#dean only prays for sam

[fandom-hoarder]

happy wincest wednesday! what is something the boys would do for each when the other isn't looking or paying attention just to be nice?

Hahhh... sorry for letting this sit so long; I have been extremely distracted. Idk if it's appropriate to say "happy" today, but it does so happen to be wincest wednesday and well... this probably wasn't the kind of answer you expected at the time, but here's what this makes me think about today...

~

Dean wakes up -- later than he's been used to most of his life, but earlier than he's grown accustom. He can feel that Sam's still in bed, and guesses it's before Sam's 6am run. But then the hairs on his body raise inexplicably, and he sits up with the urgency of a house fire.

"What's going on?"

And Sam's answer is tired, red-rimmed eyes and his phone wordlessly turned so Dean can see the screen.

Dean feels detached from the bigger issues of the election as Sam cycles through the stages of grief throughout the morning. Dean's only concern is Sam.

Sam tries to start getting ready for his run. "They haven't really even finished the count yet. There's still a chance for a miracle in the mail-in votes," he says, but his shoe drops from his hand when he tries to pick it up, and he just stares at it. Dean wonders if Sammy is thinking about their track record in miracles.

So Dean agrees, "Of course, come on, this guy again? No way. The blue guys'll clinch it." And he helps Sam put on his shoes and then puts on his own, pulling Sam out of the bunker with him and bracing against the early morning chill, only to be met with a balmy, pre-sunrise 50 degrees.

Halfway through their jog, Sam suddenly breaks his sync with Dean, kicking at a tree with a guttural growl and the full force of his foot as if he was wearing his hunting boots. Dean cringes.

"Maybe if I'd found a way for us to vote without getting arrested -- we've broken so many laws anyway, what's a little voter fraud, right?! But no. And now look!"

He aims for the tree again, but Dean catches his leg with an 'oof.'

"C'mon, Sam, you know that's ridiculous. The two of us wouldn't have turned Kansas around by ourselves. You can't help that you still have faith in people, Sammy. You wouldn't be you if you didn't."

"Because I'm stupid," Sam says bitterly, and turns around to jog back to the bunker.

Dean follows him, but can't quite keep up this time. When he reaches the bunker, Sam is on the phone in the kitchen.

"I'm tellin' you, Garth, it's just like that time with Dick Roman when they drugged everybody to turn us into food. You really haven't heard anything? Don't you think it's completely crazy to believe his followers aren't under some kind of supernatural influence, for him to get away with all the horrible shit he does?"

"Well, maybe you could try asking Rowena---" Garth's tinny voice suggests as Dean pulls the phone away and hangs up.

"Dean--" Sam complains, reaching for the phone dispassionately.

"You know we already looked into this asshole. He's 100% human evil, Sammy."

Sam collapses onto the table bench, hand over his face. "Claire's already texted me twelve times. I don't even know what to say to her."

Dean looks at Sams phone and sees that there's a voicemail from Patience too. Pursing his lips, he turns off Sam's phone and pockets it. He sidles up behind Sam, cupping the back of Sam's neck and squeezing like he's scruffing him.

Sam takes a deep, hitching breath and holds it, breathing it out long and slow as Dean slides his hands down to dig his thumbs into the knots Sam's formed over the last twelve anxious hours.

"Well I guess," Sam starts, softly, "At least now he can't run again after this."

Dean starts to glimpse the promise of relief in his belly, before Sam adds with a self deprecating laugh: "As long as he doesn't change the law about term limits."

Dean squeezes Sam's shoulders, and keeps working at the tension until his hands get sore. Then he makes them breakfast, and makes sure Sam gets something in his stomach besides coffee.

But after Sam mechanically finishes the eggs and pancakes, Dean adds a couple splashes of whiskey when he tops up Sam's coffee -- after which, Sam says he should finally take his shower, but decides to lay his head down on the table for a minute and falls asleep.

Dean does his best to make sure Sam won't wake up with an even gnarlier backache, and does the dishes quickly before sneaking into the archives for the ingredients to contact Rowena.

But Rowena is no help to him if it doesn't come with a deal, and Dean has finally learned enough to know Sam wouldn't find the trade fair.

Dean lets Rowena go and turns Sam's phone back on, refreshing the election map. It still shows a handful of states at less than 80% reported, despite the bold banner at the top announcing a winner, and Dean looks at it in disgust.

A new text notification chimes in, and Dean sees Claire's name and a preview of her text: "I can get Alex to teach us how to do backroom abor" and Dean can guess what the rest of the text says.

Dean meets Sam in the hallway, calling for him.

"Hey," Sam says, sliding on his socked feet as he sees Dean and stops short. "I heard my phone. Was that Claire?" He snatches his phone from Dean and immediately starts scrolling, reading Claire's texts under his breath and dancing his fingers across the keys in a sudden fury. Quickly, Sam goes from upright to hunched like a question mark over his phone, shuffling restlessly up and down the corridor and mumbling about hrt supplies.

"Sammy, will ya take a breath? I'll knock over a pharmacy before I make ya go without your shots. --They'll still be makin' it for cis dudes, right?"

"Yeah. Probably. And I know you would, Dean, but I'm not worried about me," Sam says, not looking up. "Claire's going to scope out some manufacturing facilities with the girls and we're gonna set up an underground hrt resource. I wonder if there's anyone in our network who could work out a small manufacturing setup. It's too bad Kevin...or Charlie..." Sam mumbles down into nothing as he keeps typing, and Dean's stomach clenches.

He herds Sam, still typing, down to the showers, and gets the steam going while he strips Sam down and finally pulls the phone from his grasp. Dean pulls Sam down to him and goes up on his tiptoes to kiss Sam's forehead. He swears he can smell the salt of Sam's tears, and when he looks at Sam's face again they shimmer on his cheeks like the silvery scars of his top surgery.

Gently, Dean pushes Sam into the shower and under the water, carving his hands through Sam's hair to wet it down.

"Didn't think we'd be going through another apocalypse again so soon."

"Or ever," Dean agrees gruffly, grabbing Sam's special shampoo. "But this one isn't on us, Sam."

Sam closes his eyes, somehow still admonishing even as more tears join the water on his face. Dean's sudsy fingers scrub his scalp soothingly. "Dean. It's what we do."

"HRT, ok, that's one thing. But clandestine abortions?"

Sam snorts. "Alex can teach us."

"Us?"

Sam leans to rinse under the water when Dean directs him. "We'll cache abortion pills for the easy stuff, but we should be prepared to do more. We've taken bigger risks on DIY, and at least we'll get some training on this. Soon there might not even be any other options..."

So that's how Dean finds himself on his knees. Alone in his room. Praying to Jack as Sam sets up some type of mission control in the library.

"Please, Jack, I know you said you're hands off, an' all, but I think you should make an exception for Sammy. Just this once. He's had a lifetime of Hell-- more'n a lifetime-- and this is supposed to be our retirement. So can ya chip in a little for his 41st half-birthday -- which you missed, by the way -- and fix this freaking election so we don't hafta spend our retirement in another friggin' apocalypse?"

A weird feeling comes over Dean as he prays, buzzing through him with warm, alien reassurance. And as his stomach starts to unclench, he adds: "and hey, I'm not expecting ya to fix all of human history-- we're still team free will down here-- but throw in some worldwide human rights and extended ceasefires while you're at it. You missed a few of his actual birthdays, too, y'know."

Five minutes later, Dean's knees are cracking as he stands up and sprints down the halls towards the sound of Sam's bellowed, "Oh my god. Dean!"

Sam is gaping blearily at his laptop in the library.

"What's up? You okay?"

Sam can only gesture at his laptop, where the screen is displaying the final results of the count, and the Dems managed to pull a sudden upset, tilting the final count to their favor by two swing states after the paper ballots were counted.

"Ho-ly shit," Dean says, almost unable to believe it himself.

"And that's not all!" Sam says with a hint of bright incredulity, and scrolls down his news page.

"ALL the firearms disappeared?!" Dean asks, reaching for his gun automatically but realizing he'd never armed himself today. "Bombs, too? How?"

He knows how, but he still feels shocked. He'll have to check their stashes to see if Jack disarmed even them -- Dean really needs to get better at wording his wishes. They can't just be naked out here if monsters still exist.

But Sam answers Dean obliviously, "No idea! There's already a bunch of conspiracy theories on social media, each one crazier and yet more plausible than the last. Tucker Carlson already uploaded an AI shortfilm about how it was demons---" Sam turns to Dean suddenly and Dean cuts him off before he can speak it.

"It wasn't Rowena."

When Sam frowns at him in confusion, Dean begrudgingly elaborates, "I tried asking her for a favor while you were asleep, but she said that big of an ask would require a deal. You know I know better than that." (Now.)

Sam looks outrageously skeptical, and Dean feels offended. "Dean, people are reporting resurrections and olive trees sprouting full grown from rubble. Razor wire around global borders turning to wildflowers. Fields of grain in Ukraine. Cereal stalks cropping up in desolate Sudan farms, sprouted with grain and full heads of cooked kisra..." Sam keeps scrolling past miraculous headlines. "And these videos don't look like AI."

Dean bites his lip, wondering-- hoping-- that this will bring an end to the suffering, and not just be a bandaid before things continue going to shit. He focuses on the headlines and video titles quickly scrolling by, watching for anything about peace agreements or troops retreating. Screw free will, actually, just a little bit.

"D-Dean... do you think... Jack?"

Dean watches the weight of the world ease off Sammy's shoulders, infinitesimally, and doesn't resist the urge to wrap his arms around Sam, kissing his temple.

"Maybe, Sammy. Maybe."

[4giorno]

me at the end of s14

[liamgallaghermpreg]

s1-3 are truly the platonic ideal of supernatural i miss it so much…

[godlesscity]

i think watching goodbye stranger changed me as a person

[spn2006]

the fact that eric kripke isn't even christian really adds something to the way christianity is depicted on supernatural. because its really not about being christian at all, but about living in america, a country dominated by christianity, and having to decide for yourself how to handle that. faith is huge in supernatural, and the mythology of the show is very bible-centric, but notably, christ is never there. even sam, who starts out revering the angels, who once said he prays every night, doesn't actually call himself a christian or imply that he believes in jesus--the show is steeped in christianity and biblical lore and yet neither sam nor dean are christians. in fact, over and over again the church itself is depicted as a haunted house that sam and dean will only ever enter as strangers, as outsiders. priests, preachers, faith healers, chapels, crypts, etc. are all just iconography that create an intense sense of unease that sam and dean respond to instantly. as a jew, its very relatable. an essential part of living in america when you're not christian is that exact sense of unease, of knowing that the culture of your country has ensured that you'll get knocked over by christianity no matter where you go, that you'll see hundreds of people truly believing they're good people while doing awful things in the name of their god, and you have no choice but to confront that. kripke gets it

[zepskies]

Headcanon: Sleepwalking

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader, Jason Teague x Reader

AN: @jackles010378 This one's for you, hun! 😘

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Mainly fluff, implied sex, nakedness

HC: How Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Jason would react to you sleepwalking.

Dean Winchester

At first, Dean can't understand why you hesitate to sleep with him after, well, sleeping with him.

Did he read you wrong? Is just this something casual for you? The thought makes him swallow, jaw clenching, but if that's how you want it...he can try to be okay with that.

Seeing the hurt he's trying to bury behind his eyes, you settle down beside him in bed and stroke his cheek. You assure him that you're staying. Even though in the back of your mind, you're hoping and praying.

Please, God. Not tonight...

It happens around 3:00 in the morning.

Dean feels you stir on your side of his bed. He's a light sleeper at the best of times, so he turns to see you tossing the covers off your half-naked body and getting out of bed.

"Where're you going?" he says, playfully trying to grab your hand. But you slip right out of his hold without answering him, padding to the door and leaving the room.

Still half-asleep, but now thoroughly bewildered, Dean's brows furrow, and he gets up to follow you. You would never walk out of a room wearing just his shirt and nothing else, your bare feet slapping the floor with every step. He hopes Sam isn't up and about at this hour.

It takes him a while, but Dean finds you in the kitchen. There you seem to be trying to put together a bowl of Cheerios. The box is already on the counter. You're opening cupboards and leaving them open, your hands searching for a bowl.

"What'cha doin' sweetheart? Little midnight snack action? I can get behind that," Dean says.

You don't even seem to hear him. Dean watches you grab a mug instead of a bowl...and the orange juice instead of milk.

It all goes downhill from there.

"I did what?" you exclaim the next morning. "See! This is why I didn't wanna tell you."

You cover your face in your hands in mortification while Dean rubs your back, chuckling so hard he can't even breathe. You smack him in the stomach, but it doesn't stop his wheezing. He kisses you on the cheek to placate you.

"It's okay, baby. I didn't know coffee grounds and O.J. went so well together."

Beau Arlen

The first night you stay over at his air stream trailer, you warn him ahead of time while you sit beside him on the narrow bed.

"Just so you know, I um..." Getting out the words are difficult. You give him a wan smile in embarrassment, but he's listening intently, waiting for you to finish.

You sigh and decide to bite the bullet. "I tend to sleepwalk."

Just as you predicted, Beau's brows shoot up in surprise.

"Really?" he says, a smile starting to curve his lips.

Your lips twitch at a smile as well. "Yes, so I don't wanna hear any wisecracks. It runs in my family, unfortunately."

"Wow, a whole family of sleepwalkers, huh?" he muses, rubbing a hand over his bearded chin. "Gotta say, I'd like to see that--"

You cut off his chuckling with a shove of his shoulder.

But that night, Beau is startled awake when you trip over his shoes left on the floor, beside a small pile of his clothes and yours that you two hadn't bothered to pick up.

You aren't hurt too badly -- just a bruised forehead and very confused the next morning.

But from then on, Beau takes your condition more seriously.

Every night, he makes sure his place is clean and organized so you don't trip on anything.

He puts a child lock on the door in case you try to open it while sleepwalking, and he keeps the sliding door to the bathroom open in case you need to get in there.

Most importantly, he locks his guns away in a safe inside his nightstand.

His objective is making sure you're safe and comfortable whenever you're with him.

Though he can't help teasing you a little bit (a lot) when you rearrange his entire sock and underwear drawer in your sleep, perfectly folded and color coded.

"Well, thanks very much, darlin'," he grins.

You shake your head, covering your warm, blushing face.

"Shut up."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

"What the fuck?" Ben wipes his bleary eyes, but he still can't believe what he's seeing.

He watches in bewilderment when he finds you in the kitchen in the middle of the night. Completely naked. Frying up some bacon to go with your toast, apparently.

Not that naked cooking doesn't appeal to him. In fact, the sight of you from behind -- your hair loose over your shoulders, the curve of your waist and the gentle swell of your hips, bare ass and legs, and the hint of side boob while your hands move deftly with the pan and silver utensil...

It's arousing, even erotic, making his cock twitch in his sweatpants.

And it actually fits pretty well with one of his fantasies that he's been wanting to try out with you.

But this is also more than a little fucking strange. You're usually dead to the world until at least 9:00 a.m.

"Sweetheart, what're you doing?" he asks. He approaches you from behind and rests a hand on your lower back as he peers over your shoulder, but you don't answer him.

When a large spark of grease pops in the pan, you barely even flinch when it hits your arm and burns you.

Instinctively, he knows something's wrong. He grabs the pan out of your hand and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you away from the crackling grease. He turns off the stove and steps back with you in his arms.

"Hey, are you hearing me? What the fuck's going on here?" he asks.

Your eyes seem glazed over, until he (gently) slaps at your cheek.

"Hey."

Finally, you blink faster a few times, take a deeper breath, and glance up at him. "Hey..."

Your brows furrowing, you look around the room in confusion. Your eyes widen when you look down at your naked body. You gasp and cling to his arms. "What the hell?!"

"Were you fucking sleepwalking?" Ben asks, his lips twitching in amusement and incredulity all at once.

"Oh my God, you tell me!" you exclaim. This has never happened to you in your life! What the hell is going on?

He leads you back to the bedroom, and after putting your pajamas back on, you inspect the pill bottle on your nightstand. Ben gave it to you to help knock out the spell of insomnia you've been having.

After reading the list of side effects, you toss the bottle at your man's chest, even knowing he'll barely feel it.

"This is the last time I let you give me Ambien!"

Bonus! Jason Teague

What the hell did you take? Jason wonders, as he tries to keep you from unclipping your seatbelt.

The two of you are on a plane halfway to France on vacation.

You're a nervous flyer, but you just woke up from a dead sleep after taking that little pill an hour ago.

And you're apparently "feeling happy," in your words, your head rolling onto his shoulder with a giggle.

"Jase," you stage whisper (loudly). You raise a finger and swirl it around the air. "My face is hot. I'm hot. I'm hot for...you."

You tweak the tip of his nose.

He laughs a bit nervously, despite his genuine amusement. A mother looks their way with a raised brow. She puts a pair of headphones on her little boy and gives him an iPad to focus on. Jason shoots her an awkward smile and wave. Then he focuses back on you.

"Okay. Sweetheart, I like the enthusiasm, but I think you just need to sleep off the rest of whatever this is," he says. He grabs a blanket to cover you with.

"Hmm, okay."

Eventually you settle down and snuggle into him. He smiles in relief, soothing a hand over your hair and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He soon falls asleep himself.

When he wakes, you're no longer sitting beside him. His eyes popping open wide, he sits up and leans out of the aisle. He doesn't see you at all in the first class cabin.

Jason shoots up out of his seat and hurries down the other way, through the curtain where business and economy sit.

Sure enough, a flight attendant is following you up and down the aisle trying to get your attention, but you don't even seem to be hearing him.

"Ma'am? Can you hear me?" the attendant tries. He seems to be getting frustrated. "There's turbulence, miss. It's not safe for you to be--"

Jason hurries to you and grabs your arm just as the plane begins to tremble and shake. He knows there's something wrong if you're not freaking out right now. You should be clinging to him like a koala, not wearing a blank expression on your face as you glance up at him.

"Aw shit, you're sleepwalking," he realizes breathlessly. What the hell did you take?

He knows you told him, but now he feels guilty for not really listening as he and the flight attendant help you back to your seat.

Once you're clipped back into a seatbelt along with him, Jason sighs in relief now that he knows you're safe and sleeping more peacefully. Looks like you two are going to have an adventure before you even get to Paris.

He fishes out the little bottle from your bag and reads the label.

Xanax. Jesus Christ. One thing's for sure, Jason is throwing it out when you guys land.

You'll thank him when you wake up.

AN: 😂 I had more fun than I thought with this one! Let me know what you think, and if there are other characters you'd like to see the next time I do one of these headcanons. 😘💜

Join Patreon 🌟

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Beau Arlen Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Jason Teague Masterlist

Main Masterlist 

Dean, Beau + Soldier Boy Tag List

If you would like to get notified every time I post a story, feel free to follow my side blog @zepskieswrites with notifications on so you don't miss out. 💜

@spnwoman @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@rizlowwritessortof @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx

@mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken

@deanfreakingwinchester @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore

@agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester

@tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant

@xxlaynaxx @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @roseblue373

@lacilou @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @agalliasi @deans-spinster-witch

@venicesem @xsophianicolex @my-stories-vault @syrma-sensei @just-levyy

@brianochka @galcrunch @branj19 @justsom3onesworld @lunaticgurly

@globetrotter28 @jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean @hobby27

@spnexploration @deans-baby-momma @nic-kolas @king-of-milf-lovers @pizzagirlxnsfwx

@malindacath @violetlilysunshine @tsofo26 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @k-slla

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @torchbearerkyle @mrlonelycat @deans-daydream

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso

@liopleurodean @kmc1989 @kaleldobrev @brujaporfavor @xiphoidbones

@heartlessdelusions @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @nyotamalfoy @ghostslillady @siampie

@sanscas @jad3djay @iwishiwas-sleeping @jessjad @angelbabyyy99

@pieandmonsters @cevansbaby-dove @gabavaldman @peytongoose @deansimpala

@mrsjenniferwinchester @twinkleinadiamondsky @ultimatecin73 @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @lhymer1995

@taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj @nicksalchemy1 @onlyangel-444 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato @arcannaa

@kayleighwinchester @stoneyggirl2 @spnfamily-j2 @mostlymarvelgirl @artemys-ackles

@lovelyunjinn @sexyvixen7 @mistressofallthingsgeeky @iloveyou2mia @superbouquetgarden

@whimsicalcherry @samslvrgirl

[chevroletdean]

backstory stuff (req.) ── ✮⋆˙

pairing: dean x fem!reader genre: fluff to note/warnings: objectifying dean bc he looks edible, shameless ogling, kissing and making out, cussing word count: 2.5k a/n: tysm to @midnight--raine for requesting this! i definitely had the "blablabla place name proper name backstory stuff" audio stuck in my head writing this, hence the title for this drabble; btw i, too, would not be able to focus. other than that, this is written in 3rd person pov, which is actually my preferred style of writing/reading.

“Don’t forget the pie,” Dean called out, just before the door closed shut with a thud. That was about the last coherent sentence she was able to make out – and not because what followed was inaudible or anything like that. The priorities of her focus have simply… shifted.

Plus, and that was a much more favorable explanation for her own conscience, silence filled the space currently. Usually silence between them was comfortable, but at that moment she felt like her heart was hammering against her chest so intensely that the sound echoed off the walls, and like her blood was rushing through her veins was as loud as a waterfall in her ears.

With Sam off to buy some much needed food, she and Dean were left behind in the motel room, the space of which suddenly seemed awfully cramped. Ironic, considering how insistent she had been on not minding to share a room with the brothers, despite Sam’s double-inquiry if they should rent separate ones:

“They have another spare room,” Sam said.

“It’s fine, Sam,” she replied.

“Are you sure?” Sam followed up.

“Positive,” she confirmed with a nod.

“Dean might snore again and–”

Cue his older brother: “Speak for yourself, Sammy!”

“One room is enough, Sam,” she chuckled, clearly amused by the familiar bickering.

Two beds and a couch were plenty of space, after all, and it would only be for a night – whoever lost at rock-paper-scissors (Dean, of course) would survive a couple of hours on a couch.

Except she wasn’t sure if she could even make it through the next thirty to forty minutes.

This case was a tricky one and her attention span was pretty much dead as is, especially on an empty stomach. In hindsight, she still regretted grumbling about being hungry. Maybe she should’ve volunteered to make the trip to the convenience store instead of Sam. Then she wouldn’t be stuck here, making a fool of herself.

Neither the tablet in her lap nor the books sprawled around her on the bed were of interest to her anymore. Not with her blood sugar low. Not with too many frustrating hours of not finding anything. And most importantly:

Not with Dean sitting on the couch right across from her.

Not with the way his hand was holding his book open in his lap, long fingers nestled right in the joint of the pages, wedged in the folds in a way that shouldn’t look half as erotic as it did to her. Christ, she had to snap out of it.

As if on cue, Dean cleared his throat, startling her to the point of flinching. Her panicked eyes darted away from his hands and to his face while she silently begged – more like downright prayed – he hadn’t caught her staring.

His eyes remained glued to the pages, unbothered as ever and indicating the coincidental nature of his actions. Relieved, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Not that the fear of getting caught made her stop gawking at him. And, honestly, could anyone blame her? Nobody.

Not with the way he rolled up his sleeves, exposing freckles and veins on his arms, which he – to make matters worse – just had to stretch out, first forward, then upward, his muscles flexing. Not with the way he tipped his head back too, straining his neck until it gave a soft pop and he gave a soft groan.

Snapping out of it was no longer an option. Except it had to be. Dean and her were friends, partners in crime only in a jokeful and strictly platonic matter. In a poor attempt to distract herself, she decided to speak up. Anything to disrupt this silence, the tension of which was as palpable as it was torturous for her.

“If the couch is too uncomfortable, you can have my bed,” she offered, watching as he shifted around on the cushions. Lost game or not, Dean was the one who always had to endure hours behind the wheel and she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about denying his sore body the comfort of a proper mattress.

“Worried for me, sweetheart?” He scoffed with a teasing grin that made her simultaneously roll her eyes and feel the tips of her ears turn red.

“You’re the one cracking your joints like you’re suffering from arthritis,” she huffed.

“Nah, ‘s fine,” he mumbled in response, rotating his shoulders briefly, before redirecting his focus to his book.

Silence befell the room once more and she had to admit his diligence was admirable, compared to her own. She was still way too distracted to think about the case, while he was purposefully flipping through the pages. His brows were knitted together in deep concentration, those emerald eyes of his squinted slightly as he skimmed over the words. Not to mention his mouth.

Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of his tongue poking out. Its tip ran along the seam and over his bottom lip briefly, moistening the skin there into a glossy state. As if their pink shade wasn’t mesmerizing enough to look at already. His pearly whites followed close, biting the glistening skin of his lower lip, sucking it in for a second, before releasing it with a click of his tongue.

How soft those lips would probably feel, she wondered. She bet they were warm. They probably tasted like whiskey.

Their shape was worth obsessing over, too – plump and full, the soft curve of his cupid’s bow so perfect it might’ve as well been painted by an artist. The left corner of his lips curled upwards suddenly, his mouth forming words, the content of which went straight over her head. She registered the sound of his voice, but the actual syllables fell on deaf ears.

She was so busy observing the movement of his lips that she didn’t realize he wasn’t just mumbling to himself, but actually talking to her. Only when he tilted his head and said her name did her eyes widen.

“Sorry,” she uttered, her own voice breathless and strained and her throat feeling tight. And so very dry, no matter how often she’d try to swallow the lump in there. “What was that?”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up and his gaze wandered down on her, swiftly.

“I said: Could you look up–,” he repeated, but interrupted himself mid sentence with a sigh and a sheepish grin. “Nevermind, give me that.”

Discarding his book onto the coffee table, Dean lifted himself off of the couch and made his way over to her bed with a confident stride. He plopped down right next to her. Her breath nearly hitched in her throat as she felt the mattress sink slightly beneath them, but she didn’t resist as he reached for her tablet.

Usually she would’ve protested at him touching her stuff without asking, but the subtle brush of his fingers against her own sent an electric jolt down her spine that made her forget all her words. Either oblivious to her reaction or simply not caring, Dean proceeded to type away on the screen. She figured he must’ve had an epiphany and was trying to look up a possible solution to whatever creature they were searching for. But with every fiber of her searching for the details of Dean’s body next to hers, she couldn't care less about any monster.

His lips were moving again. That is to say, he was speaking, but the auditive part thereof blended into the background while the visual aspect grasped her full attention. She couldn’t help it; up close the view was even more alluring.

She thought she recognized the vowels O and E in there somewhere, though her reception of that was purely based on what speech patterns she thought she saw his mouth produce.

“Huh?” She asked, which made him erupt in a short laugh. That sound she definitely perceived. Not only with her ears but also with her heart, which skipped yet another beat.

“You’re not a great thinker on an empty stomach, eh?” Dean teased, gently nudging his elbow against hers and turning the iPad for her to look at. Whatever he was showing her on the screen, she didn’t care. She couldn’t bring herself to care. Instead, her eyes remained glued to him, albeit by now her gaze had at least wandered back to his eyes.

“Or maybe you’re hungry for something else,” he spoke, in such a bold and direct tone that she nearly jumped.

“What?” This time she wasn’t asking because she didn’t hear him, but precisely because his words had been loud and clear.

“No offense, but you’ve basically been gawking at me like you want a bite.”

Oh, fuck, he did catch her staring. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, but she struggled to come up with a snarky response on the spot. All she could do was scoff coyly.

“Have not,” she puffed, her body language betraying her even now as her eyes remained glued to his, despite her flustered state. “You wish.”

That’s what this was, right? Bickering, bantering, teasing – they’d always throw quips at each other playfully. Albeit they usually weren’t remotely close to touching a subject like this. Whatever this was, even. Romance? Longing? The aforementioned hunger?

Dean’s voice dropped an octave as he echoed her half tongue-tied denial. “Have not?” He was so smug about it too, victorious grin on those irresistible lips, mischievous spark in his green eyes, tone laced with mockery. “What’re you so flustered for then?”

“I’m not flustered, shut up,” she groaned, before turning her head away from him.

Or trying to, anyway. She was stopped in her tracks by Dean’s hand, his knuckles nestled just beneath her chin and tipping her head back. Just like that, she froze. Her heart froze. Time itself froze. Instinctively she held her breath and she did not dare to move a muscle.

His breath was a warm summer’s breeze against her skin, yet it made her shiver. His whisper tickled her senses — How was it possible for a voice to be as smooth as velvet and gravelly enough to make her tremble at the same time, anyway? “Then I’m sure you don’t mind me doing this?” She was pretty sure there was nothing Dean could’ve done right then and there that she would mind, flustered or not.

His knuckles brushed against her jawline, fingers opening slowly and cupping her cheek properly this time. As he pulled her closer, she couldn’t help but find his ministrations surprisingly tender. If she didn’t know it any better, she’d say Dean Winchester, notoriously known for being a flirtatious womanizer with an inflated ego, was just as nervous as she was. There was a tremble in his fingertips, a slight twitch in the flutter of his long lashes. A flicker of emotions in his darkened pupils.

Perhaps it was her imagination, or maybe she was projecting her own agitation onto him.

Either way, it was on her to fill that space between them. As if on instinct, her body moved on its own, leaning forward, closing her eyes, capturing his lips with her own. Even though the kiss was chaste, she already knew Dean’s pillowy lips were like a soft cloud she wanted to sink into and get lost in. His mouth was, as she had guessed, sweet and smokey with whiskey.

Their lips brushed together, tentatively at first. His fingers gently carded through her hair. The warmth that had blossomed in her chest lingered even as she pulled back again, just enough to be able to look into his eyes again.

“Who’s flustered now?” she teased within a whisper, the pink color on her cheeks betraying her confident act. However, she definitely had a point, considering that Dean’s flushed shade matched her own.

He lunged forward with enough force to pin her down onto the mattress. The sudden fierceness had her grasp onto his broad shoulders, pulling him down with her. His mouth was on hers again in an instant, hot and searing and with the intent to devour her whole. They breathed each other in, their lungs craving the depth of the kiss more than oxygen itself. Raw desire replaced the initial shyness of their first experimental peck. Dean’s tongue moved against hers as if he was trying to erase anything else from her mind. She kissed him back with equal fervor, finally bursting the bubble of endlessly long yearning and pining.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted t’do this,” Dean slurred as if drunk on her taste, his words muffled by the silky texture of her lips.

His hands traced down her sides, outlining a curve for her that her body willingly arched into. She pulled him impossibly closer and closer still, even when his mouth proceeded to wander down her jaw, down her neck. He marked a path down the column of her neck until his teeth grazed her throat to pull broken gasps and mewls from within. The meek sounds fueled him. She was practically sending him on a mission to coax all the pretty noises from her puffy, kiss-bitten lips. She was an instrument, his fingers strumming her chords. She was his favorite song.

“Should’ve done this a long time ago,” he purred and the rumble of his chest buzzed straight into her heart, down her spine all the way through her core.

“Agreed,” was the simple and only response she was able to choke out.

Her shaky fingers tightened their grip on his shirt, the fabric wrinkling under her impatient pulling and tugging. One hand snaked around his shoulders, finding home in the nape of his neck as she allowed her fingertips to comb through the tresses of his hair. Touching him was grounding, while the low growl she was able to draw from him had her feel all dizzy and fuzzy.

Dean lifted his head again to crash his lips into hers with newfound vigor. Their hands were everywhere, running over every plane of muscle, every hill and valley to the point of their limbs tangling together messily. Nothing could separate them from their magnetized state.

Except the rustling of keys at the door. As quickly as they had found each other, their lips withdrew from one another. Both her and Dean quickly sat up, faces flushed and chests heaving with ragged breaths. He cleared his throat while she busied her shaky fingers with smoothing over her hair. By the time Sam returned and closed the door behind him, they had reluctantly pulled away. The inches between them were as sobering as Sam’s voice.

“They were out of apple pie, here’s cherry,” Sam sighed, placing the plastic bag onto the coffee table. He glanced over to the two, his eyes flickering back and forth between them with wonder. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to piece together the clues. Their flushed faces, Dean’s disheveled hair, her messy shirt.

“I think I had enough sweets for today,” Dean muttered half-awkwardly towards his brother and with a half-smug wink towards her.

credit & links: ao3 ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ request here

taglist: @ladysparkles78

comment a green heart 💚 to be added to the dean x reader taglist (please note: ageless blogs will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts)

[melissa-kenobi]

🎃 Kinktober 2024 🎃 Dean Winchester + Mirrors

Hii, to kick off Kinktober 2024, we've got Dean Winchester first.

Under 18s, DNI.

Warnings: Mirror Sex, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Size Kink, Breeding, Dean Winchester himself.

Word Count: 2.1K Words

🎃 Kinktober 2024 MasterList 🎃

***

Now, you weren't a huge fan of carnivals or circus' or theme parks or that whole gig, but Dean was beyond excited to go, and how could you say no to his cute face?

He had pleaded with you for days on end, begging you, cooking for you, taking care of you every single time.

Almost as if he was trying to bribe you.

And he was.

"Dean, honey?" You sidle up to him, kissing his cheek whilst he prepared a grilled cheese sandwich and some soup for you. Something he only ever did when you were sick, and you most definitely was not sick.

"Mmhh, yeah sweetheart?" Dean replied, quickly turning his head to capture your lips before he gave you a cheeky smirk.

You pat his bottom playfully before taking a seat on the countertop, "You know bribery isn't usually your strong suit."

"Isn't it?" Dean gives you a playful grin whilst plating up your food and sliding it over to you. You watch with bated eyes as he stands in between your legs and picks up the sandwich to feed you, "Take a bite princess."

You narrow your eyes at him before indulging in his request and leaning forwards to take a bite of the grilled sandwich. You had to hold back a moan as the cheese stretched apart from the sandwich and your mouth. Before you even had the chance to lick your lips, Dean was already kissing you and licking them for you.

"Good?" He asks smirking softly, knowing you enjoyed that.

"Meh, I've had better." You shrug nonchalantly, noticing his playful glare at you. You'd purposely made it a double meaning talking about other things, too. You hope down from the counter kissing his cheek and taking the plate of food with you, "Thanks honey."

"Wait- I thought you didn't like it?" He looks at you curiously.

"I don't." You smirk, making your way to the couch with a cheeky sway to your walk.

Dean lets out a little growl, which goes unheard by you, "I'll show you better, sweetheart, I'm the best you've ever had."

***

A week later, you had succumbed and got dragged with Dean to the circus/theme park he had given you those cute puppy dog eyes with his dimples, and you'd agreed.

Dean was beyond happy as he drove you, Sam, and Jess to the Circus. Sam sat in the back and leaned over to you, whispering, "Hey, what's got him so happy?"

You rolled your eyes and looked at Dean, who was singing along loudly to Highway to Hell, "He's happy because he dragged me along to the Circus even though he knows I don't like them."

Sam chucked as he patted your shoulder, "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll be fine."

Jess leaned over and whispered, "Don't worry, us girls will stick together."

You smiled as Jess patted your arm in a comforting gesture before moving back, only then to feel a hand on your thigh. You looked up at noticed Dean still singing along, but this time, he glanced over at you with a smirk on those sinful lips.

"And we're going doooownnn, all the waaayy...."

***

You and Jess did not stick together.

Dean had pulled you away from Sam and Jess and was constantly making you go on scary rides so you'd hold onto him and beg him for forgiveness. You were starting to think he liked the way you'd hold onto him for support and pray that he'd save you.

"I fucking hate you Dean!" You screamed as you squeezed his hand just as you saw the huge drop on the rollercoaster.

After 45 minutes of torture, Dean had bought you some food and had won a stuffed squirrel, which funnily enough reminded you of him.

"Look at him, he's so cute! He even has dimples like you and the little freckles!" You gushed over the plushie.

"Alright, give it here." Dean grumbles as he reached for it only for you to spin away from him.

"Hey! No! He's mine." You frowned, protecting your squirrel Dean.

"Sweetheart- give me the damn stuffed toy." Dean said in his deep voice.

You rolled your eyes, he knew that wouldn't work on you, not anymore, "You want it? Come and get me."

You giggled before running into a tent along with plushie Dean. What you hadn't realised was that it was closed and that it was a hall of mirrors. You know those creepy ones where if you take the wrong move, you bang your head into a mirror?

Yep. It was one of them ones.

"Y/N!" Dean called out your name before running in after you.

You ran around, surprisingly not bumping into any mirrors so far, but in one of the reflections, you saw a glimpse of Dean. You cursed under your breath, turning left only to bump straight something. You let out a yelp rubbing your forehead only to look and notice it wasn't a mirror you'd bumped into, it was Dean.

"Fuck!" You screamed as Dean tilted his down at you with a smirk.

You took a step back but everytime you took one back, Dean would follow through with one closer to you. Until you found yourself backed up against a mirror, Dean's chest pressed against your as he placed his hands by your head.

"Where are you going sweetheart? I've already found you." Dean smirks, reaching over to caress your cheek.

You stay quiet.

"Ah ah, you weren't so quiet earlier. Or even this past week." Dean says pressing his lower body against you, "You know, I think you enjoyed me being at your beck and call."

"Dean.." You mumble out, still holding onto plushie Dean.

"What baby?" Dean leans forward and presses a kiss to your neck, slowly moving his way down to your clavicle as his other hand unbuttons your shirt. "Tell me to stop-

"No!" You moan out a little too loudly- "Don't stop..."

Your words make Dean grin sinfully he bites your neck, leaving a mark "Hmm, what was that sweetheart? You want me to stop?"

"Dean.. no! Don't stop, fuck-" You moan out softly, dropping plushie Dean and wrapping your arms around Dean neck to pull him closer. "Fuck- I want you..."

The moment the plushie drops from your hands, Dean instantly smirks and thinks, 'I'm the only Dean in her life' and flips you around, pressing you against the mirror, "Look at how ready you are for me.."

Dean rips your shirt off your body and slings it away, making you let out a quiet gasp, "Dean my-

"Shush. No talking, princess. This is my reward for being at your beck and call for the past week. This is me showing you I'm the best you'll ever have."

His words ring a bell in your mind, but you're too distracted with the way his hands caress your breasts and push them together. Dean continues sucking at your neck before sliding a hand down your stomach and into your jeans and cupping your bare pussy.

"Fuck." He curses, feeling his cock strain against his own jeans, "Naughty fucking girl, no panties?"

You shudder as he slides a finger through your bare pussy, gently circling your clit. You can't help but grind your pussy against his finger, needing that friction, needing him, "I can feel how wet you are princess." Dean moans out, hips rutting against your ass.

"Dean-

He ignores you and slides his hand out of your jeans, and brings it to your lips, "Clean."

You immediately take his fingers into your mouth, closing your eyes as you taste yourself on his fingers, "Look at my dirty girl- tasting herself on my fingers."

He grips your chin with his free hand and makes you face the mirror, "Eyes open, baby. I want you to watch as I wreck your pussy. I want you to know I'm the only one who'll ever have your pussy, it's mine."

"But- Dean there's people-

"Ah- no. I don't care. You need a reminder of who you belong to and who looks after you." Dean growls, pulling your jeans down and slapping your cheeks. You jump forward, letting out a gasp, not expecting Dean to do that.

"Eyes open princess." Dean reminds you before sinking down to his knees and burying his face in your pussy. You scream out his name, eyes immediately closing, hands going to his hair to tug on it before Dean bites your thigh making your glance at the mirror where Dean sat between your legs.

"Don't make me ask again." He growls out in another warning.

You nod, keeping your eyes open this time, watching Dean through the mirror as he ate your pussy out. Constantly changing from sucking on your clit, to dipping his tongue in and out of your hole whilst moaning loudly. You watch as he swings one of your legs onto his shoulder, burying his face further into your pussy making you moan his name louder.

"Dean- ah I can't- I'm gonna-" You barely get to finish your sentence when Dean sucks harshly on your clit. His actions make your mind break, and your body softens in his grip as you reach your high, eyes rolling back into your head as you grip his hair tightly.

"Fuck you taste so good baby, best pussy I've ever had. Mine." Dean mumbles against your lower lips, eyes closed in pleasure as he gently laps up your juices and release.

You can't help but tug on his hair, wanting to see his face, his lips and mouth soaked on your juices, eyes filled with lust as he gazes at you in the mirror.

"So pretty." He moans as he looks at you through the mirror. He gives one last kiss to your pussy before standing up behind you. His jeans were at the bottom of his ankles, cock in hand whilst he pulled your hair back to kiss you.

You moaned wantonly into the kiss, tasting you on his lips, in his mouth everywhere.

"Sweet. My sweet princess, do you know how sweet you taste? Fuck I could stay here for days." He moans against your lips, tapping the tip of his cock against your pussy, gently hitting your clit. "God, I wanna stay here for days."

You gasp as he slides his cock between your thighs, rubbing it between them, eyes flicking to yours in the mirror as you watch his tip peak out between your thighs in the mirror. You purposely squeeze your thighs around his cock making Dean growl and bite your neck.

"Don't-" He warns just before pulling your hair making your head lean on his shoulder, "Don't test me."

"I want your eyes on my cock, watching how I pound your tight little cunt. My princess' tight little cunt." He orders you before pushing his cock in with a low growl.

You keep your eyes on his cock, watching and enjoying the way his cock fills your pussy so well. He pumps in and out slowly, almost torturing you. A ring of white lays around the base of his cock, making you moan at the sight. The way you cream around his cock makes you unintentionally squeeze him, wanting him to feel your walls tighten around his cock.

"Shit-" Dean moans your name before placing a hand on your lower stomach, "Fuck- don't do that-"

Dean presses down on your lower stomach, feeling a bump causing you to moan Dean's name lowly, "Ah, you're so deep..."

"Fuck fuck- I can feel my cock here-" Dean says softly, pushing against the slight bump making you squeeze him. Your eyes fall upon his hand, where his cock bulges your stomach out. You place a hand over his and moan.

"Dean..-"

"I know baby- eyes on me- I'm gonna-" He says when you squeeze around him again. He bites down on your neck and pumps his cock in and out of you in a torturously slow pace, wanting to make you break. He growls when you tremble around him.

"Dean- I'm gonna-" You're cut of by Dean growling your name and shoving you against the mirror and thrusting faster. A moan of Dean's name spills from your lips as you reach your high, Dean swiftly following after. His cock stilling as he fills your pussy with his cum.

Through the mirror, you meet Dean eyes, a smirk etched on his lips as he watches his cum leak out from the sides of your pussy.

"Mine." Dean finishes, kissing your neck, holding you possessively before kicking away the Dean plushie.

***

[samsmissingshoee]

ANGEL — SAM WINCHESTER.

SUMMARY — sam starts to grow fond of an angel. they have grown more comfortable around each other, and tensions run high when dean leaves for a bar.

WARNINGS — no plot all porn... 18+, softdom!sam, unprotected sex, p in v, oral, f!receiving, unexperienced!reader, angel!reader, LOTS of praise, biting, creampie, mentions of religion, sam's a sweetheart. he's also a freak.

WC — 4.3k. i got carried away.

A/N — i feel like i'm going to hell just from the warnings alone. i erm. i don't even know. shout out the two people who asked to get tagged in this 🙏 first ever smut fic, if you hate i'll probably delete my account. i am not editing 4.3k words btw. i'm lazy.

angels weren't supposed to enjoy the feeling of a human. that much was well known.

and when you came from heaven to assist castiel in whatever the hell it was that he was doing, that was repeated to you over and over again. these 'humans', they weren't important. your only job was to make sure sam winchester didn't get hurt. that was all this was supposed to be. a casual round of protecting the winchesters.

you didn't understand human norms, and at first, sam didn't like you. you didn't take personally, of course, because, well, sam hated any angel at first. castiel quickly explained to you about the brother's and how you'd be spending more time with them while he awaited directions. honestly, you couldn't care less about either of the brothers, too. they were hunters, and you were an angel. you weren't supposed to mix anyway.

sam winchester was more interesting than his older and shorter brother, though. sam was thoughtful and a lot more curious about you than he let on at first. as you spent more time 'watching' over him, you realized he enjoyed asking you questions about heaven, and the angels, and about castiel. and you tried to answer them to the best of your ability.

sam was more open to learning about you than dean, and he was more considerate when it came to teaching you knew things. slowly, he started defending you against dean's antics, and he learned about how curious you were, too.

he spent many late nights awake with you, struggling with his insomnia. you made it much more enjoyable. on the off chance that he did get some sleep, he'd wake up to you in the bunker, lounging and reading one of his books. as soon as you saw him awake, you'd pounce on him, eager to talk all about it.

sam found you endearing in the same way you found him intriguing. you both taught each other different things. he taught you about different emotions and how to communicate them to him. he showed you his favorite movies. he told you about his time in standford and about how he was studying law. you taught him about the bible, about praying and how you'd always come if he prayed for you. you taught him about heaven and hell, and angels and everything in between.

eventually, you two become friends, as much as younger sam would have hated to admit that. he showed you what friendship was and what it was like to worry about someone more than yourself. he explained to you what love was and about heartbreak. sam watched as you turned from this unemotional, blunt angel into a person, crafted by the things you loved.

you two kissed about six months after hunting with him. you were unexerienced, and painfully so, and your first kiss was nothing but giggles and awkward stares. the second, third, and fourth ones weren't any better. sam was ridiculously dotting and patient, and even though you were an angel and didn't understand what a relationship was, you still tried for him, and he loved you for it.

after a week of sneaky kisses and rushing into each other's rooms once dean fell asleep, you seemed to have gotten the hang of it. you and sam hadn't done anything remotely sexual other than a few hands-under-the-bra's and one /bad/ attempt at a handjob. sam was enthralled in watching you become more confident and learning how to touch him the way that he liked and how to kiss him properly. so he didn't mind taking things slow.

you two agreed to not have sex yet, partially because to you, it was a sin, and partially because you didn't know what you were doing. sam had no issue waiting. that was, until tonight.

you don't even remember how this happened, honestly — the lingering touches became more frequent, more needy, and at some point, sam had slipped you out of your shirt and bra. you'd barely even made it to his room /thank god for dean being out at a bar tonight/, before he was kissing you, his lips hiding something more intense tonight.

you wouldn't have protested anyways, but as soon as your shirt was gone, sam was all over you.

"i know it feels dirty, honey. but it's not. i wouldn't lie to you." sam hums against your throat, kissing the soft skin. when he talks like that, all low and soothing, you might just believe anything he says. he pulls back to look at your concerned expression, and his smile softens.

his movement stills, and you frown, almost wishing sam would convince you to do more. that feeling in your stomach, the one that felt close to nausea, started to feel nice. and you craved more of it. you craved more of sam.

although his desire outweighed his guilt for ruining the purity of an angel like this, sam still sat up for a moment, his hazel eyes practically begging you. he was nothing, if not a gentleman. "do you want this?" sam asks, hushed and spoken like a prayer, and you think you might get sent to hell just from how he's looking at you.

sam's hair is a ruffled mess, and his long sleeve black shirt was rolled up to his elbows. his carhartt jacket had long been discarded by you, tossed somewhere into the dark abyss that was the dingy, horribly lit motel room. he looks beautiful.

"i do, sammy, but—" you breathe out shakily. before you can finish answering, his hands are on your hips, tugging you closer to him. you're both standing up, his large hands moving up your skirt to trail up your sides. sam can feel your back arch against his hands slightly, and it's taking everything in him to not lose his resolve.

san, who previously said he was okay with waiting, felt like a selfish man tonight. he could honestly care less about your innocence right now. what he did care about was you, though. sam knew that if you wanted him to continue, he wouldn't be able to stop.

"but what?" sam mumbled, his fingertips digging against your hips. his erection was pressed dangerously against your thigh. he shifted you until you were pressed against him — he knew what he was doing and the effect it was having on you. you didn't answer and could only grumble a complaint out.

"just needa taste you, honey. we don't have to go all the way if you don't want to." sam's words are a contradiction to how he was staring at you. "although, i have thought about doing more." he hums, and he has a slight shit eating grin on his face. it's sort of surprising that this is your sweet sammy.

you're conflicted— this is wrong. sinful. but there was a bubbling heat in your stomach, and you wanted nothing more than to make sam feel good. maybe a part of being human was indulging in your sins. you pout at him slightly, and sam has to stop himself from moving his hips up against you. he doesn't just want this, he needs this. he needs to corrupt you, to ruin your innocence until all you can think about is him.

"fine. be gentle, though, sam. i mean it." you relent, although you didn't need much convincing. honestly, if he tried to pull off of you, you'd be the one begging him to touch you and not the other way around.

"oh, fuck—" sam groans, and he almost instantly falls to his knees. his hands are tugging off your jeans faster than you can process. "you don't know how long i've wanted this." his tone makes you feel dirty, and you can't help when your brows crumple into a slight glare. you didn't know what he was doing, but you wanted him to hurry it up.

you help him kick your jeans off around your ankles and step out of them. you're left in your cotton panties, and for some reason, it turns sam on more to know you weren't planning for this. honestly, neither was he.

"leave these on." two fingers slip underneath the elastic by your thigh, tugging them and letting them go, the fabric snapping against your skin. the action makes you suck in a breath. sam's lips make their way to your upper thighs, sucking and kissing at the sensitive skin. it's not enough, and he knows that. he's driving you crazy on purpose to see you squirm for him.

"sam—" you chastise, like a scold, your hand running through his hair and tugging on it gently, trying to bring your hips closer to him. sam fucking moans. he moans at getting his hair pulled, and it makes your brows crease in bewilderment. /you would definitely be keeping that in mind./

sam looks up at you with those same puppydog eyes, and you swear you're going to burst into literal flames and have your wings removed instantly. "needa taste my girl's pussy. y'gonna let me?" sam says softly, his voice muffled by your thigh, gently biting on a spot. when you whimper, he pulls back to kiss at the forming bruise, his hands massaging at the fat of your ass.

truth be told, you'd probably let him fold into a pretzel at this point, but you didn't want to stroke his massive ego.

the noise you make is answer enough, and sam deftly pulls your panties to the side. his hand brings yours to hold them. he needs *both* hands for devouring you. sam's two middle fingers move to collect your slick from your folds, and you shiver. his brows raise, and he smiles again. "you're soaked, baby. you really want me that bad?" he asks, and you're nodding quickly.

sam can't hold back when you look this pretty above him. you can feel his breath against you. even just looking at you bare in front of him is enough to make him want to cum in his fucking jeans.

he flattens his tongue against you, and your hips stutter against his mouth. you've never felt anything like this before. you can feel sam's grin against your cunt, his hands cupping into your ass and pulling your hips further into his mouth.

seeing such a large man, especially one like sam, at his knees, lapping at your pussy like a fucking starved man— it makes your head fuzzy.

without warning, his middle finger slips into you. your hands move to his hair to steady yourself, massaging at the brown strands, pushing some from off his sticky forehead. the concentration on his face is almost cute, but it soon becomes too hard to keep your eyes open.

another finger slips past your folds, and you're mouthing his name like a prayer. his fingers are rocking into you at a slow speed, but his mouth— it was fucking dirty, the way he'd suck on your clit, only pulling away to breathe. everytime he pulled away, a string of saliva followed, connected between you two. his chin was slick with your arousal, his chest panting with heavy breaths. and then he was right back to devouring you.

maybe sam winchester was the devil.

your hands tug on his hair slightly, and sam groans against you. the heat in your stomach was building and sam was near drunk on your pussy. when he looked up at you with those hazel eyes, you moaned, your thighs tremoring.

"sam— sam, it feels too good... please—" you breathed out, panting too now, and sam didn't relent, no matter how hard you were tugging at his hair. his hand was holding your hip hard not daring to let you squirm away from him. indents of his fingertips would ruin your pretty skin by the morning. you had to shy away from his intense gaze.

sam pulled away, still fucking his fingers into you. "eyes on me, baby." he mumbled, before sinking flush against your clit again. you listened, although your face was an embarrassing hue of pink. sam was just as loud and needy, if not worse than you. everytime your thighs clenched around him, or you tugged on his hair, profanities and groans slipped from his lips. he needed you.

sam kept his tongue latched onto you, his eyes showing that he was as desperate as you were to make you cum. the noises he was making were filth, soft grunts and groans, all muffled by your puffy pussy. when your eyes flickered down, you noticed that one of his hands were palming himself through his jeans.

with every shake and spasm, it was like sam knew you were close. he was using his hands to rock your hips more onto his tongue, your weight practically suffocating him. sam would gladly die a happy man in between your folds, if it meant getting to look up at your beautiful face contorting in pleasure. his chest swells at the fact that he is the one who gets to touch you like this.

that feeling returned as quickly as it left, and soon you were cumming on his face, your legs shaking as he kept his fingers curled into your folds. that was probably the best thing you'd felt since coming to earth. sam pressed a kiss to your overstimulated clit, before kissing up your stomach, your breasts, collarbone, and finally standing to his full height over you.

"how was that?" sam asks, licking the wetness off his fingers. as much as he wanted to ruin you, he also wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

heavy pants still wracked both of your bodies, your thighs aching and barely able to hold your own weight. he had the audacity to ask that after making you feel things you hadn't felt in your centuries alive? in between deep breaths, you shot him a slight glare.

"what do you think?" you tutted, puffing his lips out in that gorgeous pout that made sam was to kiss you stupid, holding onto his biceps so you didn't lose balance.

sam grins in response, his hands moving to your bare hips, pressing you into him. his cock was fucking painfully hard and he had to refrain from rutting against you. "i need to fuck you, honey." fuck sam and his beautiful eyes, pleading at you. his hand leads your to palm him from over his jeans, and he moans softly, so prettily.

you were conflicted. you knew his cock would feel so much better than his fingers, but this was wrong. "sammy—" you say in the same chastising voice that drives him insane.

"please, let me fuck you. need to feel you around my dick. fuck, doesn't even have to be all the way." sam pleads, and you have a hard time saying no to that. he was practically begging you. you sigh at how weak you were for this man. "please fuck me, sam."

sam eyes widen slightly, and he can't help his grin as he pushes you back against the bed. his eyes stay on you as he pulls his shirt off, discarding it across the motel floor along with all of yours. you can't help but stare at him. all tanned, scarred, and bruised, despite being young. it was so different compared to your imperfect skin, free of any blemishes or let alone scars.

sam's tantalizingly slow as he takes off his belt, followed by his jeans. he's fucking huge. that much you can tell by his bulge alone. your eyes widen slightly when he strips his boxers off.

he wanted to take his time with you, to treat you like the goddamn angel you were, to wrack every noise he can from your lips. but, sam was impatient as hell. and he was really, really hard.

"you're beautiful." sam coos, caging you in between his much larger frame. there is a shine in his gaze, so soft and loving, that it almost makes you feel queasy. he's not doing this because he's bored or because he wants to get off. sam's doing this because you're his world.

"you're alright." you respond, not able to hold back the giggle that escaped your lips afterward, especially when you felt sam's annoyed sigh against the crook of your neck. you can feel his irritated grin. sam fell in love with that devilish laugh of yours, and he found it endearing that even during this, he could make you sound like that.

it was such a sharp contrast from how emotionless and... awkward— you first were when you met the winchester brothers. sam has loved watching you adapt this sassy personality, loved eyeing you while you admire new things, hearing the way your voice heightened whenever you laughed, the way you took over parts of his and dean's own quirks and personalities.

"just alright? you wound me, angel."

this time, you rolled your eyes. you turn your head to the side to press your lips against the mole below his right eye. "you're beautiful too, sammy. you already know that." you huff out, your tone unmistakably soft. sam scoffed, nipping at her neck slightly. it was nice to hear that from you, regardless of what he thought about himself.

unfortunately for you, the compliment rushes to sam's head. he sits up slightly, his cock pressed against your lower stomach, a hand brushing over your cheek, moving your fanned hair out of your face. "are you sure you're okay with this? we can stop— i'll put on a movie, and we can forget—"

you interrupt sam's worries by pressing a kiss to his palm. "yes sam, i'm sure. please." and that small act of intimacy followed by your voice pleading for him was enough reassurance for sam. no need to tell him twice.

sam pumps himself a few times, his eyes not once leaving yours. "scoot your hips up for me, honey." you oblige, and you can feel his cock pressed against your clothed entrance. the sight leaves nothing for the imagination and sam sighs as his fingers pulls your panties down to your ankles.

sam looks like he's in fucking heaven, his lips parted and staring at you bare in front of him. his thumb habitually moves to your clit, rubbing soft circles against it just to watch you squirm under him.

"sam, quit being a damn tease." you frown and wiggle your hips into his more. his gaze is making you shy, something you didn't know was even possible as an angel.

"innocent angel, my ass." sam mumbles under his breath, but he obliges, lining up his cock to you. he collects your slick with his tip, dragging the wetness over your already overstimulated clit. sam rubs it against your folds a few times, before pressing only about halfway in. the moan that leaves your lips is heavenly, so much so that sam's head has to fall to your shoulder and bites it softly so he doesn't cum too fast like a damn high schooler.

"you're so fucking tight, shit—" sam groans and it's so dirty coming from him. he's usually so sweet to you, so hearing this is different. and arousing. but different. you'd expect this talk out of dean, not sam.

sam really wished he would've slept around a little more in college now because it was taking far too much concentration to not finish already.

"need to fuck you, baby. please." sam all but whimpers out. all of your beliefs, your nightly prayers, all of it was gone the second you felt him inside of you. you can only nod in response, your hands tugging at his waist to come closer to you.

sam stills, looking at you for a moment like he can't believe you want this. and slowly, he pushes in all the way, and you both share a pornographic moan.

sam is quiet as he lets you adjust to his size. he wasn't one to toot his own horn, but he was pretty big. and even though your vessel wasn't a virgin, mentally, you still were. sam had a mantra of things going through his head — the main ones being: please don't cum, please don't cum, please don't cum. don't say i love you. don't move too fast yet. let her adjust.

sam leans down to kiss your forehead. "good?" he hums.

you nod again. "hurts a little." and sam is nothing but patient, kissing each of your temples before brushing your hair away.

"i promise you're doing so good. it's gonna hurt for a moment. it'll feel better soon. just relax." sam murmured against your shoulder, his lips sighing down towards your collarbone. "gonna move now, sweet girl." calloused palms are pressing your thighs to your chest. he leans down enough so you can hold on to his shoulders if you need.

with one hand still on the back of your leg, and the other one cupping one of your breasts, he pulls out almost all the way before rocking in slowly. your eyes screwing shut from pleasure is enough to test the waters with a more heavy thrust. "that's it, baby. look at you—" sam groans, his fingertips digging into your skin. his eyes were glued to where his cock was entering you rhythmically, and god, he could get addicted to that sight. sam could fucking see where the tip of his cock was pressing into your belly. his palm moved over it, adding slight pressure to your lower pelvis. the feeling made him groan out your name softly. he was just as loud as you were. "so beautiful."

part of you wanted sam to shut up so you could focus on the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock, but the other half of you enjoyed the flithy words leaving his flushed lips.

"oh, fuck. sammy, 's too much—" you whimpered out, your hand squeezing his biceps. your legs wrapped around his waist to bring him closer, the balls of your heels digging against his ass. sam think he likes that you're not very vocal. it makes every beg, every moan that much more special to him. he was the only one who got to see his angel falling apart like this.

everything about sam is fucking massive, from his height, to his sheer size difference over you. it shouldn't have been shocking that his dick was huge too, but you felt it now. you felt every single inch, stretching you out, your arousal slipping down his shaft. sam's thrusts grew more feverish, his shaggy brown bangs falling into his face as his head fell forward slightly. "i know you can handle it baby." he grunted in response to your plea, hazel eyes fucked out with lust.

that feeling in your lower belly returned, and now, at least, you know what it meant. it was overwhelming, but not enough for you. your hand reached for sam's hand, guiding it to you clit. sam thought that was the hottest thing he'd ever fucking seen, and shuddered slightly. "you wanna cum around my cock? is that it, sweetheart?" sam asks, a small, contemplating smile on his lips.

you're writhing under his cock, your back arching off the bed, his thumb rubbing soft circles around your nub. you tap his bicep in warning of your approaching orgasm, but he doesn't stop. he doesn't slow down either. in fact, he ruts his hips faster. the feeling of you clenching around his dick is enough to send him over the edge, too. he's biting down hard on his cheek to stop himself from cumming before you. he wants, needs to see you cum first, before he can.

your face contorts into pleasure, and you cum hard, sam still fucking you through your orgasm. he groans and his eyes close when he watches you making a mess all over him. "thaaat's it. that's my girl." he encourages, the feeling of your walls clenching around him tipping him over the edge. "fuck. gonna fill you up." he grunts against your shoulder, his hips stuttering slightly and you moan as you feel his cock twitch inside you, before you feel cum spurt into your cunt.

sam pulls out a moment after, his eyes blown out when he watches his spend leak from your pulsating hole. he uses two fingers to spread it around over your folds. once he's satisfied with his handiwork, he slumps down into the bed next to you.

you're still a panting, sighing mess. you feel your legs twitch occasionally, and you're finally coming to your senses. you were just fucked stupid by your best friend. a human.

"jesus, sam. is this really what humans are doing?" you ask, out of genuine curiosity, and sam pinches your side with a slight laugh. he looks spent, almost as bad as you. his head falls to your shoulder, pressing his lips to the soft skin present.

"the lucky ones, yeah." sam huffs in amusement. "you're okay, right? i didn't hurt you, or pressure you or anything?" his voice is a little persistent, worried, already overthinking like he wasn't just inside of you.

"'course not. that was amazing. i think i'd go to hell if it meant having sex everyday— i see why castiel was encouraging me into trying this." you tilt your head to the side, and sam raises an eyebrow. he didn't even dare ask what odd things castiel told you about. nor did he want to know. he couldn't see castiel doing anyone without scaring them away with his bluntness first.

sam chooses to ignore that, leaning over to pepper kisses onto your cheeks, nose, and forehead. anywhere you'll let him at this point. "you did amazing. absolutely drained me. y'sure you haven't done that before?" he teases, and you roll your eyes at him. your eyes watched him with concern when sam stood.

"alright, crazy girl. let's get you cleaned up."

[sammyluvr]

angel!reader heacanons — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, reader really really loves cats, sort of naive/super adorable reader, little bit of disillusionment, not proofread, 2.4K words. requested !

prompt : simply just sam x angel!reader <3

✶.◟ sometimes, sam still thinks about how disappointing it was to find out the reality of heaven and angels and god

✶.◟ of course, there’s the occasionally kind angel, and of course, there’s cas

✶.◟ but when you come along, he’s certainly still suspicious of you and your intentions

✶.◟ you’ve never been to earth before, and that often means a firm indoctrination in the skewed perspective of many angels

✶.◟ cas didn’t know much about you when you came along, just that you’re a low ranking angel whom he’s never heard anything bad about

✶.◟ you’re there on orders, of course, and it doesn’t take long before you run into cas and the winchesters

✶.◟ the encounter isn’t necessarily pleasant, as heaven usually isn’t working in tandem with the brothers

✶.◟ but it’s not to unpleasant either; the shorter seems sort of rude to you, you don’t have the best impression of castiel based on heaven’s word, and the third isn’t thrilled to see you either

✶.◟ but you’re not unkind, just blunt and maybe a little awkward like all angels who are unused to the human way of speaking

✶.◟ so they don’t jump to judge or hurt you, or at least, sam doesn’t

✶.◟ he gets dean to back down and listen to you when the elder gets upset about something you say regarding heaven

✶.◟ it’s stange to you, these humans that know of heaven and angels but don’t seem to care for them much

✶.◟ you thought humans found comfort in the thought of you, but these ones don’t seem to like the real thing and that intrigues you

✶.◟ in fact, now that you’re here on earth, everything intrigues you

✶.◟ kindness and lying and holding hands and eating and falling asleep

✶.◟ stray cats and crispy leaves on the ground that make a nice sound against the concrete when it’s windy

✶.◟ then next time you meet cas and the boys, you ask these questions that make them think you might not be so bad, that they might be able to get through to you

✶.◟ you only ask them because your superior angels won’t answer, and you can’t really ask regular humans

✶.◟ it’s sweet, the way you interrupt the tense conversation, seeking permission to ask them a few questions about humans

✶.◟ sam sees your earnesty and says of course

✶.◟ why don’t humans like rain? we don’t have it in heaven, and i find it so pleasant to experience.

✶.◟ and, how does one procure a pet cat? i want one.

✶.◟ and also, why don’t you like angels? the others won’t answer any of my questions.

✶.◟ they answer the last question first, and your concern grows

✶.◟ you understand prioritizing the orders one receives from heaven, but despite lacking a natural empathy as an angel, you don’t carry the disdain for humans that many angels too

✶.◟ and that makes you confused over the actions of angels that cas and the brothers describe to you

✶.◟ and it leaves you much more open minded, much more sympathetic; cas doesn’t seem nearly as bad as other angels describe him, he’s generally kind and passionate

✶.◟ the brothers don’t seem to bad to you either, especially sam

✶.◟ he’s nice to you and appeals to what cas says are your better senses, your kinder senses

✶.◟ to you, kind seems like a good thing, and the way that angels generally don’t care for individual humans seems opposing to your purpose as their protectors

✶.◟ so, as conflicted as you feel about it, you lend help to cas when he calls upon you

✶.◟ and one day, you lend a hand to sam. just sam

✶.◟ he prays to you, injured but trying to sound dignified still; cas won’t answer, and dean’s too far

✶.◟ he’s unsure that you’ll answer, but you do, and readily

✶.◟ he’s barely said your name, barely explained the situation before there’s a flutter of wings, then you

✶.◟ it doesn’t take much effort on your part to deal with whatever monsters he was fighting, then you kneel at his side and heal his wounds without a second thought

✶.◟ he thanks you, and you follow him to his motel, unaware that he didn’t really invite you

✶.◟ he certainly doesn’t tell you to go, though

✶.◟ it’s just that he never answered your questions about rain or cats, and honestly you have so many more

✶.◟ he stays up almost all night explaining everything he can to you, as best as he can, until he yawns and you remember that humans need sleep

✶.◟ so you turn off the lights and send him to bed before settling onto the couch and grabbing a spare book

✶.◟ “may i read this?” you ask while he’s brushing his teeth

✶.◟ “of course,” he says, taking a few moments to study your form, already intently studying the first page

✶.◟ “are you staying here?” he asks, voice muffled around the toothbrush

✶.◟ “yes. is that alright?”

✶.◟ he nods, “sure. you don’t have somewhere else to be, though?”

✶.◟ you think he sounds funny with a mouth full of toothpaste and spit

✶.◟ “not anymore,” you answer simply, “i think i’ll be like cas.”

✶.◟ sam smiles, unbeknownst to you because you’ve already resumed reading this book, it’s fiction, and fascinating to you

✶.◟ when sam wakes, you’re still on the couch, reading a new book, and the second you hear him stir you turn around in the couch, leaning over the cushions to watch him

✶.◟ “sam?” you ask with no regard to the fact that he’s barely just opened his eyes, then rattle off several questions about the content of the books you’ve been reading all night

✶.◟ the poor man barely catches any of it, stretching and groaning before trying to answer something in a slightly coherent way

✶.◟ but what he says to you doesn’t make much sense, nor does it really apply to any of the seven questions you’ve asked

✶.◟ you scrunch up your nose and suddenly sam thinks that you’re very cute

✶.◟ he tells you he’s too disoriented to answer, but that he’ll tell you what he thinks properly after getting up and having a cup of coffee

✶.◟ sam shows you your first coffee shop, which you’re decently delighted with, though the dirty chai latte he’s ordered for you tastes like nothing but molecules to you, as per usual

✶.◟ but he keeps his promise, telling you everything he can about the things in the books that confused you or made you curious

✶.◟ it’s all why would she lie to them or why do you humans… and sam finds himself explaining deeply some of the most complicated parts of the human condition to you

✶.◟ you find it all a bit strange, but a bit endearing too

✶.◟ you’re blunt and don’t intend to be mean when you tell sam that it seems like cas is closer to dean, but you like him better

✶.◟ sam blushes a little, though he feels like he shouldn’t be surprised by your honesty

✶.◟ you become closer to all three of them in time, and grow to understand the nuances of humans better

✶.◟ you’re not quite as awkward, but sam thinks you still talk a little funny, and is quite endeared with it

✶.◟ he spends time explaining lots to you, sharing all of his knowledge of humans things, and listening intently when you share about your abundant knowledge of the divine and supernatural

✶.◟ it doesn’t take long at all to find that he really could talk to you all day and night

✶.◟ and though he’s careful with his heart, it doesn’t take long to fall for you either

✶.◟ you’ve quickly turned into a very genuine and empathetic angel, and sam admires you for it greatly

✶.◟ you still struggle with some things and some aspects of empathy, but to him you really do feel good

✶.◟ you feel like what an angel should be, at least in this messed up world

✶.◟ and he’s hesitant; you’ll live practically forever unless you get killed, and it certainly scares him that you can be killed, he scared of anyone he loves dying… he’s scared that everyone he loves will die because of it

✶.◟ and you don’t know too well about love, but you figure out that you have it

✶.◟ for many things, like rain and cats and books and sam

✶.◟ sam likes to indulge the things that you love

✶.◟ he shares his favorite books with you and shows you how to use the internet

✶.◟ one day he wakes to you on his computer, a wide smile on your face and soft cooing escaping your lips

✶.◟ when you sense his presence, you look up at him from your seat with the widest, most excited eyes and he nearly melts into the floor

✶.◟ “did you know that you can look at endless pictures of cats on this computer?” you ask him

✶.◟ he says yes, and that you can look at them on any computer, and that you can watch videos too

✶.◟ he almost regrets telling you that, because now you’re constantly approaching him with cat videos you found in your free time

✶.◟ but he’d never regret doing something that makes you smile so often, so he doesn’t complain

✶.◟ instead, he researches about cats and all the other earthly things that interest you in his free time so he can tell you random facts about them

✶.◟ and for a being who’s been alive for so long and knows so much, you find it beautiful that there’s so much more to learn on earth

✶.◟ and sam loves your thirst for knowledge, he loves being the person you always ask about things first

✶.◟ he feels proud to tell you the things he does know, and grateful that you also ask questions that make him really think or that he doesn’t know the answer to yet

✶.◟ you’ve also taken to stealing his phone to take pictures

✶.◟ you have an incredible memory, but the internet has made you keen on images

✶.◟ it of course started when you saw a stray cat and wished aloud to him that you could take a picture like the ones you look at on his computer

✶.◟ and he gladly informs you that you can, showing you how to use his camera

✶.◟ his camera roll ends up filled with every little thing one could think of; so many cats and clouds and sunsets and buildings and people you see on the street, plants and trees and bugs, and apparently, him

✶.◟ you keep taking pictures of him, and it makes him shy

✶.◟ he asks why and you tell him it’s because you take pictures of all the things you like, all the things you think are pretty

✶.◟ sure, there’s photos of dean and cas sprinkled in, but you must like sam a lot and find him very pretty to have taken so many pictures of him

✶.◟ he blushes and says you should take pictures of yourself too

✶.◟ you wonder if he’s implying that he thinks you’re pretty, but you’re not really sure; the sentiment ends up flying over your head like many of his attempts at flirting, but he always finds it as endearing as it is frustrating, so he can’t complain much

✶.◟ you do take photos of yourself like he’s suggested, only for that reason, though you’re not really sure how and most of them look awkward or generally unsuccessful in actually capturing your whole face with the camera

✶.◟ sam doesn’t show you how to use the front camera for a long while because he likes the silly photos of you

✶.◟ eventually, you find it yourself, and sam’s relieved that you still look awkward in your selfies

✶.◟ most likely, you end up taking up all of his storage, but he doesn’t have the heart to delete anything, so he downloads them onto his computer and saves them there (he’s self indulgent and keeps much more of the pictures of you than he really needs)

✶.◟ then he buys you a simple camera of your own, and ends up missing all the times you ask to borrow his phone to take a picture of the clouds in the sky

✶.◟ that always made him stop and look more, see the world and its beauty through your eyes

✶.◟ so instead, he looks for things you might like when you’re apart and takes pictures to show you when he sees you next

✶.◟ there’s also probably a time where you accidentally took his phone with you somewhere, and he has to pray to you to get it back

✶.◟ sam also likes to pray to you, though

✶.◟ it’s infinitely comforting that he can talk to you wherever you are and know that you’ll hear him

✶.◟ and he tends to miss you a lot, so he likes to at least have one way to feel close to you, even if you can’t always visit him right then or even reply at all 

✶.◟ but of all the things that sam teaches you, of all the things that he’s the first one to show you, it’s the love that his most favorite

✶.◟ one day you ask about hand holding; you’ve seen lots of humans do it, and you’re curious

✶.◟ why do you do it? is it nice? you understand that it’s an expression of affection, but you want to know more

✶.◟ can i hold your hand?

✶.◟ when he says yes, and looks into your eyes while he takes your hand into his, you very easily understand that yes, it’s nice. it’s lovely. it’s perfect. and you’d like to do it with sam all of the time

✶.◟ much more comes after that; you want to feel all of the ways that people express affection; hugs and sweet words and kisses and heads on shoulders. playing with hair and saying i love you

✶.◟ sam shows it all to you

[walkinthrudaisies]

Roslyn

sam winchester x angelfem!reader

2.6k | slight angst, fluff

summary: after sam and dean find themselves acquainted with another angel, sam finds himself more drawn to her than he imagined.

sam and dean thought that after cas, no more angels would be vying to join their little group. both agreeing that the angel spot on the team had already been taken by their trench coat wearing friend

though as life goes, nothing ever happens as planned. that came as a soft spoken, timid angel that happened to be you. a beacon of hope that sam and dean didn’t even know they needed at the time.

sam winchester had recently gotten out of hell, and there were rumours going around that he wasn’t acting like he usually did. you sat back and observed, not wanting to intrude at a wrong time, and only by that did you realize he’d been ripped out of hell without a soul. he was a man walking around with no human morals — or emotions for that matter, and you could tell it was taking a toll on his older brother.

when your brother castiel had managed to get the winchesters soul back, you knew it was time for you to descend down to earth. castiel wasn’t acting like himself, and with the war raging on in heaven, you knew that a little down time out of the sky would be helpful for you.

the only problem was you didn’t have a vessel. you never liked the idea of completely taking over someone’s body. you’d only done it once and it wasn’t fun, even though you had the woman’s full permission and she remained in perfect condition after your endeavours.

so you spent your time picking out the perfect person to merge into. when you came across a young, twenty something year old woman named roslyn, you couldn’t help but conclude that she was the one.

a very faithful girl, she had been struggling with a rare disease for the past couple of years. roslyn was in pain, and the only way you could think of helping her was allowing her soul to go into heaven and for you to take over her body. it was awful timing, you knew it. but her soul would be free, and you communicated with her in the special ways that you angels did, and she was more then happy to lend her body over to your essence.

when you finally took control over her body, your first course of action was to find the winchester brothers. they needed help, and as much as they didn’t want to admit it you knew they knew it too.

the mother of all was out of purgatory and running a muck, someone was trying to open purgatory’s gates on top of that, and cas being completely MIA as the icing on the cake was definitely not helping the two men. with sam’s soul being freshly back in his body you knew they were distraught. you knew castiel’s suspicious behaviour wasn’t helping and you just wanted to be of service.

the winchester’s weren’t hard to find. they’d been praying to your brother for some time, and without him answering, their prayers started seeping in to yours and other angels wave lengths.

you found them in a motel right in the middle of chicago, working on a case to take a break on the whole purgatory debacle. your wings flapped in the wind as you found yourself in front of the building, senses running ramped as you tried to figure out which room was there’s.

as you walked up to their door, you wondered how you were going to address the brothers. what would you say to them? would you flat out mention castiel’s weird behaviour? you weren’t really sure, but you knew that your main goal was to let the winchester’s know you were on their side.

your knuckles softly tapped onto the wooden door, fiddling with your fingers as you waited for an answer. what you didn’t expect though, was a behemoth of a man to answer it, so tall that you had to crane your neck to look beyond his middle.

you’d assumed that the man who opened the door was either sam or dean. while the stories of the winchester brothers didn’t leave out their attractiveness, but you didn’t expect for one of them to look this good. his sharp facial features and longish hair pulled you in. though, it was his soft, hazel eyes that had you mesmerized. they held such a soft aura to them, making you melt into their vernal appearance and long for his comfort.

sam was confused. neither him or dean was expecting someone, and he would’ve known if his brother was bringing a girl to their room. the look in her face was scared and timid, a shy smile lighting up her bright eyes. sam wanted to believe she bared good intentions, but knowing him and his brothers luck she’d be another problem they had to handle.

“hello.” the word slipped from your lips in a low alto, almost like you were trying to remain unseen. “are you either sam or dean winchester?”

the question caught sam of guard. “yeah i’m sam. my brothers just inside.” he didn’t want to alert dean to the strange woman at their door, but he still wanted to be careful. “who are you?”

tilting the corner of your lip into a delicate smile, you brought your hand out from sam to shake. “i’m Y/N.” you spoke as sam took your hand, holding lightly as he felt the smoothness of it’s ridges. “i am an angel of the lord, one of castiel’s companions actually.” you thought that maybe mentioning castiel would soften their immediate aggression towards your unknown presence, but the look on sam’s face was deterring you in the other direction.

turning his head to look over at dean, sam gave him a look of ‘we’ve got an issue’, instantly alerting the older winchester to prepare for any harm that would come to either him or sam.

without really thinking, you brushed past sam into the room and inspected it further. you saw who you assumed to be dean stood by a bed, gun hung by his hips but hands placed at the ready if you did anything that rubbed him the wrong way.

placing your hands behind your back, you immediately got into business. “as you are both aware, eve is out of purgatory. i’m also sure you’re aware that my brother castiel has been a bit off lately. i’ve just come down to assist you both, make sure that everything is in order and that purgatory will remain as it always has.” the brothers watched you in slight awe, almost like they didn’t expect for you to know what was happening down on earth. just because there was a gruesome war going on in your home doesn’t mean you weren’t completely out of the loop.

dean was the first to speak, looking at you skeptically as he gave your face a once over. “you seem lovely, sweetheart but how do we know you’re telling the truth?” his question was valid, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the winchester’s classic style of not being easily trusting.

“here,” you spoke, moving so you could be in the middle of the room. “let me show you.” in an instant you flapped your wings and disappeared, shocking sam and dean and having the younger brother almost knocking back into the motel rooms desk.

in a couple of short minutes you were back, wind tossed hair with a pie in hand. you handed it over to dean, brushing your hair back as you straightened your back. “i flew to the nearest diner to get you some pie. cas tells me you really enjoy apple.”

if someone’s eyes could become actual saucers than dean winchester accomplished it. he looked like a kid in a candy shop who’s mom allowed him to get his favourite treat. “you might just be my favourite member of the god squad.” dean mumbled through a mouthful of pie, smiling contently to himself as he took another bite.

sam was still a little on the fence, not really sure on one thing. “why aren’t you alerting the other angles if you’re so concerned? i thought you guys rarely came down to earth.”

“believe me,” you spoke, shifting on your feet so you could look at dean more clearly. “if i didn’t have to be down here i wouldn’t. but heaven has been run amuck, and i’m starting to get worried about cas.” the look on sam’s face after you voiced your worry on your brother confused you. the angel was acting different, sketchy even. why weren’t sam and dean jumping at the opportunity to help you get to the bottom of his behaviour?

“why are you so concerned about castiel?” sam questioned, leaning forward so he could be closer to you. “last we saw of him he seemed to be fine.”

oh. so the winchester’s didn’t know about their angel friends strange behaviour. with all the stuff on their plate you weren’t surprised; but you started to think of the severity of castiel’s actions if he didn’t think to have sam and dean in the mix with him.

brushing off any worry on your face, you plastered on your best smile and tried to comfort sam and dean. “heaven just hasn’t seen him in a while that’s all. i just wanted to come down and be of help when castiel is away.” dean’s face showed some skepticism, but sam seemed more open to your help, and gave his brother a look that screamed ‘give her a chance’.

sighing to himself, dean turned and looked over at you with defeat. “alright, you can help.” his head perked up a second after, seemingly thinking of something. “why did your think we needed your help anyway? this is a simple demon case.”

oh the winchester’s. they were very bright in some areas, yet when it came to looking at the bigger picture, they fell a little flat. “eve is here that’s why.” you spoke, watching as both brothers faces fell. “she’s the one orchestrating all of this.” the look on both sam and dean’s faces showed they weren’t aware of this, even though it made the most sense.

“well, that’s good enough for me. let’s go find ourselves some demons.” dean enthused, getting up and grabbing his weapons and jacket. as sam and his brother went around grabbing their belongings, sam noticed how you just stood still, eyes darting around the room like everything was new and fresh to you. in hindsight, it was, for this was your first time on earth. sam was just so enthralled with the look on your face, how the smallest thing interested you.

even when you followed behind the two brothers on the way to the impala, your eyes caught on everything. cars, people, shops, and especially the flowers and greenery that danced along the buildings and ground.

as you three pulled up to the abandoned warehouse, you could sense the demonic presence from outside. this allowed you to sneakily walk sam and dean right to where the demons were, garnering them the moment of surprise which gave them time to whip out three out the six demons.

while sam and dean fought two demons, you watched as another tried to escape. transporting right in front of the man you watched as his face turned into a snarl. “looks like they’ve got another angel on their side.” he sneered, attempting to move past you but failed as you kicked his legs in and pinned him down to the ground.

“where’s eve.” you asked calmly, not wanting to talk to this demon longer than you should. he just smirked at you, spitting up onto your face to get his point across.

gosh they really were abominations. you were disgusted and really sick of having to be in his presence, so with a slight crush of his windpipe and a foot on his rib he was sputtering out her whereabouts. “thank you.” you responded in a nonchalant manner, putting two fingers on his forehead and smiting him into nothing.

standing up and brushing some dust from your coat, you turned and noticed sam and dean standing a little ways behind you, shock covering their faces.

“wow” dean breathed, putting his gun into his coat. “didn’t realize angels were so brutal.” sam seemed more star struck, like the simple notion of what you just did astounded him. you didn’t say anything to either of the two men, casually shrugging your shoulders and walking back to the impala.

sam didn’t move for a second, garnering dean to whack him on the back and snicker to himself. “got some drool there on your cheek, sammy.” the younger winchester just huffed, mumbling about how dean was an ass while he got into the passenger seat with the strange yet attractive angel sitting behind him.

the ride back to the motel was quite, the only sound being the hum of the car and the soft rock music dean was playing over his radio. you knew your work here was done, that when you three pulled to a stop that you’d have to leave. something inside of you didn’t want you to go. it wanted you to see what castiel saw in the winchester’s. elaborate on the feeling of peaceful energy that being around sam gave you for the first time.

when the time came for you to bid your farewell, the atmosphere seemed to change. dean was very cordial. a simple goodbye and a slight wave of his hand was all he could muster up before retreating back into his room.

sam on the other hand, he lingered for a bit.

his eyes raked over the form of your vessel. he knew that this wasn’t what you truly looked like. somehow, that didn’t phase him. the aura and emotion you executed was enough for him to get a feel of who you truly were.

the somber look behind vast irises was enough for sam to understand that you truly didn’t want to leave. you had to, you didn’t want to. that was enough for sam to feel a sprinkle of hope that him and dean would be seeing you again.

releasing a puff of air, you were the one to break the looming silence. “please look out for castiel. something’s off with him, i just don’t know what.” sam also could tell that you wanted to stay to help your brother, but that inner turmoil which had been deeply in rooted from the angels wouldn’t let you.

the man wanted you to feel a sliver of comfort. so he agreed, giving you a slight nod as he watched the wind tousle your hair around.

you looked beautiful under the moonlight. sam truly could understand why you were an angel. your kindness and true devotion to the ones you loved barred proudly on your chest. sam swore you glowed, but that was just his imagination talking.

“i better go.” you whispered, walking over to sam and placing your hands on his shoulders. the younger winchester was frozen, not knowing how to react at your blatant actions. with a swift turn of your head, you pressed a delicate kiss to sam’s cheek. the lingering feeling of your lips on his skin had sam reeling.

he couldn’t react. a whoosh of wings and a slight gust of air alerted him to your departure. you hadn’t even been gone a minute and sam deeply down already missed you.

sam winchester was in too deep already and it seemed like he couldn’t give a care in the world.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— BOULEVARD OF BROKEN DREAMS

SUMMARY : sharing a room with sam when dean has the sex drive that he has usually means he has to be quiet when he’s doing the dirty with his girl.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : sam winchester

WARNINGS : smut, nsfw (18+), fluff, alcohol, sub!dean, exhibitionism tbh, ✨saliva✨

WORD COUNT : 2.9k

A/N : title from green day’s song. I believe in subby dean and I love him! so, here’s the first dean fic I wanna share. I really appreciate y’all :’) Xx

Dean grunted softly as he moved his hand up and down his cock. He smirked beside him at his sleeping girlfriend, and then looked ahead at the silhouette of his hand beneath the sheets moving up and down, outlined by the street light shining through the thin curtains. The sound of the sheets ruffling was loud in the nighttime, almost muffling the sound of his cock, and he carefully shoved the sheets off himself while keeping Y/N blanketed.

He closed his eyes, bit his lip and started to picture Y/N sucking his dick. He pictured her awake comfortably naked between his legs with her hot mouth wrapped around him. It was more exciting knowing that she was sleeping next to him, that he was imagining her pleasuring him the way he knew she could if she were awake. He was so turned on, but he was mostly teasing himself, being quiet enough that Sam wouldn’t wake up, but loud enough so that Y/N would.

Sam had gotten drunk with Dean, but unlike Dean, he blacked out as soon as his overgrown body hit the bed. That meant nothing was waking Sam up anytime soon, not a monster, not an apocalypse, not even the way Dean panted trying to get himself off. He didn’t mind edging himself a bit longer, he was willing to wait as long as he had to before she woke up and gave him what he needed. And he needed her real bad, so he wasn’t gonna stop, but he wasn’t gonna let himself finish either.

After the hunt, a successful case of killing a pack of werewolves in the woods, Dean decided to take Y/N and Sam out for drinks. The thing was, when Dean got drunk, he became more clingy than usual and he would start acting cute. He remembered bits and pieces of what he did when he was drunk. From getting her into his lap while he talked to Sam and some random hunter in a green, leathery booth. To the way he clung to her the whole time, when he’d drunkenly gone and played pool with a bunch of idiot college students trying and successfully hustling them.

He remembered constantly kissing her cheek, holding her soft face in his hands to make out with her when he dragged her around the bar finding different things to do with himself. And he remembered flirting with her. He remembered that cute little smile on her face and the even more adorable blush that painted her cheeks when he gave her his famous smoulder.

He remembered that she’d stopped drinking after just one drink. She was taking care of him and Sam. She’d driven them back to the motel and she babied him into bed despite the fact that he was trying to seduce her. He blushed at the memory, the way he kissed her neck and groped her beautiful body, making it hard for her to take his clothes off so he could sleep comfortably.

He moaned softly at a particular twist around his cock, and he changed his fantasy, preferring to imagine all the dirty things Y/N would say to him as she fucked him. He could faintly remember how her walls felt around him, her sweaty body pressed against his, setting his skin on fire with her touch. Her name fell from his lips, spilled into the quiet room, and she shifted beside him at last. He whispered her name again and again, praying that she would wake up and make him cum herself.

He slowed the pace in which he jerked himself off when she nuzzled into his bicep, her soft lips still against his tense muscle. She mumbled something against his skin, but could only hear the sleep in her voice and was unable to decipher a word she said. He gazed down at her and squinted his eyes to make out her face, but he couldn’t see much as she was shadowed by his body. He only felt her hand move down his chest, warm and soft against his body. He gasped, squirmed when she brushed her fingertips against his tummy, and squeezed his eyes shut when she wrapped her small hand over his.

“You’re so loud,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

“Y/N,” he moaned, letting her fingers replace his. She stroked him lazily, felt her little smirk against his arm when he moved his hips up in search of more friction. “Please,” he whined quietly. He turned his whole body to face her so she changed her hand’s position, squeezing his cock torturously and rubbing her thumb over the leaking slit of his cockhead. “I can’t,” he gasped, pressing his forehead against hers.

She let go of his cock and pressed her lips firmly against his, “I’ve got you, baby,” she murmured against his mouth. His fingers dug into her waist, pulling her closer to him. “What do you want? Tell me, Dean,” she teased, moving her lips along his jaw and neck, thrilled to hear his heavy breaths.

“You,” he whispered, “I need you, need to be inside you right now,” he moaned. He pawed at her hips and started to tug her underwear down impatiently. She giggled, helped him get them off her, and laughed when he hung them over the lamp. He smiled softly at the sound and moved on top of her, settling between her opened legs before he leaned down to kiss her.

He slid his cock through her wet folds, felt her wiggle her hips, and gasp against his mouth when he pressed the head of his cock against her clit. “I thought you were too needy,” she whined playfully. He felt her pout against his lips and pulled away slightly attempting to make her face out in the darkness, only the yellow glow from outside illuminated her. He chuckled at her and grasped her hip, pinning her down to the mattress as he panted against her parted lips.

“You’re such a little tease,” he laughed softly, smirking at her when he sat back on his legs, lifting her legs onto his thighs.

He used the streetlight to guide his cock to her slick entrance, his plump lips parting with satisfaction at the sight of her glistening cunt stretching around his cockhead. He slid into her smoothly and he stared—utterly enchanted, as she took every inch of him until he was buried fully in her warmth.

“Like that?” He asked smugly and she rolled her eyes, her hands flexing on her thighs, squirming from how big he was. Dean smirked down at her when he noticed, swivelling his hips tortuously just to feel the clench of her walls around him. He collected saliva in his mouth and watched it drip down to her pussy, right on her folds.

He licked his lips to clear the lingering spit on his swollen lips and brought his thumb to her clit to smear his saliva over the sensitive nerve. He gently moved his hips against her, turned on at the sight of the black shirt she wore haphazardly scrunched around her waist from the angle he had her positioned in.

He leaned over her, placed his arm by her head, and dropped loving kisses along her jaw. Her heavy breaths mingled with his, the only sound bouncing off the cheap walls besides the gentle sound of the bedsprings. He used various methods to massage her clit until she was squirming beneath him again. Her walls continued to pulse around him, wet, warm, and driving him crazy. “I’m not gonna last,” he whispered shyly against her shoulder.

She pushed up against him gently with her hips, her hands held onto his triceps, so he moved back a little to check on her. “Everything okay?” He asked softly, distractedly slowing down the circles on her clit to study her flushed face.

When she nodded, he kissed her forehead, and started to pull out slightly to thrust back into her again, but he didn’t expect her to shove him back slightly, forcing his cock to slip out of her all the way.

He looked at her with confusion, “wha-“

He caught himself with his arms behind him, stared at her as his shirt she wore slipped down and covered her naked body again. She climbed onto his lap again, “you’re so pretty,” she murmured. Holding his chin with her fingers, she swiped her thumb across his bottom lip and his breath hitched. His cheeks started to warm up at the tingling that followed her finger along his lip and he whined again. “Shh, stop being so loud,” she told him quietly, and leaned forward to silence him with a heated kiss.

He slid his hands between her legs, shoving two fingers into her without a care, pumping them in and out, moaning into her mouth at the squelch his fingers and her cunt made around him. She sucked on his bottom lip and he groaned, grinding his palm against her clit and adding a third finger, feeling like he could cum just from the wetness that started to cover his knuckles and wrist.

“I love it when you get needy,” she panted, moving his hand away by grabbing his wrist. She lifted his wet fingers to her lips and licked her arousal off them, keeping her eyes on his as his lips parted in surprise. “Are you gonna cum?” She teased, placing his hands on her hips under the shirt she wore.

“Stop teasing me,” he whispered, swallowing some saliva to moisten his dry throat. She laughed quietly and he bit his lip, becoming flustered with her confidence. “Please,” he begged softly, lowering her hips to press against his so her wet pussy could brush against his throbbing cock.

She let out a faint hum, letting him fuck himself with both amusement and fascination. He closed his eyes despite wanting to feel demeaned by the look on her face and got lost in the tiny fragments of pleasure he was feeling. He pressed his forehead against her shoulder, focusing on teasing her soaked entrance with the soft head of his cock until she gave in and shifted to let him slip inside her.

“Fuck… yes,” he moaned, gripping her hips tightly as her warmth and her slick coated his cock. She ground her hips against his, squeezing his cock until he whined and bucked his hips up into her. “Fuck, don’t do that,” he hissed.

She chuckled mischievously, then shushed him as she slowly rolled her hips against his, his mouth parting. A broken moan left his lips, but it was immediately muffled by him when he bit her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. He thrusted his hips upwards, slowly moving in and out of her until she was pushing him onto his back and riding him.

He screwed his eyes shut, biting his lip so hard he thought he’d taste his blood soon. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, bruising her soft skin with his desperate touch. His eyes fluttered open to watch her lift herself up and down with her lips parted and swollen. He felt like cumming just at the sight of her and she must have expected a loud moan to fall from his now open mouth because she put her hand over it just as a groan rumbled in his chest, deep and hot.

Her walls spasmed around him, a quiet curse falling from her lips. She looked over at Sam cautiously, picking up the pace and keeping her hand over his mouth. He felt even more turned on, noting the way she shifted her hips to add friction to her clit. He whined against her hand, desperately meeting her thrusts as the bed springs started to squeak louder.

He didn’t even care if Sam woke up anymore, he tugged her hips forward, wanting her full attention on him. He felt his cock swell and twitch inside her, so close to spilling hot inside her. She was driving him crazy, especially with the way her walls squeezed his cock so tight as if it would shut her up.

It drove him over the edge and he came inside her almost involuntarily. Another moan from him heated her palm. She gasped from the unexpectedness of it, leaning over him, her soft hair tickling his skin. She moaned loudly into the bed, pressed her face into the sheets by his head as she trembled and came on his cock. Her warm walls quivered and dripped around him, her hips moving on his cock slower as she rode out her orgasm, his sweaty skin sticking to hers.

She turned her face slightly, her warm breath tickling his ear. He lifted his hand up to move her hair behind her ear and she removed her hand from his mouth, resting it over his thumping heart. They both laid there for a few moments, unmoving, panting in an attempt to catch their breaths and clear their hazy minds. He lovingly pressed kisses along her cheek, temple, and the tip of her ear, rubbing his hand up and down her sides under her shirt.

“That was so hot,” he said after a while, sounding breathless and hoarse. She laughed tiredly and she started to lift the top of her body off him, only to lean forward and kiss him deeply. He was smiling, his mouth readily open for her. His tongue slipped into her minty mouth, soft tongues rolling over each other languidly.

Both of them smiled into the kiss and he wrapped his arm around her waist, moving her onto her back and slipping out of her, careless about the mess he was making between their bodies. She hummed softly against his mouth, a little laugh making her part from his lips. He continued to admire her, fixing her sex hair as best as he could before he dropped a kiss on her forehead, trailing his lips down to her warm cheeks and neck.

“We have a long drive tomorrow, D,” she murmured, her nails gently scratching his scalp, “you should sleep now, I’ll take care of the mess.” He moaned quietly, agreeing with her, pressing his face into her neck and kissed the spot his lips were closest to.

“Mkay,” he mumbled, moving up off her. He looked around for his boxers and felt the bed shift as she made her way to the restroom to clean herself up. He grabbed her underwear off the lamp and grabbed his phone, using the lowest light level to check if they’d stained the sheets.

Despite having told him she’d take care of it, he didn’t listen. He shoved the clean sheets away, feeling both shy and prideful at the mess, and pulled the dirty covers off to hide them as best as he could and replaced them as quickly as he could with clean ones he always made sure to ask for beforehand when they got a room.

He moved out of bed when he was done, waddling to the bathroom with her underwear in his hand. He smiled fondly when he found her washing her hands with the water hardly turned on so it wouldn’t be loud and wake Sam up.

“Your underthings,” he said with a grin, holding them up for her. She turned to look at him and chuckled, drying her hands with a towel to take her underwear from him. “Allow me, my love,” he said dramatically, stopping her from taking them. She gave him a look but played along.

He squatted down in front of her and lifted her leg with his hand around her ankle. She held onto his shoulder for balance, allowing him to help her into her underwear with an amused and affectionate smile on her face that glowed in her eyes.

“Thanks, Dean,” she murmured. She pecked his lips when he stood back up to her face, after having pulled the soft cotton up her legs and comfortably in place around her hips. He squeezed her ass playfully, drawing a laugh from her.

She followed him with her eyes when he moved towards the sink to wash his hands with soap and warm water. She waited for him patiently, leaning against the doorway and playing with the hem of the black t-shirt. She admired him this time, took in the messy and soft spikes of his hair, his teeth pulling at his plump lip. He was gorgeous and he looked over at her, his eyes warm and loving as he took her in too.

“Let’s go to bed, my little flower.” Dean dried his hands with the same towel she used and reached out for her hand, seeing her roll her eyes and snort at the new pet-name he was trying out for her. “You know you like all the names I give you,” he smirked down at her, turning the lights off after her to make their way back to bed.

“I do,” she admitted after a while, biting her lip to stop her happy smile. He could see her thanks to the bright lights outside and the drawn curtains. A delightful feeling filled his stomach and made him feel warm all over. He took her face in his hands, giving her the type of kiss people would give each other if they were saying hello after missing each other their whole lives.

taglist

@spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 [+ 𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥] 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: dean, sam, castiel, and gabriel

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: dance macabre—ghost

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧

• When Dean first meets you in the middle of bumfuck nowhere on a hunt, he's not surprised that you know his name

• Afterall, he has brought on the apocalypse more than once, and the hunter community isn't exactly known for its ability for people to keep their mouths shut

• What does surprise him, though, is your knowledge on him as a person

• It's nothing creepy— the thought of someone knowing all about him in that way brings him back to where he first met Becky through Chuck, and the thought makes him shudder —but just enough to where it's obvious you've done some digging and people reading of your own

• "Brought back some pie with dinner; didn't know what you wanted so I got apple."

• "Careful handling this case, it's got some nasty demons. We don't want you diving head first into hell. Again."

• "No no, don't use that. It didn't work on that shape-shifter you ganked last year in Massachusetts, so it won't work on this one. Throw it out." You eventually say one night while looking in Baby's trunk for some ammo, and Dean finally turns to face you

• "How did you know that? How do you know any of these things?" He clears his throat, squinting. You shrug with a barely there smile

• "Who do you think cleans up your messes when you're done, Dean? And what can I say. Word gets around."

• It's a simple case of Dean's reputation preceding him. Although, as you discover, there's a lot more to the Winchester than just his precious car, a strange love for greasy food, and his ability to fight off a demon with his bare hands

• "You sure you aren't obsessed with me? Because its totally fine if you're obsessed. I mean, look at me." Dean asks you at one point while gesturing down at himself. He's leaning on his car door in what he probably thought was a sexy manner, watching as you lugged some equipment out to the vehicle. You manage to press your lips together just in time to hide your amused grin

• "Keep dreaming, man." You shake your head. "There's a difference between reading up on people, and stalking them."

• "So you admit it?" He grins misheviously, pushing himself off Baby. "That you've spent your spare time thinking about me?"

• "Sure. And those witnesses never mentioned you'd be this insufferable." You scoff light heartedly, even though thats exactly what some of them said, and leave it at that. But for the rest of the hunt Dean can't stop elbowing you in the ribs to make a playful remark; something that, strangely, you don't find yourself minding

𝐒𝐚𝐦

• Unlike his brother, Sam takes the information that you practically already knew him with a bit of embarrassment

• Sure, he had been (or was supposed to be) Lucifer's vessel, and sure he also had a habit of being at the center of everything world ending, but he never really conciders him anyone other than a hunter that just happens to get the worst cases

• So when you just offhandedly started dropping these facts about him, he's a little off put

• "How'd you know that?"

• "You're literally one of the most infamous hunters to ever exist, Sam. You tangle with angels. Most of us only ever get to meet a werewolf or two before a friend is organizing our funeral the week after."

• "Oh. Right"

• Gets a little curious after a while as to what you exactly know. It's not like he keeps a journal about his feelings that the public can read, and that this point he's just praying you haven't discovered Chuck's Supernatural series, so he'd probably ask you all of what you know and why you know it

• "So you're telling me you've done research on our hunting styles—" Sam asks you while leaning forward. You nod, so he continues. "—and all the people we've ever pissed off?"

• "Call it too much free time, which I certainly don't have enough of these days, but I knew if I ever ran into you two knuckle heads, and I knew it would happen eventually whether I wanted it to or not, then I would need to be prepared." You dragged a hand down your face and exhaled for a moment. "That meant making a checklist of every vamp, demon, or god you've ever had out for your head. And trust me, it's a lot."

• He's silent for a moment after you finish, but it doesn't take long for him to pipe up again

• "Can I see it?"

• Safe to say, after seeing the list, Sam started to rethink some of his past decisions

• "Seriously, how are we not dead yet??"

• "Buddy, I have no idea."

𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐥

• He does not understand why you seem to know so much about him. Not only as a person, but as an angel

• Castiel is used to the Winchester's asking questions. The first year of knowing them was filled with 'How Did You Do That''s and 'Can You Do This''s. He'd answer all of them, even if he found their questions to be on a kindergarten level most of the time, until eventually they had no more to ask

• You hadn't been like that. Castiel doesn't think he could ever recall you asking him things unless they were about hunts or special circumstances, like the time Sam lost his soul. Hell, you seemed to know more about him than some angels knew about themselves

• Grace knowledge, wing anatomy, biblical lore—you name it and Castiel's probably heard it come out of your mouth at some point

• He gets around to asking you about it one day, albeit very bluntly

• "You don't ask questions." Castiels voice sounds from behind you. You don't even bother to turn around; you heard his wings flutter the moment before he dropped in

• "What do you mean Cas?" You sucked some air between your teeth as you scribbled away at the papers before you. It was something Sam had asked you to follow up on, and you'd been at it for a hot minute now. Hopefully you could make this conversation quick so you could get back to it

• "About angels." A beat of silence. "About me."

• This time you do turn around in your seat to look at him. He's already studying you with that silent squint, and you resist the urge to mirror it

• "Why would I ask questions I already know the answers to?" You parry. The case papers lay on the table, forgotten by now. Your response gets you a rare, but endearing, Cas head tilt

• Upon further questioning, he finds out you'd spent a lot of your early hunting years doing nothing but reading up on anything remotely supernatural. Even calling them 'hunting years' was a stretch. You were more like a crazed researcher that never left the library than a hunter, even resorting to keep mountains upon mountains of notes on ancient lore stored away in the margins of dusty books

• "That's certainly explains why you weren't surprised when we met for the first time and I healed you." Cas's low voice drawled slowly after you gave him a moment to interject. "Or how you knew the symbol for sending us back to heaven before Dean or Sam ever did."

• "Like I said." You smiled to yourself, and Castiel got the feeling he was missing a part of the joke. "Lots of reading."

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥

• Do not bring up that you used to have an angel phase back in college. Under no circumstances should you reveal that. He will never let you live it down

• Especially if he finds out you used to study artwork and literature about him specifically

• It's all over the moment he finds your old school books. They're stuffed full of old crinkled pages with his name thrown in there. Of course, this was way back when the idea of angels being real was laughable to you and you still had dreams of graduating college, but that doesn't change to fact that the notes are there, and that Gabriel found them

• "Wait wait wait listen to this—" An old binder is clutched in the hands of a very amused and very heavenly being as he paces around your spot at a table. His eyes are skimming the pages as a speed quicker than light, and Gabriel's shit eating smile grows as he continues to read

• "The archangel Gabriel isn't depicted as much as his brothers Micheal or Lucifer in classic literature, but when he is, it is often as a symbol of great power and beauty—"

• "I'm going to kill you." You cut him off and groan with hot cheeks. Your hands had come up to cover your face a while ago in an attempt to keep what little dignity you had, but something told you it wasn't working

• "Glad to know you think I'm beautiful, sweet cheeks." Was all Gabriel said. You could hear the teasing lit in his voice. Sure enough, when you looked up to glare at him, he was already looking at you and wiggling his brows suggestively. It took you a total to three seconds to throw the closest thing at his head

• "Hey hey! Watch the beautiful goods!" He laughed while dodging a pencil. It his his chest anyway and bounced to the ground with a dull thud

• "Gabriel." Your tone was downright murderous

• "Okay, okay! I'll stop!"

• He does, in fact, not stop. Someone restrain him for the love of Chuck, for he is getting way too much enjoyment out of poking fun at you

• You're gonna have to avoid him for the next few weeks after that if you want to keep your embarassment levels to a minimum. No other way around it

• Let's just hope he never realizes you had to spend time in art class analyzing renaissance paintings of him in the nude. Now that would be the conversation to end all conversations

• "Heyyy, you never told me you had an art folder—"

• Oh shit.

[deanwinchestergf]

and why would an angel rescue me from hell? good things do happen dean. not in my experience. i'm not here to perch on your shoulder. i was getting too close to the humans in my charge. you. to everything there is a season. you made an exception for me. you're different. for what's worth, i would give anything not to have you do this. i learned my lesson while i was away, dean. i serve heaven, i don't serve men and i certainly don't serve you. but you guys aren't supposed to be there, you're not in this story. yeah, well, we're making it up as we go. i'm hunted, i rebelled and i did it all, all of it, for you. so what i'm thelma and you're louise and we're just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together? i need your help because you're the only one who'll help me. that's a pretty nice timing, cas. we had an appointment. what happened to you cas? you used to be human, or at least like one. but cas, you'll call right? if you get into real trouble? this is cas, guys. he has gone to the mat cut and bleeding for us so many freaking times, don't we owe him the benefit of the doubt at least? it sounds so simple when you say it like that, where were you when i needed to hear it? i was there, where were you? i'm doing this for you, dean. i'm doing this because of you. but we were family once, i would've died for you, i almost did a few times. i've lost lisa, i've lost ben and now i've lost sam. don't make me lose you too. cas, you child, why didn't you listen to me. you used to fight together, bestest of friends, actually. if you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time. the very touch of you corrupts. when castiel first laid a hand on you in hell he was lost. i'd rather have you, cursed or not. well, i'll go with you. i prayed to you cas, every night. cas, we're getting out of here, we're going home. i mean you kept saying you didn't think it would work, did you not trust me? cas, it's me. we need you, i need you. i won't hurt dean. cause you didn't trust me? you didn't trust me. please, man, i need you here. nobody wants him here more than i do. you gave us an order, castiel, and we gave you our trust. don't lose it over one man. you really believe we three will be enough? we always have been. his true weakness is revealed. you draped yourself with the flag of heaven but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. i'm glad you're here, man. how are you, dean? and then you'll kill the angel, castiel. now that one, that i suspect would hurt something awful. and when you turn, everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. everyone except me. i'm not gonna send lucifer into battle inside cas, what if he doesn't make it? it's not an it, sam. it's cas. but you're always there, you know? i could go with you. you mean too much to me, to everything. i'm gonna cure you of your human weakness, same way i cured my own. it's a gift, you keep those. you mean we? yes, dumbass, we. we lost everything and now you're gonna bring him back. we got cas back, that's a pretty damn big win. just don't get dead again. it's good to hear your voice. so this is goodbye? but i swear if he did something to her, if she's- then you're dead to me. either get on board or walk away. i don't know what's god and what isn't, and it's driving me crazy. dean, you asked what about all of this is real. we are. you used trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt, now you can barely look at me. i think it's time for me to move on. you didn't deserve that. since when do we get what we deserve? maybe if you didn't just up and leave us. i left but you didn't stop me. i should've stopped you. you're my best friend but i just let you go. and i forgive you, of course i forgive you. i'm sorry it took me so long, i'm sorry it took me til now to say it. you did it cas. okay, cas, i need to say something. you don't have to say it, i heard your prayer. well, here's to being right. you know what every other version of you did after gripping him tight and raising him from perdition? they did what they were told, but not you.

[girlboysam]

He was praying again. Dean couldn’t see him, but he could hear. Nothing distinctive, just mumbled words. Probably kneeling at the side of the bed, by the window—that was his favorite spot. Dean had just gotten out of the shower, and he’d learnt that while he showered, Sam prayed. Each night his rambling seemed longer. Dean felt like he was going insane. When had Sammy started believing? Where had he learnt it? What did he pray about?

Nothing that Sam kept secret like this could be good. He needed to know what was so important Sam had to pray to God about it. Was it morally correct to listen to a private prayer? Probably not. But it was Sam, and everything that was Sam’s was Deans. Always had been. So, he listened.

“Dear God, thank you for letting us return safe from this hunt. Thank you for saving Dean from that vampire.”

Dean snorted at that, that had nothing to do with some God. No, that was all him.

Sam took a deep breath before continuing, apparently done with his thanks. “God, are we judged for our thoughts? Is it a sin if I have never acted on it? I have prayed for forgiveness time and time again, and yet here I am again.”

What? What did he do desperately need forgiveness for? Was this about Jess?

“Father, please grant me forgiveness and guidance. Please let me wake up tomorrow and never think of him in that way again.” Sam had never treated their real father with that much respect. Guess only fantasy gets that treatment, Dean thought bitterly.

His voice soft and breathy, Sam begged, “Please Father, wash away my sinful thoughts of my brother.” Dean jolted, his head that had been pressed up against the peeling paint of the door jerking back. “Let my mind and body never yearn for his touch again.”

Sam shuddered and Dean fought the urge to go to his side. What was he saying? It didn’t make sense. Dean understood what he was saying abstractly, but it was all wrong. No, whatever thoughts Sam had about him, God wouldn’t fix him. Whatever yearnings he had, God wouldn’t take them away.

“Please God, save me.”

God didn’t exist. Dean did.

And Dean could save him.

[nuemanfilms]

— sam cumming in his pants while you’re just next to him in the bed you had to share in the motel, not to mention while you were asleep..

Content Warning masturbation (m), sam being a pervert (not on purpose), wet dream, based on 3.10, desperate!sam, fem!reader doesn’t wake up (heavy sleeper..), sam trying not to get caught, this is downright filth.

Summary Sam notices how your gown is sliding off your shoulder slightly after he wakes up from a wet dream and he can’t help but look at your bare breasts beneath the silk gown (he basically gets off to you while you’re asleep).

16+ I am not responsible for the content you consume under this age. That is your doing.

Sam laid on his bed, waiting for Dean to arrive back to the motel. When he heard a knock on the door, he got up and walked over to the door. Twisting the doorknob and opening it only to reveal you. The girl he’s been crushing on ever since Dean introduced you to him.

He took in your appearance, a tan trenchcoat covering your arms and your clothing underneath. He gulped, and he looked down at you.

“Uh.. What are you doing here? Sorry- I was expecting Dean.” He said awkwardly, a sheepish smile creeping onto his lips. You let out a small laugh.

“I wanted to see you, Sam.” You pushed your way past him, entering the motel. He watched in disbelief as you practically walked by him.

“Is there- uh, a reason why?” He asked, he was clearly confused by your sudden appearance. Instead of answering verbally, you dropped the coat off your shoulders, making eye contact with him as he took in your.. attire.

You wore a lace, black, and short gown. His eyes widened, he was definitely not expecting this. He could already feel his jeans tighten. You stepped closer to him.

“I just.. I want you so bad, Sam..” You said, he subconsciously leaned forward. Your lips nearly touching. He couldn’t believe this was reality.

When he stayed silent, you kissed him. Your soft, gentle lips pressing against his own. Next thing he knew, he was laying you down on the bed, making his way down your body.

His fingers found your lace panties, a matching set. He moaned, pulling them down before he attacked your exposed cunt, you tasted even better than he imagined..

You moaned out in pleasure, his name spewing from your lips as he devoured your pussy like a starved man.

“Sam— Sam.. Sam!” You moaned, your head tossed back against his pillow. Your breaths heavy-

He woke up with a gasp. Looking over to see you on the other side of the motel bed.

Fuck, he really was whipped for you.

You were asleep, your breaths even and your nightgown, that was not to mention, lace, slipping off your shoulder while you were unconscious. Your bare chest exposed ever so slightly, and he realized the problem he had in his jeans.

Damn it.

This was so wrong- but he really couldn’t help it. His cock throbbed for some sort of relief. He palmed himself, already feeling the wet spot right against the center of his covered crotch.

He bit his lip, hesitating, was he really about to do this?

He pushed the warnings in the back of his head, carefully unzipping his denim and sliding his hand beneath the thin layer of his boxers. He bit back a whine.

He could feel how turned on he was. How much he needed you.

He started with slow strokes, doing his best to hold back his sounds of his pleasure. He heard your breath hitch, and his heart beat fast in an instant.

When he looked over at you, you were still soundly asleep. He let out a sigh.

He began to feel himself edging closer, the lewd sounds of his hand against his dripping cock filling the otherwise silent room.

He was biting his lip so hard until he felt the metallic taste on his tongue.

He was so damn close, and he looked back at you again, your lips parted slightly.

He wanted to feel those lips on his dick. He wanted to feel your moans and the sounds of your gagging around his cock.

The more he imagined it, the more he went faster against his length, a small whine escaped him.

He prayed you didn’t hear that. He was imaging you in such inappropriate situations, imagining your legs spread as he pushed his cock between your fo-

Fuck, he couldn’t help the groan that escaped him as he coated his hand and the inside of his boxers with his sticky release.

he’d have to take a cold shower in the morning, but he was too spent to get up right now despite the mess in his boxers.

He always did wake up before you.