm yours Dean. I've been yours” you whispered and he groaned “Gonna be the death of me”

His hands gripped your shirt and before you could protest he ripped it right down the middle bearing your covered breasts to him. He bit down on one of them and when you moaned and arched your back he slipped his hands under you to relieve you of the bra as well, throwing it across the room. He looked down at you and the look in his eyes made your heart flip “You're so damn beautiful” he murmured before crashing his lips against yours again.

Your hands found his shirt so he broke the kiss long enough to slip it off and throw it, giving you access to his skin. Your hands smoothed over his chest, tracing the tattoo and small scars littered around it that even angelic healing didn't get rid of.

“I need more of you, please” he begged and you fucking whimpered hearing Dean Winchester sound that wrecked. “You have all of me Dean” you whispered and he left another searing kiss against your lips before moving down your body.

He slipped your boots off along with your jeans then panties leaving you bare to him before settling between your legs. He didn't give you time to adjust before his mouth found your core. The first lick was tentative, testing but when your hips bucked up into him he damn near growled before pinning your lower body down with one arm and diving in like a man starved.

—--------------

You were quivering under Dean. He'd already worked one orgasm out of you with his tongue alone and now had added two fingers into you as well. You were so close to that edge again and damn him he knew just what you needed. He turned his wrist to find that spot deep inside of you, running his fingertips over it as he sucked your clit into his mouth and you came again with a scream of his name on your lips.

Once you came down from that high you shoved weakly at his head “Please Dean, too much” he left one final kiss against your clit before leaning back to grin up at you “Worth the wait?” You nodded weakly “Please take your pants off and get up here”

He stood and slipped his boots, jeans and boxers off before crawling up your body, kissing and licking every inch of skin he could on the way up. When he crashed his lips against yours you could taste yourself on him and felt yourself clench especially when he moved to your neck to work your pulse point with his tongue and teeth.

“Dean, I will return the favor next time but please get inside me” He grinned against your skin “Yes ma'am” you felt the head of his cock teasing at your entrance and rolled your hips up towards him. He slid in slowly, a low moan leaving you both at the feeling of him stretching you.

Once you adjusted to his size you tapped his shoulder “You can move” he gave a thrust and when your hands went to his shoulders, nails digging in, he groaned “That's my girl” before setting a punishing pace.

—------------

You were folded damn near in half, your legs on Dean's shoulders as he pounded into you. You felt tears forming in the corner of your eyes from being pushed to that delicious line between pleasure and pain.

Your legs were shaking, your whole body felt like it was made of liquid. You'd never had this many orgasms fucked out of you and it seemed like he was aiming for one more before he let himself come. “Dean please. I can't take any more” you begged and he kissed your cheek “One more baby. Please. You've got one more for me”

His fingers slipped between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit and you felt that pressure burst again,your vision going soft from the pleasure coursing through you. His thrusts started getting uneven and you knew he was close. “Fuck Dean. You feel so damn amazing. Please come for me, fill me up” you sobbed, fucked senseless.

He groaned,burying his face in your neck as he gave one final hard thrust and you felt when he came deep inside of you.

—----------------

He slowly eased your legs down but stayed inside of you as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal. When he pulled out he apologized at the low whine you gave before going to grab a warm rag to clean you both up.

After he was sure you were cleaned up and didn't need anything else he climbed into bed next to you and pulled you over on his chest. “No regrets on wanting me?” He asked and you felt your heart jump at the uncertainty in his voice despite having just fucked you senseless. You leaned up to look up at him “Why? You already sick of me?” You teased and his eyes narrowed “Don't even woman”

You laughed lightly “I'm sure Dean. You're who I want” “Good, because I'd hate to have to kill anyone who tried to take you from me” you shook your head “Not happening Winchester. You're stuck with me” He pulled you back on his chest and left a kiss on your head before saying “I've been stuck in a lot worse positions than having you in my arms”

#dean winchester smut #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #spn fanfiction

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 3 months ago

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Too Much (Little Sister Version)

Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by @redbird-tf

Synopsis: you have nightmares of dying like Mary, and you start to get really clingy with Dean.

It started out in a subtle way. Your first nightmare had been vague, and though it had jarred you, it wasn’t enough to curb your day-to-day activities…much.

“I’m going for a supply run.” Dean’s words had you looking up from the homework you’d been working on. “We’re out of beer…and food.”

“I’ll come.” You were on your feet before the words even left your mouth.

“It’s just a quick run,” Dean argued. “Don’t you have homework?”

“It can wait,” you insisted, already on your way to the Impala. “Let’s go!”

Of course it would be Dean—it had always been Dean. Sure, he had his anger issues and his bad moments. He drank too much and he isolated himself when he was upset. But he always came back; when Sam was at Stanford, when dad disappeared, it was always you and Dean.

So when you started having nightmares about burning on the ceiling, Dean was who you turned to.

Scary things shouldn’t phase you anymore, not after all you’d seen. But this was different. Your whole life you’d heard “what happened to mom.” Never any specifics—it was always, “the demon killed mom,” or “what the demon did to Mary.” Nobody ever gave you any details; they always said you didn’t need to know.

So when you snuck into Dean’s room in the bunker and stole dad’s journal, you were in for a surprise.

The pages you’d read had been stuck together—it didn’t look like anyone had read them—and it took you a moment to peel them apart.

I went to visit a shrink today—I thought he might be a vampire. I went in undercover, booked myself an appointment. I figured out pretty quickly that he wasn’t a monster, but I didn’t leave. It sounds stupid, but I actually talked to him. Told him about Mary. Well, as much as I could tell, which is more than I’ve told anyone. Point is, he told me to write down what happened to her. Every detail I could remember. I don’t like thinking about her…but maybe he was right. Little Sammy asked about Mary just the other day, and I yelled at him. I still feel bad…it’s not his fault, he’s just a kid. Maybe this is the only way I’ll be able to talk about her, but maybe that’ll be enough to keep me from going off on the kids. So here goes…

And John had laid out every gory detail of that night, and you’d read the whole thing. You’d always thought it would be better knowing; that it would somehow bring you some extra closure to know how your mother’s final moments went. You were wrong.

And so came the nightmares. The first one was fuzzy and indistinct; a fire, the sound of screaming. But it was enough to have you going with Dean whenever he left the bunker.

The second one was more vivid. It was also when you realized that it wasn’t your mother you were dreaming about—it was you.

It was so real—you felt the demon’s powers slashing open your stomach, you felt your body lifting off the floor…

But the worst part was the heat. It stung your eyes and sizzled against your blood and seared your skin. You tried to scream, but the smoke choked you and stopped your voice. You struggled to inhale, coughing on the smoke and crying at the pain that lit up every nerve ending.

The bright light of the fire left first, then slowly afterwards the pain. But you were still choking and gasping for breath when you sat up in your bed.

“Dean,” you whimpered, the lone word echoing through your empty room. You weren’t quite used to the bunker yet—you were so used to the motels, where your brothers were right next to you at all times. Most of the time it was annoying, but right now…

You threw your covers off you, finally getting a hold of your runaway breathing as you padded barefoot towards your door. You couldn’t stay in this room—it was this room that you’d dreamt of, this ceiling that you’d burned on.

You flung your door open and started down the hall, but you only got halfway to Dean’s room before you stopped. You couldn’t go to him like this, a tear-streaked mess in the middle of the night; he would know something was wrong, and then you’d have to talk about it.

You couldn’t talk about it.

A bang from the kitchen stole your attention and your breath, your mind wandering towards images of a yellow-eyed intruder. You tip-toed to the kitchen, peaking around the corner and breathing easily when you saw Dean rummaging in the fridge for a beer.

You slipped into the kitchen, heading straight for Dean.

“You’re up early,” he greeted, stiffening in surprise when you wrapped your arms around him. “Hey, something wrong?”

“No,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his shirt. “Good morning,” you added lamely as you pulled away, as if the greeting would explain away the hug.

“Yeah, mornin.” Dean shrugged, choosing to ignore your strange behavior. “Couldn’t sleep? It’s only 5.”

It was later than you’d thought.

“Not really,” you said. “Can we make breakfast?” You weren’t hungry, but you’d take any excuse to keep Dean close.

“Only if you get the bacon,” Dean said with a grin.

“I think we’re out,” you answered.

“Unacceptable,” Dean decided. “You start on the pancakes, I’ll make a run.”

“Wait! Um…” you wracked your brain for an excuse. “Um, the pancakes can wait, I’ll go with you.”

Dean squinted ever so slightly as he stared you down—that was twice in a week that you wanted to go with him to the store without a good reason.

“You sure you’re ok?” He asked.

“Yeah, just…I want some fresh air.”

“Alright.” You both knew he didn’t believe you, but neither of you brought it up again.

You felt pathetic as you trailed behind Dean, but the idea of sitting around the empty bunker alone until he got back or Sam woke up…

You just couldn’t do it. You couldn’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own home, without Dean around.

You sat just a little closer to Dean than you normally would once you got into the Impala, sitting towards the middle of the seat even though the right side was empty. You felt Dean watching you from the corner of his eye, but to your relief he didn’t say anything.

…

“Ok, so how many pounds do we want?” You held a brand of bacon in each hand, eyeing them both. When Dean didn’t respond to your question, you turned around to find the cart there, but no Dean. “Dean?” You glanced up and down the aisle, but he wasn’t in sight. You threw both bacon packages into the cart and ran down the aisle, going down the row and looking frantically down every aisle you passed. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.

You rubbed a hand against your chest when your next breath wouldn’t go through your tightened wind pipe. You tried to take deep breaths, but each one was less satisfying than the last. Once you reached the last aisle with still no Dean, you turned around and started back the way you came, hoping that he was down an aisle on the other side of the store.

“Dean? Dean!” You were calling his name, but you could barely even hear your winded and squeaky voice in the vast emptiness of the store, so you knew there was no way Dean could.

You passed the aisle with your cart and kept going, looking down the first, then the second…

“Dean!” You rushed forward, flinging yourself into Dean’s surprised embrace.

“Hey, what happened?” Dean was stiff and alert, whipping his head around to see what had spooked you.

“I couldn’t find you,” you whimpered, tightening your arms around Dean’s midsection. “I-I didn’t know where you went. Don’t do that to me!”

“Ok, ok hey I’m sorry,” Dean soothed, pulling away and kneeling down, brushing your hair out of your face so he could see you. “C’mon, what’s going on with you? What’s got you so spooked?”

You didn’t answer—you just launched yourself forwards and wrapped your arms around Dean’s neck, burrowing your head against his shoulder.

“Don’t leave me,” you pleaded.

“Ok, ok.” Dean held you closely, rubbing your back. “Ok I’m right here kiddo. Let’s get out of here, ok? Let’s go home.”

…

You held Dean’s hand in vice grip on the way out to the car, but he didn’t comment on it. He waited until you were safely bundled into the Impala to speak again.

“Kid, you need to tell me what’s going on here.”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Dean glanced at you, but he didn’t speak again.

…

You were feeling lucky for most of the day—Sam and Dean spent the morning going through books in the library, so you were able to do your homework right next to Dean without warranting worry or attention.

“Check this out.” Sam’s words to Dean had you looking up curiously while Sam turned his computer around. “Looks like a case in town.”

Your heart dropped to your toes—you were too young to hunt, so a hunt in town meant that you sat in the bunker while the boys were out.

They spent the next twenty minutes talking about the case before they got ready to head out. Dean was throwing guns in a bag in his room when you went to find him.

“We’ll be back tonight,” Dean promised. “But if we find the thing that’s killing these people, it might not be until late, so don’t wait up ok?”

“Can’t I come?” Your tug on Dean’s sleeve stopped his movements.

“You know you can’t,” he said. “What’s going on with you? And don’t say nothing, because I know something’s wrong.”

“I just don’t want you to go,” you said. “Please De? Please don’t leave me here alone.”

“You’re not gonna tell me what’s going on?” Dean asked.

You shook your head.

“Then I have no choice.” Dean sighed. “People are dying, and you can’t come. I have to go.” Dean zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “We’ll be back before tomorrow.”

“Dean—“ you reached out for your big brother, but in one stride he was out of your reach, then to the door, then he was gone.

…

You were trying to read the same page over and over, but the words were swimming around the page, blurred by the tears in your eyes and the shaking in your hands that had the pages fluttering. You looked up for the millionth time, a deep pit in your stomach convincing you each time that the yellow eyes demon would be standing in your doorway, waiting to kill you.

You dropped the book on your desk with a thud, finally giving up on homework—you wouldn’t get anything done until Dean was home, you just couldn’t focus.

You picked up your headphones and slipped them over your head, but you found that not being able to hear your surroundings made your anxiety even worse, and the soothing notes of your favorite song did nothing to help for once. You tried turning on the tv, but you found that you couldn’t look away from the door for more than a few seconds before you started to get scared again.

Finally you couldn’t take it anymore—you closed your room door, your bathroom, and even your closet; open doors just had your imagination running away with images of yellow eyes coming to kill you.

You burrowed yourself under the covers and tried to force yourself to sleep. Hour after hour you convinced yourself that you’d just never be able to sleep, but you didn’t have anything else to do but keep trying, so you didn’t move.

You were still laying there when the door opened.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean greeted. You smiled at him, and he smiled back for a second before the smile faded. “Me and Sammy have another case—we’re gonna be gone a while, ok?”

“No, wait!” You tried to get up to stop Dean, but you couldn’t move. “Dean, don’t go! Dean don’t leave!”

He was already out the door, and in his place stood Azazel, pale yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.

“Dean!” You screamed, but it was too late; your pajamas were already soaked in blood coming from a painful gash across your stomach. You whimpered, finally able to move as you wrapped your arms around the wound as if you could protect yourself. You couldn’t.

You were sobbing as your body lifted off the ground, your stomach lurching as you went from wall to ceiling. There was no warning spark, or small flame—you were just suddenly and completely engulfed in flames, your hair burning and your skin scorched. You were still screaming when Dean came running back into the room.

“Dean,” you whimpered. “Dean no!”

Yellow eyes had a knife in his hand, and he turned it on your big brother in an instant. As the fire burned around you, you watched as Dean got stabbed again and again and again…

You woke up screaming. The fire was gone, and so was the pain, but you couldn’t even tell. Your eyes couldn’t take in a single detail of the room—they were blurry and unfocused from sleep. Your brain couldn’t decipher what parts of your dream were real and what weren’t. You sobbed out short and shaky breaths, and your cries were just starting to fade into whimpers when you heard it; the loud thunk of the bunker door closing.

Your fears and your crying returned full force, and you were gasping for breath as you felt around for any kind of weapon.

He’s coming he’s coming he’s coming he’s coming…

It was like all you could see was Azazel as you heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. You wanted to do what Dean always did—push his fear down, throw away his emotions, and just fight—but you couldn’t. You couldn’t catch your breath, you couldn’t stop sobbing, and you couldn’t find your gun.

When your door handle started to turn, you thought you were going to pass out. Your already-unsatisfying breath caught in your throat, and with the lack of breath came black spots at the edges of your vision.

You forced a single deep breath in and out—you couldn’t be unconscious when the demon came to kill you, you couldn’t be that helpless. You had to fight, even though you would lose.

The door swung open, and you were still gasping for breath and grappling for any kind of weapon when—

When Dean walked in.

“Dean!” You were off the bed and in your brother’s arms before he had a chance to speak.

“Hey, hey what’s going on?” Dean’s arms tightened around you when he heard you sobbing and felt you shaking. “Baby what happened?”

“Don’t leave me,” you begged between sobs. “Don’t leave me De, don’t leave me.”

“Ok, ok I’m not going anywhere,” Dean promised. “N/N I’m right here.”

“What’s going on?” Sam walked into the room, staring at his siblings with concern.

“I…I think we’re ok here,” Dean decided, carrying you to your bed. “You should go bandage that cut, I’ve got her.” When Sam hesitated, Dean assured him, “I’ve got her Sam.”

Sam finally left, and Dean climbed up on your bed, settling you into his lap when you wouldn’t let your vice grip around his neck go.

“I need you to talk to me,” Dean pleaded. “I need to know what’s going on, what this is.”

“There was fire,” you whimpered, your tears soaking Dean’s shirt. “There was fire, and it burned everywhere, and I was bleeding and I was on the ceiling, and-and yellow eyes stabbed you, and—“

“Whoa, whoa, slow down.” Dean started to rock you back and forth subconsciously. “Hey, how do you know about all that stuff.”

“I’m sorry.” You were sobbing again. “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I read his journal and he wrote down everything and I thought it would help but…but now I can’t stop dreaming about it. I’m so—I’m so scared, De. All the time.”

“Shh, shh you’re ok,” Dean soothed, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I’ve got you sweetheart, I’m right here. Listen,” Dean tried to pull away so he could look at you, but you just tightened your grip. “Ok. I used to have nightmares about mom, too. All the time. I still get them sometimes.”

“You do?” You sniffled. “What do you do about them?”

“Well now it’s easier, because we killed yellow eyes. He’s gone, N/N. Nobody’s ever gonna die like mom did again, especially not you. You know that, right?”

“The dreams feel so real,” you answered.

“I know, I know they do. But they’re not. And I’m gonna help you through this, but kiddo, I can’t be around all the time, you know that. I’ve got a job to do.”

“O—ok,” you sniffled. “I can do better.”

“But I’m still gonna be here when you need me. I promise.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I need you right now.”

Dean’s arms squeezed impossibly tighter around you.

“Then I’m here for you.”

Taglist:

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

#the winchesters #dean and sam #dean winchester #supernatural dean #sam winchester #winchesters x sister #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #spn sam winchester #sam winchester spn #supernatural sam winchester #dean winchester x little sister #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester spn

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deansbite · 3 months ago

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　　　　𝒥𝒞　　｡　　drink up, angel

pairings　𓎟𓎡 ₊ ˖　afab!reader x demon!dean winchester　,　angel!reader x demon!dean winchester

warnings　𓎟𓎡 ₊ ˖　18+ mdni !!　kinktober (ish)　use of nicknames　use of "good girl"　unprotected sex (WRAP IT!!!)　p in v　guilt　degrading　demon!dean (he should have his own warning tbh)　mocking praise　consumption of (demon) blood　sorta virgin!reader (except the vessel isn't)　no prep　descriptive blood　dom!dean　sub!reader

summary　𓎟𓎡 ₊ ˖　despite dean going missing and mysteriously reappearing in the bunker — the thought of him and you together wasn't as bad as you initially thought. Infact, you were probably attracted to it. Despite being the angel everyone expects to be perfect and innocent.

READERS POV

⏝ 𝅄︶ ͡𑁬 ⚠︎ ໒ ͡ ︶𝅄 ⏝

It was unusual. Well, the eerie silence that filled the bunker from top to bottom. Except for when you stood up and took a step. Every tiny noise echoed — you could drop a feather in the Deans empty room and hear it all the way to the library. That was because Dean had the Mark Of Cain and just so happened to die — which caused the fucking mark to turn him to a demon. Not because of possession, no, it was purely Dean controlling his body.

It was no biggie, because the boys got through thick and thin — except there was maybe a little problem.. It was that you guys couldn't exactly help Dean without Dean there.. present physically — right..? And that's exactly what your problem was — Dean was M.I.A. and nobody had a clue on where he was or with whom he was. And that had a whole search party out for him. Castiel, Sam, Jody, Donna.. every and any hunter would call if they saw him.

That lead to why you were babysitting the bunker. If a hunter called, you'd simply fly there. And Castiel couldn't do it due to some struggles he had with controlling his flying.. and none of you guys could afford a fail. You needed some good news. And you agreed so now you were left pacing around the bunker, every step you took echoing through the bunker.

The clanks of your shoe against the pavement weren't as quiet as you'd expected. It was like you could set off an entire earthquake with each step. God — you were so bored you were analyzing everything and observing to the point where you see things you never did before.

For example, you noticed the amount of books that had a bunch of dust particles on their spines, the top edges and at the bottom of them. And — there was one particular wooden plank in the library that when you stepped over, would groan. There was also a continious hum of the fridge whenever you walked into the hallway and past the kitchen. Which would fade out further down and come at a complete stop when you stood infront of Deans room —

Deans room. A frown settled on your face. You weren't familiar with the human emotions — but you presumed this one could be connected to melancholy you think it was. You've read about that somewhere. It was connected to sadness. But you shouldn't know how that feels.

Like, you were a full blown angel. You shouldn't feel human-like things. You weren't exactly on the rocky, terrestrial planet which was earth every single day. This was actually your first time being here for a longer period of time. All you knew before was that it was a solid and active surface with mountains, valleys, canyons, plains and more. But you never explored much and never felt the desire to do so.

Not until you ended up being asked by Castiel to come down a couple of times. And you agreed hesitantly, it incredibly strange. You were in a vessel, that could describe how you'd look if you were human. But you weren't human.. whatever, that wasn't important. What was important was that during the period where he asked for help, you popped in here and there or when the boys prayed. Not every single time because you had your own things to tend too. But they were grateful for the help.

Despite basically being put on the blacklist now for all the angels and heaven due to you deciding to help the Winchester's and Castiel, which both of them had a reputation of killing a bunch of angels — you felt like it was a sacrifice that was up to you to make. Which you felt proud of making. Because checking in here and there became normal and even something you looked forward too, helping everyone — and may or may not aswell as seeing the older Winchester.

You hadn't known or seen him — heard of, yeah but not met until you helped them out. He was a bit rough around the edges, extremely rude toward you at first — because he didn't trust angels. Which was understandable. With time, he warmed up enough to you to pray as a form of communication on occasion. You'd sometimes move around some objects so he knew you heard. You both had a thing that felt very dear to you. You genuinely would get concerned when you didn't hear from Dean at least once a month.

And you didn't know how to feel about it. Because you weren't human. You didn't have the mind to feel emotions, feel what humans felt. You felt numb to most things. It was a scary thing to experience, because imagine being a loyal and obedient angel — a favorited angel, who was also beloved by many. And then you became fond of humanity. All because of a single human. Hell, if you hadn't met Dean and became who you are today, you'd just consider squashing him like a bug. That's how weak he truly was in comparison to you.

But here you were, have you had an idea of what happiness was? Nope. Sadness? No. Anger? What even are these words? Aren't they just here to describe how someone is acting that? Because your perspective of emotions were blurry — because you don't know what they are enough to really care. You didn't have a grasp on what it was, really.

You saw nothing special about them. Until now. Standing at the doorway of Deans room. Pondering and reminiscing. Your eyes flew from one part of the room to another. The sheets untouched but slightly messy and they had the same note Dean gave Sam before he left on the pillow. His handwriting. He wrote it before he willingly left. You just stood there, unsure of what to think or feel. A moment passed before Deans scent finally hit your nostrils. The aftershave smell, his cologne, a hint of alcohol and a bit of a.. cigarette smell that you could tell just in the slightest bit that humans wouldn't tell.

A memory you had that stuck to you. It was one where Dean would put his duffle bag on his desk before lazily throwing himself on his bed, settling in and getting all cozy. Then you knocked, he'd sigh before telling you an almost inaudible little 'come in' and you'd enter. Dean would ask what you were doing before you asked him a couple of questions. And that night you guys spoke the entire night. It was fun.

You'd genuinely do anything to be able to have a repeat of that event.

A sigh escaped your lips before you made your way back to the library. Just to make sure that nobody called during the time you'd been busy daydreaming or whatever. Once you made it, your hands reached out and grabbed the smartphones, clicking their power button so they turn on, just to get nothing. You were about to just place the phone back on the flat, wooden surface — until you sucked in quite a deep breath, inhaling a familiar smell.

You were about to just brush it off as nothing when it got stronger. Your eyebrows furrowed and you blinked. Thoughts filled your head and you turned your head over your shoulder. Nothing. The distinctive smell started to subside. Okay.. maybe your mind was just playing tricks and you were just paranoid after Deans absence.

Until it came back. Hell, you might even have to say stronger than the first two times. And then it hit you. Aftershave, a cologne you couldn't ever put your finger on what it smelt like, a heavy stench of alcohol and smell of sex — jesus christ, the same hint of cigarettes. And you knew this couldn't be a paranoid joke. Your hands grip tightend on the smartphone.

The recognizable voice chuckled behind you. "Sweetheart, I know you know that i'm here. Don't be shy, show me that pretty face." His voice was mocking, maybe even straight up cruel because of how extreme the way he said it. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you had goosebumps. You were certainly terrified — unknowing of what could possibly come your way when it came to Dean as a demon.

"I know you can hear me, c'mon. Pretty angel like you doesn't like to take orders? Hm? What if I was God? Told ya too obliderate all of humanity. Wipe the slate clean. Start over. Or told you to fucking look at me because I won't be asking another time." Deans — demon Deans voice boomed throughout the library. The old you would probably be ignoring him. But you weren't exactly 'the old you'. You were.. simply present you.

So, you spun around on your heels, your eyes taking a moment to drag up from his shoes. And then you met his emerald green eyes. Usually they were majestic and amazing to look at. But this wasn't Dean Dean. Because you saw his piercing eyes and the glint of dark, malevolent emerald green eyes. It left you speechless. And not in a good way. Nope, exactly the opposite.

"Uh huh, following instructions all proper. Makin' me feel all high and mighty, sweets." He let out a low chuckle, his eyes observing you. As if he had an idea that you were probably planning on just getting the hell away. He hummed, clicking his tongue. "Not too fast, Mary. We just reunited, I missed you real bad." He frowned — trying to impersonate being sad.

You just furrowed your eyebrows, clearly displeased. "What're you even planning on doing with me?" He shrugged, "That depends on what you want to do, sweetheart. I don't do shit without consent." You scoffed in amusement. "A demon refusing to do something without consent? What is this? A bad dream?" You quickly shut up when Dean simply glared at you. "I take that back." "Good girl." And that made your knees weak. I mean, fuck it was still the same looking same green-eyed man in front of you, with the same deep voice.

But it wasn't exactly him. You knew that. But was it bad a part of you just.. simply couldn't care less? "I don't want you to do anything." He simply let out a laugh. "Sure. You're a prude anyway, d'you even know what there is for me t'do to you? Like I don't know, show you what sex is, stick my fingers in you or my cock while i'm at it. Betcha would like that." You accidentally choked on your spit at that. "Huh?" You said between some coughs.

"Didn't ya hear me?" He asked, skeptical. A moment passed where you just stared at him, all wide-eyed. "I asked you a fuckin' question." He added, stern now. "Oh — I uh, no I wouldn't —" He didn't respond to that, just took step by step, every step slowly approaching you, the wooden floorboards groaning under his newly added weight. "Y'sure? You wouldn't want me t'just turn you 'round and slip in nnice 'n slow. Wonder if you're tight." You just stared at him, lips parted. He smirked, the right side of his mouth tugging upward.

He then decided to simply lean down, his head closer and closer to yours, lips almost touching. You felt his breath on your lips and he most likely felt yours on his. Your eyes slowly travelled down — they lingered over his nose with the small bump — then his cheeks and nose which had the faintest freckles dusted around and finally down to his plump lips. You cleared your throat. "Just say no 'n i'll leave y'alone." He spoke, his tone mocking as always. "But i'm sure an innocent, perfect little angel like you won't accept big, bad demon like me."

You just noticed him lean in closer, your lips basically touching if either you or him accidentally sneezed. "And? No complaints?" He chuckled, in a cruel way — which you hadn't noticed, but even if you did, you probably couldn't really care less. And he dragged it out, obviously. Just sucking in a deep breath, his eyes darting from your eyes down to your lips. You were sure you were slowly coming to a realization on what you were exactly doing.

But before you had any time to exactly protest, his lips came down, clashing against yours. His hand immediately touching you all over.. singular because his right hand was busy wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly to make your airway a bit tighter. But to necessairily cut it off. He chuckled when your lips vibrated against his because you whined in the kiss — but the kiss trapped the noise from being any louder.

"Thought you were a good lil' angel. Seems like the exact opposite. 'Cause I ain't gonna be nice, baby. Gonna bend y'over on the table, fuck y'all nice 'n good, make sure your brain s'all fuzzy 'n fucked out." He promised. Your lips were chasing his as you both had a hot and sloppy makeout. Deans left hand paused at your clothed ass, just squeezing before pulling away from the kiss.

"Bend over the table." He ordered, his right hand leaving your throat and his left hand hesitantly letting go of your ass before he removed it. "But what about the door anyone could walk i —" He shot you a sharp glare, not before blinking and when his eyelids lifted, his eyes were pure black. No iris in sight. Pun not intended. You gulped and just decided to stay intact before turning back around. Mind you, phone still clenched between your fingers.

Dean wasted no time, his hips ground against yours. Around four layers of clothes not providing the friction he gave. His hand went to your lower back before he slowly bent you over. He had a smug smirk on his face as to how easily you followed along with what he made you do. But you didn't see that because your eyes were currently focused on the bookshelves in front of you. All you could do was hear and wait patiently for something to happen.

And honestly — this whole situation escalated so fast it would probably be a blur by tomorrow. As if it never happened and you would be like those.. drunk people you've seen on the television screens and in bars. At least you hoped so, because you were sure fucking a demon wouldn't exactly be a list of things of what to do as a fucking angel. Besides, maybe it was just the way demon Dean attracted you. He was simply Dean.. just less Dean and add some.. more insanity to him.

You were wondering what Dean was doing before you looked over your shoulder, seeing Dean take in the view. Before his right hand landed on your hip. You trapped your bottom lip between your teeth. "Uh-huh, a moment 'go you were all whiny 'n bitchy 'bout me fuckin' ya but now you're all slutty, ain't that right?" He just raised his brows. You just rolled your eyes. "Oh? Gonna act all bitchy again?" He tutted, his left hand going to your hair and his fingers wrapped around a good chunk of your hair, he tugged on it.

"Anythin' ya wanna add?" He sneered. You shook your head. Despite being an angel, you still felt the burn of the hair strands being tugged on your vessels head. "No — no." You managed to get out, he seemed pleased enough. "That's what I fuckin' thought." He let go of the pieces of hair, but his hand shoved your head down onto the table. It wad harsh. "Don't move or I swear t'god y'won't be able too anymore."

And you knew he was not joking so you just let the side of your face rest on the wooden table, your hand let go of that phone and they travelled down to the edge of the table, your hands gripped onto it and you weren't exactly experiences in this — but Dean knew what he was doing. You at least assumed — because you weren't sure how this whole thing would go down. "Will this hurt?" "What'dya fuckin' expect?" His response was filled with irritation.

You wiggled your hips as you just heard his belt clanking as he undid it. All you could do pretty much is just wait because you did not want to disobey Dean. "Y'fuckin' want this, right?" He asked which he then grumbled something under his breath. You nodded before he rolled his eyes. "A fuckin' verbal response please?" "Yeah —" And he immediately continued with what he was doing.

You couldn't see anything so after a little, Deans hands went on your body, his fingers hooked underneath the waistband of your pants. His hands were warm in contrast of your colder skin. He tugged your pants down as fast as he could. He seemed like he wasn't planning on wasting a single second. Because holy jesus the 180 turns that keep taking you by surprise just keep going. You sucked in a breath when Deans fingers now went to your panties. His index teased your entrance through the thin fabric seperating them.

He then — without much warning pulled your panties to the side with the same index finger, his left hand gripping your hip and his calloused thumb after years of hunting and labor scratched your skin a little. You felt something tease your entrance. A gaspy breath escaped Dean from behind you. "Y'feel so wet. Hopefully s'enough t'act as lube." And then you felt him push in. His tip was in and you let out a moan, eyes fluttering shut.

He chuckled. "Jeez, baby. That fuckin' cunt s'suckin me in perfectly. Clenchin' 'round me real tight, too. Sad your pretty lil' vessel ain't a fuckin' virgin. Woulda enjoyed poppin' two cherries at once." He now pushed in deeper. His right hand went under your shirt, you just now realized because he was groping your boobs, his index and middle finger twisting your nipple as you let out a whine. "Fuck." You exclaimed.

"Real filthy. Never expected an angel like you squeezin' my cock so tight." He taunted, he bottomed out. Your walls clenched around him and relaxed before repeating that action, pants escaped your lips. You could feel every vein, the size of him and the way he almost split you into two. Dean boasted about sex all the time after he slept with girls. You never knew how right he was until now. Because jesus fucking christ you weren't expecting it to feel this good. You were probably zoned out because Dean spanked your ass. "Come back t'me, whore. Stick a fuckin' dick in ya 'n you'll become all inresponsive like a cock whore." He scoffed.

"C'mon, as I was sayin', open up that mouth." He ordered, still deep in you without moving. You fluttered your eyes open, his wrist right in your eyesight. He folded himself over you, his chest flush against your back. His right hand no longer teasing your boobs. Which was probably why his wrist was right in front of you. But it was because he had sliced his skin open a little under. "You're enough of a slut t'take a demons dick. I'll fuckin' move when ya suck on demon blood. Like Sammy, except a pretty lil' thing like y'does it. Drink up, angel." The crimson red substance was right in front of you.

Your eyes widened. "I —" Jesus christ. You were an angel getting dicked down by a fucking demon. You were in far too deep right now. You leaned forward slightly. "That's it, atta girl." He praised, you didn't pay attention to it if it had an underlaying cruel tone under his words. You just focused on the disgusting demon blood you were about to consume. Your lips wrapped around the wound, the iron — y taste immediately sitting on your tastebuds. That's when you didn't even have time to complain about the thick substance you swallowed —

Because Dean pulled all the way out — well, almost because his tip was still in you. Then he slammed his hips forward, you would've moaned had his arm — and blood you were consuming with some dribbling down your chin onto the wooden table — not been muffling you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. "Fuck, shoulda fucked this pussy a while 'go. Was actually thinkin' bout it." He panted and slowly started a harsh, relentless and fast pace from the get go.

You had time to adjust at the beginning, but now he was just careless, fucking away all and every thought you had. At some point, the table was shaking due to the hard thrusts. Your hips were probably gonna be bruised with the edge of the table digging into your skin.

You heard him groan and gasp behind you, a breathy chuckle escaping him. "So much for innocent angel."

That made you whine — well, as best as you could, still lapping up the blood that was basically like a faucet eacaping him. You were being fucked so good and hard — skin slapping against skin echoing — the light creaks of the table shaking and Deans pants were so incrediblely lewd and loud.

It seemed like there was no end in sight. Except you felt something build up in your abdomen — you weren't sure what it was. If you didn't know how to explain emotions, whatever this was you probably couldn't, either.

You were right there. Until the bunker door opened, your eyes widened and you were surprised Dean didn't even try to stop, he just hummed in amusement. "Hey! We're home —" Sam called out with Castiel whispering something to him. "Yeah — I know." Sam said — probably in response to Castiel. Before he started speaking up once more, his boots clanking against the metal staircase.

"Hello? Anyone home —" Sam's voice died in his throat when Castiels jaw dropped. "Oh." Your eyes flew to them as their eyes were wide. "Oh hey, look. We got an audience. Demon fuckin' an angel in front of their friends. Ain't that funny?" Dean kept going, not a care in the world.

You were fucking embarrassed. And that was for fucking sure.

⏝ 𝅄︶ ͡𑁬 ⚠︎ ໒ ͡ ︶𝅄 ⏝

I didn't proofread this shit and i quite frankly do not want too I HATE THIS SO SO MUCH but i gotta feed yall </3

tags: @pearlzier @fallbhind @beausling @deanswidow @gibson-g1rl @dollsltt

amab vers: im too fucking lazy for this rn...... leave me alone

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melgolbach · 1 year ago

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The Lights [Finnick Odair x Reader]

warnings: (panic attack),, n just overall cuteness overload !1!1!<3

You were having yet another panic attack inside the bunker, Katniss was by your side in an instant when Finnick was nowhere to be seen. “Deep breaths in, deep breaths out. Follow after me,” she whispered, rocking you back in forth in her arms. You tried following her directions but in the end, you failed and your panic attack was getting worse and worse.

“Is she okay?” Peeta asked Katniss, who looked back with a ‘does she look okay?’ look towards him. ‘ go get Finnick . NOW ’ she mouthed to Peeta, he nodded and walked off.

It was just you and Katniss again, and Katniss felt you to the core. You had just started to hyperventilate, and all she could do was hold you close to her body to keep you warm and try to get you back on track.

About ten minutes after Peeta had left the two of you, pairs of footsteps clicking to the floor could be heard. Katniss turned her head towards the sound, and exhaled out when she saw Peeta and Finnick behind. “Thanks for looking after her Kat.” Finnick nodded his head towards her, “she is my best friend. I’d be a bad best friend if I didn’t do anything,” Katniss gently lifted you up, the two of you walking towards Finnick.

“Hey, hey princess. What’s wrong? What’s got you so worked up?” Finnick took you into his arms, thanking Katniss once again as the other two walked away to who knows where. “I- I- I shot him,” you whispered, your hands going to your face to scratch at it. Finnick grabbed ahold of your hands, rubbing them gently with his thumbs. “That’s not what we’re gonna do today,” he chuckled with a soft smile.

Whenever you had panic attacks, you’d always scratch your face to the point it bled. Finnick helped you get out of that mess. He led you to the stairs, always getting permission for you to go outside the bunker just to look at the stars whenever you had your panic attacks.

He led you up the stairs, at a slow pace to not startle you. “How was your day, my love?” He hummed, wrapping an arm around your back and rubbing it slowly with his hand.

Finnick waited a few minutes for you to calm a bit down, he knew whenever he started conversations it would take some time for you to answer. “O—Okay,” you stuttered out. “What was your favorite part of your day?” He asked you.

You twiddled with his other hand that held yours. Playing with the golden ring on his ring finger. You smiled softly. “waking up next to you,” you whispered. the tears from your eyes finally came to a stop, wet streaks visible on your cheeks with your puffy red eyes. “Really?” Finnick’s lips turn to a huge wide smile onto his face. You giggled softly and nodded. “Really.” You repeated.

The two of you finally got to the top, and both of you had to climb up the ladder. Finnick got up there first to open the trap door, and then you followed suit. He grabbed your hands to pick you up quicker, and then sat you on the dirt ground. He closed the trap door and placed grass over it.

The two of you walked and walked till you got to your safe log that was surrounded by trees and bushes, big enough to fit you and Finnick sitting on the green green fresh grass. You sat on the said grass, while Finnick sat on the log behind you.

You leaned back into him, getting comfortable as Finnick wrapped his arms around your waist. You grabbed ahold of his hands and started to play with them, while you heard Finnick counting the stars.

“You’re never gonna get them all,” you giggle out, looking up at him from your spot. He looked down at you, “you made me lose my spot.” He pouted. “How many stars did you have in counting just right now?” You asked.

“50. 50 stars.” Finnick hummed. You made a duck look face, moving your lips to signal to Finnick you wanted a kiss. He chuckled and leaned down to you, to kiss you softly. He pulled away, his eyes half open as he looked at you with nothing but love.

“I love you,” Finnick spoke, kissing your lips once more.

“I love you too.”

#finnick x y/n #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick x you #thg finnick #hunger games finnick #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #the hunger games katniss #katniss and peeta #katniss everdeen #katniss x reader #peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games peeta

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nuemanfilms · 2 months ago

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FUCK IT DEEP | S.W

Summary; Sam finds himself wanting to be corrupted by the demon staying with him and his brother, seems like she wants the same thing.

Content Warnings; creampie, piv (unprotected, don’t do that), heavy breeding kink, praise, dirty talk, demon!reader, mentions of Dean, pet names, sweet talk, Switch!Sam, teasing, no foreplay, size kink, belly bulge, brief mention of m!masturbation, slight fingering at the end.

A/N; i disappeared for two weeks, uh.. 1.7k WC

16+ I am not responsible for the content you consume under this age.

Sam and Dean had asked you to help them with a case in exchange for you staying at the bunker for a couple of days. Those days were hell on earth for Sam—no pun intended.

Your bickering with Dean wasn’t the problem. Dean not keeping up with his laundry resulting in you having to walk around the Bunker in a towel was the problem. It’s not like Sam didn’t enjoy the view- God, he loved it. It was just the predicament you always left him in.

Those lingering touches when he hands you coffee, how your fingers stay on his knuckles for more than needed, even if it was a couple seconds at least, he was getting hard on the spot. The way you looked at him, how you walked down the hallway like a runaway model… God, he had it bad.

Going to the bathroom to clean himself, muttering out some pathetic excuse that he was going to take a shower just wasn’t working anymore. He needed you, in more ways than one.

He was a hunter. He was supposed to hunt you down, stop you from causing chaos… you were a demon. Yet for some reason, that drew him in even more. You were like a forbidden fruit that he was begging to take a bite out of.

He didn’t care if you ruined his life, if anything, he wanted you to ruin his life. He’d gladly get on his knees if you asked. He’d do anything just for one sign of attraction towards him from you.

Dean noticed the glances, the tension every time you stepped into the kitchen with a towel covering your upper and lower half. He saw how Sam’s eyes lingered on your thighs for too long.

Sam wanted to feel those thighs wrapped around his waist while he shoved himself- Yeah, no.

It was another day, the last day you’d share with the brothers. Sam was relieved, but also disappointed that the days had gone by so fast.

Sam stood in the kitchen, his front pressed against the counter as he poured a cup of coffee into the mug. It wasn’t that bad of a day, he hadn’t seen you come out of your room yet. He did hear the shower running though, Dean was most likely still asleep. He never was an early bird.

His head perked up when the bathroom door opened, his eyes trailed down to run over your figure as you shut the door behind you. The towel wrapped clad around you, your steps so careful yet so alluring. He really hoped you didn’t notice him checking you out.

“Mornin’,” Sam redirected his eyes to the mug, he heard each footstep you made. They were cautious, but bold.

“Hey, Sammy…” His cheeks tinted at the sultry tone in your voice. You stood behind him, watching as he turned around to face you. Startled slightly by your presence.

He locked eyes with you, the size difference between him and your vessel was noticeable. If anything, it turned him on even more. He was tense, and he knew what teasing he was to face.

“I don’t bite, Sam. No need to be so… tense.” You teased him, a devilish smile curling on your lips. He managed to stutter out a response, he didn’t think he could get any more red. But of course, the universe was never in his flavor. He was obviously blushing, you could read him like a book.

“S-Sorry…” He murmured, looking anywhere but your face now.

The attraction you felt towards the younger Winchester was much more concealed than his own. The pet names you gave him, they were all a sign that he was oblivious to. You were always bold with what you wanted, yet you waited for the right time. Getting him cornered, Dean out of sight, and of course, making him flustered.

You leaned forward, your eyes gauging for his reaction. His own eyes widened, but he found himself unconsciously inching closer.

“What… What are you doing?” He breathed, you took his hands in your own, placing them on your hips. He hesitantly held the flesh beneath his fingers, his touch rough but gentle.

“It’s okay, Sam... it’s just us, remember? We’re all alone.” You reassured, your lips inched closer to his own. Inches away from finally connecting them. As much as Sam wanted this, hell, needed this… Dean was still in the Bunker. He could’ve walked in any time.

“Dean-“ You cut him off, pressing your finger to his lips.

“Fast asleep, your room’s down the hall…” His walls of resistance were crumbling. You were breaking them down just by the words spilling from your mouth.

Before you could react, Sam lifted you. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to carry you into his room.

He placed you down on the bed, your hands went up to rest in his hair. Tugging him closer so you could press your lips against yours. Sam let out a groan, his hands now willingly roaming your frame. He pressed his hips down into your core, you gasped against him. You could feel how much he was aching for you, for this.

You definitely should’ve done this sooner.

It seemed rushed, he trailed his lips down from your own to your neck, proceeding to press open mouthed kisses against your collarbone. He pulled the towel off from your form, lowering his head down so he could latch onto your nipple. Moans of pleasure erupted from your throat. You trailed your hands down his body, reaching to undo the leather of his belt.

Sam’s fingers moved to tweak at your nipples, his mouth focused on one breast before he moved to the other. Repeating his previous actions to your nipple he detached from.

“Sam, fuck- Get this damn belt off... I need you inside of me.” You whispered, your breaths heavy as he covered your hands with his own.

“Are you sure? You don’t want me to-“

“I don’t care. Fuck me. Now.” He nodded, making quick work to discard his denim.

He freed his cock from his boxers, spreading your legs apart with both hands. When the cold air hit your bare pussy, you whimpered. He smirked at that, “Was gonna eat this pretty pussy… but we’re both too desperate for that right now, aren’t we?” He teased, his voice shifted to a dominant tone. Seeing you laid out beneath him, fully exposed, it did things to him. His shyness was now pushed away, his dominance now evident.

He wrapped his hand around his shaft, pumping a few times before aligning with your entrance. He slid his tip up and down, teasing you. His head bumped against your clit once, you let out a moan.

“Don’t you dare tease me right now-“ He cut you off by pushing himself past your folds. You let out a moan in unison. He knew your vessel wasn’t a virgin, but jesus… how were you still so tight?

“Tight fucking pussy- God…” He groaned, his hand gripped your hip. Steadying you as he managed to get the rest of his length in. You could feel every vein, every inch. You knew the man was big, you saw him. But nothing would compare to how he stretched you out so deliciously.

His thumb circled your clit, attempting to loosen you up so he could fill you to the hilt. His eyes were drawn to how he was nestled inside of your cunt. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple in an attempt to soothe you.

“It’s gonna- shit… it’s gonna feel good in a minute, baby.” Sam cooed, he could see the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. He kissed your cheek, “See? Good girl…” He praised, he waited for your nod of consent for him to continue.

“You… You can move.” You felt so full, sure it’s been a while since you had some action… but you never took someone this big. No one could compare to the feeling of Sam’s girth inside of your pussy.

His hips snapped suddenly, you let out a cry. He was already establishing a pace. It was rough, yet his thrusts were calculated and even. He was providing you pleasure that you’d never felt in your lifetime.

“Fuck, you’re gripping me so tight, Honey… Can you feel me? I’m right about heeeereee…” Two of his fingers pressed down on the bulge in your tummy. You moaned and whined beneath him, crying his name, repeating it over and over like a damn mantra.

The creamy ring around the base of his cock had him groaning, seeing how you stretched so perfectly around his length as he moved in and out of you had him nearly falling apart right then and there. He held it though, he wasn’t going to let go until he felt you let go first.

“Sam, Sammy…” You sounded so dumbed down, your brain turning to mush as he used your body for all it’s worth. You squeezed his length, signaling you were close to finishing.

“Atta’ girl… C’mon, come for me. I know you wanna drain me, huh? Get this tight pussy filled with my cum, I'm gonna make you feel me for days, Sweetheart. Gonna fuck it so deep inside your little hole, hm?” Your eyes practically rolled in the back of your head. Your vision was blurry, and you felt that knot tighten in your belly. He was so deep… he was rearranging your guts it felt like. Fucking you so passionately, yet so messy at the same time.

“Mm… I want you to come inside me, Sammy—“ You moaned, when he punctuated a few more thrusts, you came apart. He felt that squeeze around his shaft and he stilled. Balls deep inside of your cunt as he emptied inside of you.

“Fuck, baby… you really needed that, didn’t you? Needed a thick cock stretching this pussy open… shit, took me so well.” He pulled out slowly, your mixed arousal flowed out of your abused hole. He took his middle finger, pushing as much of his release back inside as he could. You let out a tiny whimper, clearly sensitive, but you took it.

“Good fuckin’ girl, Sweetie.”

#sam winchester smut #supernatural #fem!reader #sam winchester #jared padalecki #sam winchester x female reader #demon!reader #sam winchester x reader

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kimberly-spirits13 · 3 months ago

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Dating Dean Winchester Brain Dump Headcannons

Warnings: it's a bit random and all over the place but it's 3am and I've got random thoughts

you've either known each other for a long time (since childhood or teen hood), or you meet on a hunt

Bobby probably introduced you two

You guys realized pretty soon that you'd be good friends based off your interests in music, sarcasm, hunting, etc.

it also helped that Dean thinks you're hot

poor boy tries not to care much about the superficial, but he can't help that it helps

once you get close, he lets you start driving Baby and really pays attention to every detail about you

He's got a cassette tape that has all of your favorite songs on it

when you're not paying attention, he'll pop it in and start playing it

It's labled something like "Y/N/N's favorites"

One of his favorite types of dates are simply driving around, heading into some random roadside diner when you're hungry, and staying out too late at night

He likes basically all types of physical touch

Please run your fingers through his hair or scratch his back

he'll melt and pass away

You always share a bed

Even when you weren't dating, you would sleep together for comfort

Dean runs warm and he knows you're not trying to suffocate, so he turns the AC on full blast to make sure you have to stay close

He likes when you steal his clothes

will purposely leave articles of clothing out for you to take

acts like he's not doing anything when he does it, but you always get the hint

Most of the time, Dean makes Sam ride in the back and you ride shotgun

He loves his brother, but he doesn't get the same level of comfort if you're not up there

He likes to hold your hand in any circumstance

keeps his hand on your thigh when driving around

always makes sure that you're out of the haunted/ sketchy places first

opens doors for you and walks on the sidewalk closest to the road

He likes playing little pranks on you so that when you get over being mad, he gets good post annoyed kisses

Schemes pranks against Sam with you and always will say something like "She made me do it!" when caught

Secretly likes to paint your nails and brush your hair

Dean would die before he admits it, but it's relaxing and he likes being close

he'd do a facemask with you at any time

especially when there's a great shower with like, sixteen shower heads

You're always comforting when he wakes up with a nightmare

Poor boy is always having nightmares and they're mostly about you or Sam dying

He's known to hyperventilate and break into hives if the dreams are bad enough

put him in a warm shower and wash his hair for him and he's peachy

He's probably got an emergancy pie stashed somewhere at all times

Dean thinks that true love is that you make his coffee right every time

Coffee is the only way that he can complete a hunt without dying

Speaking of which, if you get injured or anything on a hunt, he is all over it

Carries you back to Baby no latter if it's a papercut or being shot

Drives pretty recklessly trying to get back to the motel or bunker quickly

Sam will try to help, but Dean insists that he can do everything and will be the only one to patch you up

if he's also injured and can't help you, he's losing his mind

To him, there's nothing worse than not being able to take care of you when you need him

Sam has to tell him to calm down since you seeing him in distress stresses you out more than if Dean would just be a calm bleeding person

Dean likes to take time for himself, but always ends up cutting it short since he misses you/ thinks it would be a better time if you were there

He's got some sort of corny ring tone that always makes him cringe a bit when you call, but he thinks it's too funny to change

He gave you a nice bracelet for your birthday one time and he notices every time you wear it

it makes his heart sour every time he sees you wearing or using something he gave you

makes him feel accomplished/ he did something well

you're the ONLY one that is allowed to wear the leather jacket

he'd go insane if someone else did

When you're up late researching or chilling out, he loves being able to sit in silence as close as possible doing whatever it is you're doing

there's no need for words, it's enough to be together

Obnoxiously singing in the car together

Cleaning Baby together

you walk outside and die when you see him working on Baby

he knows it too and it's annoying

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #supernatural x y/n

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steor-ra · 3 months ago

Text

Yandere Superfam x Reader

The pregnancy was quite unexpected. Clark was so busy saving the galaxy this past month that he didn't have much time for Lois.

So when Clark discovers that Lois is pregnant after attempting to tell him several times and being ditched before she really had a chance, he feels terrible. How could he not have known his gorgeous wife was pregnant all along? Clark should have known, given his superhearing abilities.

He is also disappointed with Jon for not telling him sooner.

It's a given that as soon as he discovers of the pregnancy, he will pamper Lois to make up for every time she tried to tell him and to support her throughout her pregnancy.

Jon is thrilled to be a big brother; he has always wanted a younger sibling. It gets lonely when Damian isn't there to spend out with him, so the idea of having someone to hang out with every day is exciting. Jon has so much to teach his younger sibling.

When you are born, they're immediately in love. You look so cute and little in their arms, and they never want to let go. You've got them wrapped around your chubby little fingers.

Your nursery room is abandoned as soon as they take you home; you don't need it anyway, you could just sleep in your parents room, just cuddle in their arms safe. You would sometimes sleep in Jon's room if they'd let him

Their hearts fall into pieces everytime you cry especially if you get hurt by something or someone. It barely improved Superman's morale in the world and ensured that the planet would be the safest place for his baby to walk, if yk what I mean.

And don't get me started on the day you received your first shot as a baby. Jon was crying harder than you ever have, and Clark, who is holding you, is glaring so intensely at the doctor that if it's not the laser burning holes at the doctor, I don't know what it is, Lois is there to make sure that Clark doesn't actually burn holes at the doctor.

Jon is the best brother you'll ever have, and he will make sure of it. He dislikes sharing your attention with folks his age, save for his friend Damian, who may also be your friend! Just don't go too far and treat his friend as a brother figure, otherwise Jon will go insane. As I previously stated, Jon dislikes sharing his baby sibling; he is the only one you may refer to as brother; no one else.

Your father, Clark, will do everything in the world to make sure that his baby is happy at all times; if not, at least more frequently. He can't stay strict on your adorable face, especially when you make grabby hands to get what you want. It takes all to resist cooing and kissing your chubby cheeks, which he eventually can't take it anymore and just ends up doing anyhow.

Meanwhile, Lois is a little strict with you; she doesn't want you to grow up bratty, although she believes you will never be since her little cute baby is too gentle and nice to be that kind of child, so her strictness is not as frequent. She will also spoil her baby in the same way as the boys do; her baby deserves the best. Period.

They love you so much that they're willing to give up on everything if it means saving you from any danger

They also have all of the documentaries of your first time events, from the day you were held by your mother to the first day of school.

As you grew older, they became more paranoid

There are moments when you are put in a life-or-death situation, but luckily for you, there are many superheroes who are willing to save you because they are terrified of Superman, the man of steel, turning into bunkers.

The heroes connected to the league already know a lot about you, most likely because Superman can't stop talking about his baby whenever he's with someone or in a meeting. It's terrible, especially since the league is discussing some serious dangers, and then Superman comes in and says, "This is bad for my baby; I wonder what they're doing right now."

The joker kidnaps you one day, frightening your family to the core. Clark and Jon are both unable to hear or see you. They have no idea where you are. Lois was already crying when she couldn't find you in the house; she cried till her throat hurt, and that's when you understand something is serious when Superman calls Batman for help, dilated eyes, disheveled hair, and hyperventilating. Which Batman tried to calm him down and called for the league help him find you before Superman goes insane and starts flipping the world upside down. And when they finally found you, your family locked you up in the house forever.

Lois hugged her babbling baby who is unaware that you're never ever going to have a glimpse of the world ever again. It's the only way to make you safe, if you don't want them to lock you up in a bubble.

(A/n: send requests!)

#yandere justice league #yandere superfam #yandere superfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere superman #superfam x reader #superman x reader #yandere dc x reader #– thoughts! ☕

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