#how is dean soft and slow while sam is so rough..

[basilbubby]

So it's obvious I like spn, right?

I got my friend into it since I've been taking a break from watching it—I don't wanna burn out—and they've just gotten to s4 ep9....and we're both asexual. They freaked tf out and messaged ME about how Sam and Ruby kissed and then not even two seconds later they were ON EACH OTHER. I can't do this bro. This aired on TV. How. I'm still red because I completely forgot about that and other scenes I choose to skip because it feels too personal..How do y'all do this😖

[lvrb0ts]

Playing rough🪵

!!NOT MY GIF!!

relationship: Sam Winchester and F!Reader

warnings: choking kink, ageplay(?), smut, kinky cuffs, oral (M receiving), maybe more.

word count: 1.7k

ib: Sam's version of "Do you want me to do it properly?" by @octoberclidan , but with extra spice??

DT: @samwsundercoverlover

After a nest of vamps nearly killed me and poor Sam had to save me while Dean waited in the car for us, I just wanted to roll in embarrassment's grave We get back in the car, and seeing Dean sleeping peacefully, me and Sam both decide to spare him the details, not beat for his mouth. So Sam starts up the car and asks, "How's your head?" He drives onto the rumbled road. The sounds of Dean's snores are the only thing making this silence just as awkward. "Barely making up brain cells, thanks." He chuckles and quickly glances at you, then back at the road. "Anytime. Just don't get yourself killed next time." I mumble at his words in annoyance, but I continue to watch the roads pass by. Once I get home, I flop on the couch and sigh, going to grab the remote to watch some TV while Dean showers, but swiftly, I feel Sam yank it out of my hand. "Dude! The fuck?!" I exclaimed, confused, "Tonight's my night for movie night, remember?" That smug look on his face makes me want to wipe it clean off. "Fuck off!" I yank it back, and he looks annoyed, quickly trying to reach over for it by climbing onto me on this small ass couch. "SAM! Get off of me! YO-YOU'RE TOO HEAVY!" I grunt, holding the remote out of reach. Just then, I feel him press his forearm on my neck, choking me. I gasp for air, but he pushes harder, trying to get the remote controller, unaware of his damage. "Sa-sa-sam, Y-yo-.." I try to yell out, but his forearm pinning me down leaves me out of breath. "Shit!" He blurts and pulls away immediately, allowing me to gasp for air. I take a few deep breaths and moan out a bit from the pain and somewhat pleasure he brought to my neck. I quickly stiffen as I notice the moan I let out, but he just stares, concerned. "Did he hear it? Was that loud? Why did I moan?" my brain asks every 5 seconds. "I didn't realize i–." "I'm sorry. Are you okay?" He kneels beside me, but all I can think about is whether he acknowledges that stupid noise I made. "I'm fine, Sam. Thanks." He nods, and I shamefully walk off. "Y/n," he calls out. "Y-yeah?" I turn around, still rubbing my neck. "Did you like it?" he asks, causing my eyebrows to furrow. "Li-like? Like what?" "Li-like the choking thing." He looks dead serious, but I laugh, still thinking he's unserious, and then a chill down my spine to my core stops the laughter. "I mean, from that moan you led out, it sounded like you liked it, and I know when a woman likes something, sweetheart," he whispers hoarsely, slowly walking up to me. His height against mine is making me feel a knot in my stomach tighten. "I know how to do it right. Just for you." The wetness he causes to ooze from my folds dampens the fabric of my panties, making my sensitive nub grow needy. "Sam, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to——" He cuts me off with a swift grip on my neck, making me look up at him he then says, "Shhh..be a good girl and listen very carefully to my next set of rules." I'm so taken aback by his sudden change—the feeling of heat rippling down my body into my stomach and out of my pulsing clit. I give him a nod before deciding to ask, "What about Dean?" He smirks and shakes his head, still gripping my neck. "Don't worry about him. He's not our current concern."

He reassures, now kissing the nape of my neck, his grip is stronger now. "But he's just two doors away." I breathlessly whisper, and he gnarls along my ear. "I said. Don't. Worry. About. Him." He remarks, his voice fully hungry for lust. "Go into my bedroom, and there you'll find a pair of cuffs in my drawer. Set them close by, then slowly undress yourself..as slow as you possibly can.. deprive me." He whispers into my ear, placing soft kisses on the back of my ear, still gripping my neck—not too hard but not too gentle. "You will then sit in a W position and cuff those pretty little hands behind your back. I'll give you all ten minutes to yourself to get yourself cute and pretty. Need more time?" He asks at the end, but I just shake my head. "Go." I feel him spank my ass, causing me to have a pep in my step as he removes his grasp from my neck. I start to walk over to his room and do as he says. I never once dared to go through his stuff, but the minute I open his drawer, I see several extra-large golden packets. I push past them, pick up the black fuzzy cuffs, and blush at how they compliment the lace set I currently have on. I continue to climb on the bed, stripping my clothes one by one. I can hear his anticipation from all the way over here, causing my cheeks to bruise in blush. I sit in a W position and cuff myself with my arms behind my back. I give myself a moment to adjust as the lace on my panties rubs my clit I hitch my breath, trying not to lean on it, but it's like this was intentional. Sam's heavy footsteps approach the door, and without warning, he opens the door. "That's my good girl." I feel him grab my chin to look up at him, softly brushing my tongue with his thumb. "You're so gorgeous." I feel my body shrivel in lust. He then pinches my buds through my bra and says, "Look at me." I look down at him, feeling my cunt get soaked by the second. He sucks on one bud, twirling the other with his free hand. I moan out loud, feeling pulses down my wet clit. "S-sam!" I cry out, and he covers my mouth. "Shhh..shhh..princess." He shushes me and sinks his hands into my panties. He grunts as he feels my slick pussy, and his middle and ring fingers rub my quivering nub.

"Fuck!" I muffle out; that shit-eating grin he has almost ruins me. "Awww, how cute! The way your body purrs for me, sweetheart, it's beautiful." I feel him uncuff me; subsequently, he hums into my ear, slowly lowering me on my back. Sam's tongue slithers from my ear to my neck all the way down to my pussy, wrapping his lips around my quaking nub and sucking it slightly, causing a loud moan. "Oh my god," he groans. I feel his fingers seep deep into me, making me arch my back with the continuous curls he makes and his continuous sucking on my vibrating nub. "You're so fucking tight, sweetheart." His words make my walls clamp around his fingers tighter and tighter. He moves up to his full height and points in front of him, and I immediately go to the edge of the bed where he is pointing. "What a good girl, already knowing her place." Sam pets the top of my head, causing a small blush to appear on my cheeks. I see him gesture to his belt, and I nod now undoing while on my knees. He leans over and gives my ass a good spanking, leaving a nice cherry-tinted blush on my ass. Once I unfinished his belt, Sam pulled my hands behind my back and cuffed them, depriving me of being able to stroke his semi-hard cock. He pulls it out and opens my mouth with his thumb. "I just want to take it all in. Please, Sam." I beg; I seem pathetic. "Hush and wait. The more you beg, the less dick you'll get. Understood?" I nod, but he yanks my neck, gripping it. "Use your words." "Understood, sir." Sam growls at the nickname. "Atta girl." He continues to tap his curved tip on my tongue, holding my head as if I were just a toy. He grunts, closing his eyes, making such a hot O face now getting rough with it, and fully inserting his curved length into my mouth. I gag, but take it all up to his base, and Sam holds it there for a few seconds before pulling it out. "Such a trained little girl. Who taught my little girl how to take cock like this?" He smacks my cheek, demanding answers. Before I could give an answer, he set a command. "Do me a favour; breathe in." I do as such, and he immediately shoves his cock into my throat, depriving me of oxygen and making my spit dribble between my still very perky tits. Sam holds my head, pushing his hard and curved dick pass my breaking point. It hurts, but fuck, I love it. He finally pulls away, and I spit out his precum, my mascara now sweating off. "That's exactly how Daddy loves seeing his little princess. A fucking hot mess. You're so small. That throat is so tiny." He continues these motions, but now grips my throat until he reaches his high. He stops just then before he nuts and decides to sit me on his face, uncuffing me to stroke his girth. "Hands are so small they can barely wrap around my dick. God, I love you." He sounds breathless. Sam laps my cunt as I now stroke his dick whilst shamelessly riding his face to my end, I'm barely able to do much due to my trembling. I feel the knot in my stomach get loose, and he wraps his forearm around my stomach, pinning me down on his face. Swirling my clit with the glory of a tongue. Sam finishes, but I don't pay much mind as I start to feel my stomach come undone. " I came down from my high after a while; everything sounded muffled, and I saw blur, but I turned to the left and saw Sam cuddling me, brushing my hair while I rested on his chest. "There she is." He smiles. "Did I wear you out too much, little one?" "A bit." I give a cockdrunk smile, and he kisses my forehead. "So, what does this make us?" I ask nervously. "What do you want this to be, sweetheart?" He continues to kiss my face, slowly creeping down to my collarbone. "I want to be more than friends." "Then it's settled, princess." Sam blushed and petted me, settling me to sleep.

A/N: didnt proofread this.. sooooo enjoy <3

[according2thelore]

rereading "my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear" and like... it's so mommycore. especially since dean in that world ages and sam never will. oh my

(for those interested, the link to the fic is here!)

omg you're so right...my first mommyfic...

and honestly? i stand by that. dean would be full-tilt mothering. mommycore. mommymaxing (is that what the youth are yapping about now?)

cut for mommy mild nsft lol

do i think sam "whatever-the-magic-pill-is-i'll-take-it-too" winchester would turn dean no matter what (against his will if he has to) so they can be together forever? yes. do i still LOVE imagining forever young vampire sam and human dean? why yes.

not only can he provide for one of sam's most basic needs, he kind of HAS to, to keep sam safe and alive. sam needs him to live, and dean's body has become suddenly something more worthy and worth respect to himself. he kind of jokes if sam has any requests, and sam awkwardly asks if dean'll drink a different kind of beer because miller makes his blood taste weird and dean actually fucking does it.

and dare i say...there comes a point when dean is old enough to physically look like sam's father and god it makes him so happy and proud when they're sitting at a diner and dean gets complimented that he raised his son right and he's such a good kid.

like yes!!! that is his kid!!! that is his baby!!! thank you for noticing!!! sammy is such a good boy!!!

that is dean's ideal world: a sam that is pretty much invulnerable, who can't get sick or get hurt or die except in a very specific circumstance. i am positive they find a work-around for the sun-avoidance, so dean just gets sammy full-time who never gets old and needs him to provide his basic needs.

not to mention the way that vampirism kind of mimics breastfeeding in a way? hear me out! sam gets squirmy and agitated, and keeps looking at the thump of dean's pulse at his throat. sam doesn't have to breathe anymore, but automatically syncs his breathing to dean's. dean knows he's hungry because sam's broken their shared breathing rhythm as he inhales deeply, taking dean in. dean pulls the car off at the nearest exit and pulls them into the far corner of an abandoned gas station parking lot and pulls his shirt off, tilting his head back and pulling sam's head down in close, and sam is huffing loud breaths, quiet whimpers half-cut off as he sinks his teeth into the familiar notch of dean's neck, latching on. dean pets through sam's hair a low there ya go sammy there ya go, and sam hand's hands ball into fists against dean's skin, mind going fuzzy and hazy and mouth filled with deandeandean.

as dean gets older, he takes such satisfaction in seeing his callused, scarred hands next to sam's smooth, soft ones. he takes such pride in how well he's taken care of him, in how his body is a home for sam.

sam will nose in close, mewling and quiet when he gets hungry, gentle and apologetic as he crawls into dean's lap to feed from his neck. he'll get snarly and possessive if dean tries to pull him off, because this is as much sam's body as it is dean's, and dean shudders and presses sam closer because he loves being owned.

sam sometimes get aggravated and rough, and dean loves that just as much. sam's demanding hands kneading at the back of his neck to make the blood rush closer to the skin, growls and rumbling as he bites down on dean harder than usual and humps up into the cradle of dean's thighs, giving him everything, taking everything like it's owed to him.

and while dean kind of loves the way their appearances make their dynamic immediately respectable to others, dean feels weird about how he has pounds he can't pack away anymore while sam has an eternal six-pack and biceps as big as his head. dean kind of shrugs sam off when sam wants to take him apart nice and slow like c'mon you don't have to do that and sam is fucking baffled because this body has literally made him in all ways but genetic.

it raised him and sheltered him from nightmares and blocked stray knives and bullets and claws and is pumping sam's blood through his veins, the blood that keeps him alive and the blood they share.

dean has five favourite scars: two on the apex of his thighs, two on his wrists, and one at the base of his throat, the left side, above his heart. these are the scars that give sam life, that barely have time to heal over before sam is pawing gently at dean's knee, big eyes and unlined face and teeth already peeking over his lip because he knows dean will give in, dean will always give him what he needs when he needs it and will pet through his hair and coo as he does.

like that is MOMMY!!!! that is sam's MOMMY!!!!!!!

((also vampire demon blood sam would be INSANE because not only is it so much easier for him to get the blood, it's also kind of proving that he IS the monster he feared AND he's telling dean that his sustenance isn't enough anymore, that he CAN and WILL find satisfaction in another's body and YIKES!))

anyway, this ask was such a lovely little surprise, anon!!! thank you so much!! mwah! <3

-lizzy

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Not Alone

Summary: The reader is having a rough day but things get strange when an unannounced visitor shows up at her door...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,500ish

Warnings: language, mentions of death, angst, fluff

A/N: So much angst in this one. Enjoy!

Today was just one of those days. Nothing caused it, not really. You simply woke up and knew today was going to be a struggle.

You went through the motions like you were supposed to, got dressed, did your hair, forced a smile on your face in the mirror. You made a fast breakfast and made the idle morning chit chat at work that was expected of you. You were doing exactly what was expected of you.

Until you walked through the front door that evening, walked upstairs and curled up on bed.

You didn’t want to try anymore today. You were done. You just wanted to get out of the stuffy clothes, take a hot shower and go back to bed forever.

You growled when the doorbell rang while you were changing and whoever it was wouldn’t let up. You grabbed the closest pair of sweats and shirt you could find, clenching your fists as the person kept hitting the button.

“What!” you shouted as you went down the stairs, tearing it open with far too much force.

“Bad day?” he asked, lifting his head up so you could spot the green eyes under the brim of his baseball hat.

“Dean? You’re-“

“Dead? Debatable,” he said with a smile. “Well actually not debatable. I’m pretty dead. I got a hall pass to come visit.”

“Why-“

“Chuck made me a deal,” said Dean. “Plus he so owes me, for like a ton of crap.”

“I mean-“

“I thought I told you to go have a life if something ever happened to me,” he said, reaching out a hand to move the hair out of your face. You leaned into his touch, still warm and soft.

“Well I’ve been a bit sad lately for obvious reasons,” you said, laying your hand over his.

“Ah. Right,” said Dean. “Uh, why aren’t you with Sam anymore?”

“Because we got in a fight and he threw me out,” you said.

“Uh huh. I see,” he said. “Well, go pack your bag.”

“I’m not going back,” you said. “I-”

“Uh huh,” he said, snapping his fingers. You blinked and were in your old room in the bunker, still looking like a hot mess in your sweats, Dean leaning against the doorframe, smirking under his hat brim. “I die and suddenly now it’s okay to leave shirts on the floor? Feel like I got scolded a few times for that.”

“I left in a hurry,” you said, closing your eyes. “I also left for a reason, Dean. I-”

“You’re hiding,” he said.

“I just want to be left alone,” you said.

“Nope,” said Dean. “Sam!”

“What are you…” you trailed off, Dean suddenly gone.

“Dean?” called out Sam, poking his head in the room. “I thought...hey. You’re back.”

“Hey, Sammy.”

“So,” said Dean, nearly giving you a heart attack when he popped into your passenger seat later that night. “You moving back in with Sammy?”

“Don’t do that!” you said, gripping the steering wheel tight.

“Ah, come on. It’s a little fun,” said Dean with a laugh, glancing in the backseat. “Seems like everything’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Are you dead?” you asked.

“As a door nail,” said Dean.

“Then-“

“Oh come on. You know us. Just because we die doesn’t mean we stay dead,” he said.

“So you’re back?” you asked.

“Eh...think of it as I have visitation rights at the moment,” said Dean.

“I can’t move on if you’re gonna just pop by whenever,” you said.

“Because you were doing a stellar job of it when I left you alone,” he said, the car engine slowing as you were forced to pull over. You revved the engine but it didn’t move, Dean cocking his head at you. “Y/N.”

“I got a job and rented a house and I have moved on,” you said. “Stop messing with my car.”

“Sure, you moved. Moved on is debatable,” said Dean.

“Well you’re my freaking soulmate so how exactly do you suggest I get over you?” you shot back, tears welling in your eyes. “I miss you. So much and I feel so alone and I...I just feel so alone, Dean.”

“Geez, you really don’t remember? I thought you were playing dumb but obviously you’re in some kind of shock over this whole thing,” he said.

“Shock over what? You dying?” you scoffed.

“More like you dying, sweetheart,” he said. “Although technically, we’re both dead.”

“Excuse me? I’m not dead, Dean,” you said. “I didn’t die.”

“Oh boy,” he said rubbing his temples. “Uh, yeah, you did. We all did. Sammy and you got stuck in this limbo though. Sammy figured it out after a few days but you...you don’t remember. Huh. Here I thought you were playing hard to come to heaven. I was trying to ease you into this but apparently you just don’t remember,” he said.

“So if I’m dead but not in heaven…” you said. “I’m a ghost?”

“No. You’re in heaven,” said Dean, giving you a smile. “You seem to have...wandered off is all. I thought maybe you were hiding on account of the whole dying thing being a bit jarring but…looks like we should have kept a better eye on you, kiddo.”

“So I'm in heaven with you,” you said.

“Yes,” said Dean.

“But I’m not in the same heaven as you,” you said.

“Now you’re getting it,” he said with a smile. “You’ve been lost for a few months. Chuck said he can feel you getting sadder, made it easier to find you. You aren’t supposed to be out in this limbo area. So why don’t you move on and come hang out with your family in our heaven?”

“How do I do that?” you asked.

“Stop thinking about it,” he said. You stared at him, watching the scenery behind him shift to a quiet suburban street. “Ah, there we go. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“I was…I bought you time back at that field,” you said, suddenly remembering what had actually happened.

“Yeah. I’m not thrilled about that but we still got the bad guy in the end. Hey, you wanna meet my dad? He’s been dying to meet you,” said Dean.

“Seriously,” you said, Dean snickering to himself. “Maybe slow down a little. I’m still getting used to the fact that I died.”

“You died like four months ago. How much time do you need?” teased Dean.

“You want to give me a run through of all this? Like why I got lost in the first place?” you asked.

“You got here before me, both you and Sam. I think you both got a little confused. He said he was. It’s why he left you. He knew where he was going but couldn’t bring you along yet,” said Dean. “He feels bad about that. It’s why he popped into the ‘bunker’ but you rushed out of there before he could really talk to you.”

“So this is our heaven?” you asked. Dean hummed and took hold of your hand, pulling you down the street on a walk.

“Yup. The blue house over there is ours. Sammy’s next door in that green one. My parents are down the road in that tan and stone one. Your parents are right around the corner,” he said. You had to stop and look at him, a car honking at you urging the both of you to step over to the side. You saw Charlie give Dean a wave as she drove past, your neck practically getting whiplash.

“How...how…” you said, Dean smiling.

“Sammy and I had a slight discussion with Jack. We came up with this whole idea of shared heaven. It’s like how they used to do it with the greatest hits thing but we kind of get to live again. Sort of cool,” said Dean. “People have seemed to like it. It’s nice to see everyone.”

“Yeah, that’s nice,” you said, Dean humming as he planted a kiss on you. You were starting to feel lighter as he did it, a little burst of happiness going off in your chest that turned into a peaceful contentment.

“Mmm, I bet you feel better now,” he said, nuzzling your cheek. “Sorry it took so long to find you.”

“Leave it to me to get lost when I die,” you said, smiling as you hugged him. “So what do we do now?”

“Whatever we want,” he said, kissing you again. “We could have a family dinner at our place tonight. Your parents, mine, Sammy and Jess...just something quiet for your first day.”

“I’d love that, Dean,” you said. “Thanks for finding me.”

“I’ll be honest, this place is nice but it sucks without your soulmate,” he said, tilting his head and licking his lips. “I’m so happy you’re not alone anymore, sweetheart.”

“You too, baby. You too.”

[roonyxx]

The Raven: Part 7

Summary: A new threat to the world brings the boys back in action. She is big and bad, very bad. But is everything as it seems or is there more to her story?

Pairing: Dean x reader

Trope: enemies to lovers

Word count: 2162

(SPOILERS) Chapter warnings: language, tension, +18 smut, rough fucking, unprotected sex (be smarter than this!)

A/N:  sorry it's been a while since i updated! Life got a little busy but i'm back now, i hope you enjoy it :)

The Raven Masterlist

My Masterlist

Buy me a coffee

“I will make it my life mission to count all your freckles and turn them into a star map.” She hums at me as her fingers trace so delicately over my cheeks.

“All my freckles? You will have a lot of work, sweetheart” I smile at her and push her hair behind her ear, kissing her temple.

“I know, especially the freckles on your butt, they’re my priority.”

I can’t help but laugh at how cute she is, “of course they are.”

I let my hands wander over her body, tracing the curves, from her shoulder blades to the dip of her back and the curve of her ass.

Licking my lips I watch her pupils dilate as I grab her cheek in my hand and give it a firm squeeze.

“Dean… Sam is waiting for us. We will be late.” She says but I can already hear the defeat in her voice.

Moving both hands to her hips I move her until she is laying on top of me. Nothing feels better than her skin on mine.

I start kissing her neck and she moans for me.

“Dean…”

I continue my path along her throat until I start to feel her hips move against me. My hard cock is trapped between our bodies, the lips of her pussy hugging my shaft as she drags her core up and down my length.

“You’re soaking me, baby.” I whisper against her ear.

“Of course I am, you’re perfect for me.” She sits up, pressing her hands against my chest as she keeps rubbing against me.

I move my hands to guide her hips. I need to be inside her but I let her set the pace. I love watching her do whatever she wants with me.

After one long drag she finally grabs my cock and lifts it up, sitting up on her knees she positions me at her entrance before slowly sinking down.

She is so perfect and tight and wet and warm. I swear I can come just like this, just at entering her.

But my baby deserves more.

“F-fuck, even after three years, you still stretch me out every time.” She moans as she lowers herself until her soft curls touch my lower belly. She leans forward to rub her clit against my pelvis.

“B-because you’re so freaking tight” I grunt loud when she keeps rubbing, I’m so deep inside her, “you gotta move or this will be over very soon.”

She chuckles and starts lifting herself up, “Already? What about your famous stamina, Winchester?”

“Seven orgasms yesterday wasn’t enough proof of my stamina? You need more baby?”

She chuckles but it turns to moans as she torturedly slow lowers herself again, she leans down to kiss my neck. I can’t help the moan that slips from my lips as her tongue finds that soft spot.

“I’m trying to let you lead, you’re making it hard, baby.” I pant.

“Maybe I want you to break my control, maybe I want you to break me.” She emphasizes her words by biting down on my earlobe.

And that’s all it takes for me to snap.

Grabbing her ass in my hands I lift it up just enough for me to be able to thrust into her from below. If she wants me to break her, I will.

I start pounding into her, so hard and so fast. Her nails dig into my shoulders as she holds on. The room fills with the sounds of her moaning, my grunting and skin slapping against skin.

I use her butt to push her up and down onto me.

“FUCK DEAN” she screams and I can’t do anything but smile, she loves it when I break her, her pussy is soaking me so much I can feel her arousal dripping down my balls.

“Are you gonna come for me baby?” I groan, “Are you gonna clench my cock like a good girl?”

“Y-yes, yesyesyesyesyesyes!” she chants.

I slap her ass hard as I go even deeper, touching her cervix with every thrust.

“I’m gonna fill you, do you want my cum, baby?”

“YES!” her walls clamp around me with the promise of my cum, as if they’re trying to milk me. I know she’s close all she needs now is my permission.

“Come for me, Y/n.” I moan into her ear.

And with that she falls apart. Her walls throb and clench around my cock, breaking my own grip as I come and fill her with so much cum it’s dripping out of her and onto my balls.

Her whole body trembles at her intense climax and she moans my name over and over until her walls flutter and relax around my cock.

I grab her face and kiss her sloppy, half moaning, half panting into her mouth.

“I love you so much” I tell her.

“I love you too, Dean.” She smiles.

A banging on the door makes us both jump.

“You’re going to be late to your own wedding! Get dressed you two, we leave in thirty minutes!” Sam screams from the other side of the door.

“We’re coming!” I scream back but the banging doesn’t stop, it only becomes louder.

“Dean!” I frown at her, her eyes filled with tears, looking terrified, screaming so loud I need to cover my ears.

“DEAN”

I wake up in a gasp, soaked in sweat, I rub my chest at the ache there.

I look around and see I’m in my room in the bunker, alone this time.

Rubbing my face I lift the covers and sigh as I have covered them, once again, in cum…

The dreams are only getting more intense now. Every night I learn more about her, about Y/n.

My wife…

The banging makes me jump.

“Get your ass out here, Winchester!”

The Raven, she’s been here ever since I told her about my first dream three weeks ago. Sam and I absolutely did not agree with her staying , but she said that I could cause a rip in the fabric of time and space and she’s the only one who can close it, so she ‘had’ to stay.

She’s grumpy as fuck in the morning and wakes me up every day to brief me on my dreams.

I have not told her about all the sex I have been having in them.

“Yeah yeah!” I yell back. I clean up, strip my sheets and get dressed.

When I open the door she is on the other side with her arms crossed.

“That’s the third time this week you’re changing your sheets, you got bladder issues?” she asks me.

“No.” I grunt, “No talking before coffee.”

I drop off my sheets and go to the kitchen where she is waiting for me with coffee. She hands me the mug and waits for me to finish it.

This has been our little morning ritual, I noticed that she’s much more tolerable if she eats before she speaks and if what she eats is chocolate.

So I hand her a piece and wait for her to finish.

“You must think I’m stupid.” She says.

“What?”

“Washing your sheets so often. You’re dreaming about fucking her, aren’t you?”

“That’s none of your fucking business.” I snap at her, because it’s not.

“You should have told me, it’s important. How is it? Are you already married? Or is it before. With or without condom?”

I scoff “Like hell I’m telling you. What does a condom have to do with timelines!”

“Everything” she answers, “You need to tell me everything.” She grabs her notebook and looks at me, waiting for me to begin describe my dream.

“No, I’m not telling you about sex with my wife.”

“Your fake, not real wife?” she chuckles, “Did you see her face?”

“I did but I forgot.”

She sighs, “Anything else you did see?”

Her tits, fuck she has incredible tits…

“Focus Dean, I can see you’re getting lost in it. You fucked, so I suppose you saw her body.”

“Yes I did.”

“And…? Come on Dean , trying to make things work.” She starts scribbling in her book.

“She’s gorgeous and perfect, perfect boobs, perfect ass and a perfect pussy! Is that what you want to hear?” I grunt.

She looks at me. Her eyes wide behind her sunglasses. I don’t know why she keeps wearing them, I know she has eyes.

“You care for her?” she asks.

“Of course I do, she is… was my wife.”

“She’s not real. She will not ever be real. Caring for her is a dumb choice, Dean. You have to push her away. You should have told me you were having sex, for how long?” she demands.

“What does it matter.”

“How long Dean!” she screams at me.

Never has she been like this, she was always cold, in different, barely caring about the dreams. But now…

“Are you… jealous?”

She scoffs loud, “What? No. I need to know.” She squirms in her seat and looks down at her notebook.

“You are… you’re avoiding eye contact. You’re jealous!”

She jumps up and grabs my chin in her hand, her long sharp nails digging into my cheeks, her face is inches from mine.

“I am not. I do not care for you.” She sneers.

I grin, “Then why are you trying so hard to help us? You’re easy, R.”

“Don’t” her grip tightens, “Call me that.”

I push my luck and push a little forward, I can feel her breath, she’s beautiful in a way.

“Or what?” I challenge her and I see her eyes snap towards my lips when I grin.

She suddenly pulls my face towards hers and kisses me, deep and all dominant. I grip her waist and tug her onto my lap as her other hand slides into my hair.

Her sharp nails slide from my chin to the side of my neck.

She’s intoxicating, her smell, her taste, I need her closer.

Tugging her flush against me she starts to roll her hips against my crotch and a moan escapes me.

She grunts and gets up, pushing her shorts down and bending over the table in front of me.

“Fuck me.” She pants.

I don’t need to be told twice.

I get up and push my pants down, taking my cock in my hand I look at her as I stand behind her.

I haven’t been able to fuck anyone because it felt like I was cheating on Y/n, but with her… it doesn’t feel wrong at all.

“If you wait any longer I’m leaving.” She grunt, looking over her shoulder at me, she reaches a hand between her legs and tugs me forward by my underwear. Slapping away my hand, she grabs my cock and puts it at her entrance, once my tip touches her heat I push in and moan.

“Fuuuck” She tilts her head back and moans, her walls are throbbing around my cock as she adjusts to my size.

She grabs the edges of the table and spread her legs more, “fuck me, Dean.”

I bottom out and grind against her, making her moan my name, I slap her ass hard and then I start thrusting, hard.

“Fuck yes, Dean!” her nails dig into the table and I grunt when I can feel her clench tight around me, spurring me on.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, feel so good wrapped around my cock.” I pant.

One of my hands gathers her hair in a ponytail and I wrap it around my hand, tugging her head up I make her sunglasses fall off. I tug more so she is arching her back and her ass sticks out more.

I pound into her so hard that the table starts moving across the room with every thrust, I’m sure I’m bruising her, marking her. It makes my cock twitch harder.

She’s moaning and pushing back on me. I can feel she’s getting close, her walls tightening more and more around me.

“B-Break me, Dean.” She moans right before she falls apart and takes me down with her.

I let her hair go to grab her hips with both hands as I come deep inside her, filling her up with so much cum it drips down her thighs. Her entire body convulses before me and her pussy grips me so tight, I fear I might lose my dick.

I lean over her back and moan loudly as I come a second time because of her clenching, I can’t help the name that escapes my lips because only one woman can make me feel like this.

“Y/N!”

She freezes and looks over her shoulder at me.

“What” she pants.

“I- I’m sorry-“ my sentence gets cut off by a blinding pain in my chest, it cuts my breath and my words, I fall back and the last thing I see are The Raven’s terrified eyes before everything goes black.

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You can support me here if you loved it :D

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Keep Reading break is a good idea, since you and I both seem to be writing essays about him, but how can we not?! 🥹

I agree completely with everything you say here! I love a dominant Dean, mostly, but I think he's more than cool if the woman wants to take control, which is also awesome!! 😍😍

Yes, to the fact that the platonic women in his life help to show how he really feels about women. And every one of those ladies, Ellen, Jody, Donna, Charlie, would have KICKED his ass if he was a misogynistic pig. Lol!!

I do also LOVE the way he immediately changes his reaction to Shaylene when he finds out that she's being used as a tool for a demon. You're right, he immediately wants to help her.

I also appreciate the fact that even before he learns she's working for a demon he tells her that he won't pay for sex. He isn't belittling or demeaning to her, he's just tells her honestly. And his "motto" is a good one, I think since while, imo, there's nothing wrong with being a sex worker on your own terms, unfortunately there is a lot of exploitation in that world, so it's better that he not take the chance that he's sleeping with someone who may not actually want to be there.

Yes, Sam and Dean seem to have a very different "techniques" in bed. Lol! And yes, while Dean clearly CAN take control, and make women beg (I wanna know what the "thing with the - thing" is too! 🤤) mostly (when he's not demonic anyway!) we see him being very sweet, and gentle and loving in bed. Holding hands, keeping eye contact, going slow, soft kisses and connection seem to be very important to him. (Though we do see other moments when, as you said, sex is clearly just fun and pleasurable. I'm thinking of the "Wonder Mint Twins" from 3x01 and Suzy from 9x08.)

But yes, with Sam it seems to be all about control and roughness, which, yes, clearly his partners are more than fine with as well. Lol!

All this to say that 100% Dean is the sweetest bean, and it's ridiculous in my mind to think he's misogynistic.

And also, Jesus, yes! Why can't he be real? I REALLY need to find out what the "thing with the - thing" was. 😄

I know some people think Dean is a "ruthless Casanova" like you mentioned, a jerk of a womanizer but he's far from that ! Yeah, the guy loves sex. And women. Yes, he can't keep it in his pants and won't turn down an opportunity to get laid. But when it comes to it, we've literally seen how it is. And it's sweet, and gentle, and delicate, and loving, and considerate, and fun. I mean, he was into "sexy rules" ! I know that he probably got a girl in every town and even if sometimes he lied about who he was or what he did for a living, he never lied about it being just a one night stand. And we just have to actually look at his face after an unexpected kiss. Or when a girl hits on him and is clear about wanting him. I mean, Andrea ? Anna ? Ellie ? He's just all shy and flustered and surprised, so how can this be the expression of an asshole playboy ? My man is a lover and just loves having a good time with anyone willing to share a night with him. And the women he shared more than one night with ? The ones he had actual feelings for ? He was one loving, adorable, protective man. I know this man isn't real but, ugh, he confirmed the kind of guy I like and probably put way too high expectations for my future love life 😭😅

Sorry to have bothered you with this monologue, feel free to ignore this ask ! 😘

Are you kidding?! Never apologize for talking to me about anything, but least of all Dean Winchester. I could write an entire thesis on him, and I still wouldn't want to stop talking about him! 😍 Plus any chance to chat with you is more than welcome! ❤️

I agree wholeheartedly with everything you've said here. I'll never understand people who equate his love of sex and pleasure with being a womanizer, or playboy. Or even worse - act as though it makes him a misogynist! 😠🙄

We literally only ever see women quite happy to be with him (and why wouldn't you be?) women he never pressures or creepily pursues. In fact, as you mentioned, most of the time, it's women coming on to him. (Again, not at all surprising.) And usually, when they do, he's all flustered, and surprised.

And though many people use the interaction that you mentioned, in 10x07 between him and Shaylene, where he's talking about "sexy rules" as "proof" that he's obviously a sub, I've always seen it as his happiness and willingness to talk about boundaries, and what she's willing and not willing to try. I think that's the OPPOSITE of misogyny. In spite of his eagerness (*ahem* horniness 😜) he's still more than willing to talk things out, so they both feel safe and comfortable and can have a good time. (Not that I'm trying to naysay people who want to fantasize a subby dean, of course - fantasize away. 😁)

Anyway, you're right in that Dean Winchester (and Jensen for that matter!) has set my standards for what a man should be, WAY too high. Lol! But I just love him with my whole heart, and would happily use up a thousand wishes if he could be real. 😍🫠

Thanks for the Dean chat, my dear! ❤️❤️

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester: Dream

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pov: Reader

Warnings: Smut, sexy!Dreams, Dreams coming true, fingering, fluff, nicknames such as (good girl, baby girl, princess, and sweetheart).

Summary: Y/n has a great dream about her favorite fictional character. But when she wakes up the first thing she hears in a whisper is “I’m not fictional, sweetheart.”

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n- @firefly-graphics for dividers, also this idea totally came from TikTok, but I couldn't possibly tell you who came up with the idea. But credit to whoever came up with the idea.

Main Master List

Dean Winchester Master List

'He drags his large roughed hand down the soft skin of my inner thighs, I clamp in his hand between them. He tusks at me, waving his free-hand finger at me. Forcing my bare body to be consumed by him, by his scent, by his everything.'

'He keeps his pace slow, and deliberate. Dragging his teeth over my budding nipples. He's so slow with his thrust like he wants this to be agonizingly pleasurable. He tucks me again as I try to push up against him, trying my hardest to grasp more of the tappable pleasure.'

‘I can barely breathe as he thrusts deeper and deeper into me. Hitting that small sponge bud. My face controls as he hits it again. “Is that where you want me, princess?” He asks, his voice soaked in arousal. I moan out in agreement, shaking my head vigorously. He continues thrusting, the way he dominantly hovers me, grasping one of my breasts in his large hand, while the other taps on my clit. I feel like melting into the bed, but everything around me is so hot.’

‘As we come down from our combined high, he wraps his large arm around my sweaty shaking frame. “Well, how was that for missing you for two months?” He says kissing my forehead. I can barely talk the wind still being whipped from my burning lungs. I sincerely forgot just how much I miss him when he’s away on business.’

I set my book down, the way this author has me withering under her typed words has me in a frenzy. My eyes graze over the cover. a dark scene, with a man standing behind the woman. Her hair is tossed to one side, as the man's hand behind her wraps its way around her neck.

"Jesus, I know how to pick a book don't I," I said out loud. My eyes look over to the bedside clock. My eyes widen at the time, it's nearly eleven at night. I clamber out of the desk chair. Climbing into my cold and soft bed. As I lay in bed my phone buzzes on my nightstand.

Picking it up to see a message from my best friend.

‘Y/n have you seen the author of the supernatural books is coming out with a new book!” I shoot back a quick message.

My best friend and I long ago used to be infatuated with the Supernatural franchise. Any book, fanfic, or tiny clip we could find. We found, something about the shorter older brother always had my legs tangled tight together. The books heavily go over the fact that Dean the older, shorter brother is a playboy by nature.

A flirt if you will. His smooth-talking ways getting him whatever he wants, and it’s been like that since he was old enough to talk. Having the girls swoon over him was his thing, my best friend on the other hand had fallen for other fictional characters. The taller, younger brother Sam.

‘No, I didn’t. Do we have any clues to what it will be about?” I ask her, she’s still very much a part of that community, but unfortunately for me. I had to grow up, I had to become an adult. A person can’t think about fictional characters all day long and still run her small business.

Another ding, another message from her. ‘Yeah, Y/n it’s all about Dean!” There were a few emojis at the end of the text. I roll my eyes, another ding. A screenshot. Of the new cover for the new book. “Holy shit!” Another ding.

‘I know right!’ It says I chuckle at how my best friend knows just how much this unrealistic character has control over me. I can remember when the books first came out. How my best friend and I were in the book store. Looking around the shelves trying to find something. Well, anything to read for the summer break before our last year of high school.

There it was, a thirteen-book series sitting right there. “Y/n look!” My best friend says, pointing at the spine of the book. “Do we do it?” I ask her, She taps her chin with her forefinger. “Duh!” She says grabbing all thirteen books. I walk behind her with another thirteen. We walk out of the book store with two large bags in our hands.

That night we read the first book together. Making sure to take time to break, commenting on what we’re thinking already. The first book was where I fell head over heels for Dean Winchester, alongside my best friend fell for Sam Winchester.

Within a week’s time, we had read the entire series, and then we re-read them. Commenting, even more, picking up on things we missed on our first, and even our second read. Now I lay here in my bed wondering what the author could possibly be wanting to write about when it comes to Dean. The older Winchester story I had always thought was completed, finished.

The monster they hunted, felt so real to me. I don’t know why, but it had always felt since I had read that first book that everything was real. But I always had to remind myself that monster, they aren’t real. Not even my sweet Dean Winchester was real.

I send one last text to my best friend. ‘Good night babe, I’ve got an early morning. Kisses.’ And I set my phone down on my side table. Plugging in my phone before shutting the lamp off, and getting comfortable in my bed.

As I close my eyes I think about the new book and my addiction to the supernatural community mostly to Dean Winchester. I bet my best friend is sitting at her dinner table typing away on her computer trying to find everything that there is to be found out about the new book.

Her nose will be deep into the internet before she comes up for breath. I chuckle and take a few deep breaths before sleep overtakes me. The feeling of silk sheets against my legs wakes me up. A large room with dim lights turned on. But when I go to move I feel a solid body underneath me. I follow from the top of my finger tops all the way up the chest of the person under me, to his jawline, to his nose, and eventually, I see his whole face.

I scramble to stay as my brain finally catches up with my eyes. Eye widen by the massive person under me. Long eyelashes cover the green eyes I know and love so much. His arm is wrapped around my waist pulling me in close to his large frame. I guess my squirming and moving had woken him up because his eyes start to flutter.

A dark husky voice interrupts my thoughts. “Good morning sweetheart.” I stammer to get any words out. Still laying on his chest, I feel the sheets move as Dean lifts himself up and rests against the bed frame. “Go- good morning.” I finally get out. My eyes leaving his face just for a second to see a scatter of clothes on the floor, and how our legs are still tangled. I swallow looking back at Dean. “Everything alright sweetheart?” He asks concern floating through his voice. I look down at the sheet, my arm coming up to my breasts. ‘Shit’ I say under my breath. “Sweetheart you’re scaring me, tell me what’s going on?” More concern laces his words. I look back at him, green eyes precise my soul cutting me down to nothing.

“I-um, I just... How much did I drink last night?” I ask, I’ve got nothing to go off besides that I’m naked and he most definitely is naked under the sheets. I’ll just think that I’m one of his flings. “No sweetheart, you didn’t drink at all. You and I- well I should say more like me. I just wanted to see your sexy body.” He says his hand reaching to touch my hand covering my breasts with the sheet.

I freeze, barely seeing Dean out of the corner of my eye. He pauses brows furrowing, “Did I hurt you last night?” More worry and concern floats through his words. Gosh now I feel bad, it’s always been my dream to be in bed with Dean Winchester, but this is… this is just weird. Too much for me to handle. “ I don’t thi- No Dean you didn’t hurt me. I’m just still tired.” I say, that enough to let him go of it for now.

“Oh well, if that is it. Why don’t you stay right there, and I’ll do all the work.” He says with a wink, when I go to protest, it gets caught in my throat, his large hand sliding slowly down my thigh. Another wink, as he moves under the sheets. Eventually, he’s moved my hips and legs open, slotting himself between them.

“You just be a good girl, and don’t move.” Another wink as he lets his hand search the skin of my thighs, “Well look at these beautiful dark purple marks I’ve already left behind.” He says smirking his lips attach my thighs, sucking. And my brain short circuits. The amount of time I’ve dreamed about him between my thighs. The number of times I wished he was the one touching me not some high-school prom date.

“Pl-please Dean!” It’s a high whine that leaves my lips, even I’m surprised when it flows right out. I feel a smirk against my inner thigh. “Well, Aren’t you an impatient little girl this morning?”He taunts me. I sigh heavily, my hands falling to reach for his hair.

“I told you, baby girl, just be a good girl for me.” He says going back down to suckling on my inner thighs. I buck at the anticipation of his hot, wet mouth of my sensitive bud. He tusks me, his right hand reaching up the length of my body. Reaching for my breasts. I whine as his large hand grips it tight. Playing with my taut nipple.

“De- Dean.. Please.” It’s a sorry excuse for a sorry ass moan, but Dean has barely touched me, and I’m already withering under him. “Baby, you aren’t usually so prompt to beg, but I’ll take whatever you’ve got to give.” He says. The first feel of his finger passing over my bud sends a jolt through my body, like getting zapped. I buck my hips into his finger, his other hand coming down to brace my hips down.

“Like I said baby girl, stay. Still.” It’s a demand, but with a sassy tone put on the end. Another swipe of his finger, and I’m digging my nails into the silk sheets under my body. Wanton moans leave my lips, as he teases my entrance and sensitive bud.

“P-please, Dean. I pro-promise you I’ll be a good girl.” To hell with not being a beggar. I want more of his touch. Another smirk, “How about we try this.” He says as he licks a strip up, The coolness of his tongue was hard to not make my undoing. I buck my hips, but with Dean’s forearm sitting on my hips I can’t really make any movement.

“Stay still princess,” He says breathing closely to my entrance. One minute the fingers that having tapping on my bud, are gone. Moving down my slit, and playing at my entrance, “We’ll go slow I promise.” A sigh of frustration leaves me.

I try to close my legs, as he starts to get faster with fingers, the daunting feeling of my orgasm. My hands tangling with Dean’s short dirt blonde hair. Bucking my hips to meet Dean’s fast pace. “Come on baby, I know your close. I can feel just how tight you are.” Dean says. Wanton moans escape me, as arch my back trying so desperately to get more of the ecstatic feeling.

A long moan leaves me breathless and worn out. “There you go, let go,” Dean says still thrust his fingers as I ride out my orgasm is a pleasure. He kisses my bud and slides up my body. Kissing me, letting me taste myself on his wonderful lips. “How about we rest again.” Another wink and I snuggle up with Dean, my face falling nicely on his chest. I fall asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat against my ear.

I’m startled awake when I feel the soaking feeling between my thighs. I’m most definitely back in my old, cramped room. No beautiful bed frame, or silk sheets, just a fantasy is what I think. ‘Shit’ Is all I can think of before I noticed there’s another difference in my room. More especially on my bed, I’m careful to move the sheets in a way that gives me the most coverage.

At the end of my bed, I see a large shadow of someone. A male, but that... The smell is so familiar. A wood-like smell mixed with a whiskey. I reach out, my curiosity will either kill me, or it will send shivers down my spine.

My hands land on a strong leg, I run them up. The chest of whoever has decided to come into my house is strong, but not overly strong. A smooth, dark, and husky voice erupt into the room. “I’m not fictional, sweetheart.” I pause my hands freezing on his body. “Dean?” It’s the question I’ve ever asked someone.

“Sure is princess.” Within seconds, he’s got me on my back under his huge body. Bowed legs trapping my own. “Oh fuck.” I whimper out. A strong kiss and it’s like I’m back in the dream. “How about we try whatever had you squirming in your sleep like that?” It’s all cockiness, but damn even if he isn’t real another round with his delightful fingers would be enough.

Completed on: 08/15/2021

Posted on: 08/18/2021

Deanie Beanie Tag List: @akshi8278@deanswaywardgirl@hit-meup69@fofisstilinski@doctorlilo@wonderfulworldofwinchester@ijustlearnedtolove-beep-bop-boop@flamencodiva@stoneyggirl2

[impala-dreamer]

The Nightmare Curse - Chapter Seven

A Supernatural Novella

~ Hit by a devastating curse, Y/N is forced to live out her darkest nightmares on a loop. Can Dean and Sam wake her before there’s nothing left to wake? ~

All Warnings Listed on the Masterlist

The Nightmare Curse Series Masterlist ~ Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Become a Patreon ~ RebekahJordan.com ~ Published Works ~ Buy Me A Coffee

Dean took care of everything while Sam hit the books. 

Carefully, he removed her soiled clothing and dressed her in his favorite t-shirt and boxers. Not for his sake, but for hers- he knew how much she loved to steal them. Her skin looked wan and clammy against the heather gray of his Stones shirt, and he dabbed away the sweat from her forehead with a cool washcloth. 

He tucked her into his bed, made sure the blanket was just right, that the pillow was turned how she liked it. It really hadn’t occurred to him how much he noticed these tiny details about her until he was the one to make sure that they were right. 

He even tipped her head to the left, which was how he usually found her in the mornings. 

“How is she?” 

Sam toed the threshold, not sure if Dean wanted him close or not. Hands in his pockets, he rocked up on his toes, trying to see around Dean’s shoulder and catch a glimpse of her face. 

“Same.” Dean cleared his throat and wiped away a tear before turning. “I don’t think she’s gonna wake up, Sammy.” 

The grief and worry in his voice caught Sam somewhat off guard. He and Y/N had been screwing around, on and off, for years, but Sam hadn’t realized it was that serious. Not that Dean would ever admit to it. 

He sighed heavily and shifted in his boots, uneasy and just as worried. Y/N was like his little sister, his best friend besides Cas. But they’d gotten through worse, they’d find the light again. 

“She will,” he assured his brother softly. “There’s always a cure. Always something.” 

Dean licked his bottom lip slowly and drug the flesh in between his teeth, biting down to distract his racing brain for a moment. “You heard from Cas yet?” 

Sam shook his head. 

Dean turned away, closing his hands around Y/N’s. 

“You need anything?” 

Dean swallowed hard. “Just find something, OK?”

“I will.” 

Rain pelted the concrete like tiny bullets and exploded into deep, oil slicked puddles. 

Y/N kicked through the gasoline rainbows, her heels sliding dangerously as she ran. 

Something was after her, something big, something dark, something fast.

No weapons on her person, nothing around she could use in self defense, she had no choice but to run. She ran through the heavy rain, her path lit only by halos of yellow street lamps.

The air was cold on her face, the wind rough on her lips.  

Strong footsteps echoed behind her and her heart pounded against her ribs. Painfully, she drew in a deep breath and pushed herself onwards, desperate to find shelter or a soul to help save her. 

Her heel caught on a rock and she went down, hands and knees scraping against the gravely blacktop. She bit back a scream and looked quickly over her shoulder- she still had time. She had to run. 

Kicking off her shoes, she took off again; blood dripping from the cuts in her hands, slipped slick and warm down her shins. 

As the footsteps grew closer, she turned a corner. Shadows played against the brick walls surrounding her, taunting her, teasing her to move down deeper into the passage. When she hit the dead end, she pounded her fists against the impossibly high brick wall and screamed through tightly clenched teeth. 

The footsteps slowed behind her, the being so close that it blocked the wind like a shield around her. 

Eyes closed, she turned to face her doom. 

A soft voice hit her ears and she relaxed, shoulders going limp against the wall. 

“Why on Earth are you runnin’, Cher?”

Long, thick fingers brushed over her sweaty face and Y/N opened her eyes. She gasped at the sight of him: his face was cast in shadow but somehow, his eyes were bluer than ever, bright even in the darkness. 

Catching her breath, she reached out and slapped his shoulder, shoving him hard, but barely moving him. 

“What the hell! You’re chasing me?”

Benny laughed gently and tipped his head, looking down at her innocently. “You think I could let a beauty like you get away from me?” He grabbed at her, his big arm sliding perfectly into the small of her back while he dragged her close. “Never.” 

Y/N’s head felt light and she swooned in his arms, wrapping her fingers around the lapels of his woolen coat. “You scared me half to death,” she whispered, lips reaching for him.

His left hand curled around the nape of her neck, pulling her upwards, capturing her entirely. She was trapped, dangerously entranced, and her lust for him felt like fire beneath her skin. “Don’t you know I’d never hurt you?” His breath was hot on her cracked lips and she went limp against him. “Well, not unless you ask me to…”

His kiss was deep and it closed her eyes. She gave herself over to him, breathing in the heavy scent of him. The ocean was on his skin, salt and damp wood mixed with the fresh rain and made her dizzy. 

“Do it,” she begged in a faint whisper, her hands sliding up to lock around his neck. “Hurt me.” 

Benny ran his fingers down her cheek, a rough yet tender touch that made her body shiver. “Are you sure, Cher?” 

Her eyes were hazy, her body tingling. She stared into his eyes and made her final decision. “Yes.” 

Finding no lie in her soul, Benny turned her head with a soft push of his thumb against her chin. Y/N let herself go, giving up all control as the calloused pads of his fingers massaged her pulse. She felt her heart rate spike, felt the rush of adrenaline as fear and commitment mixed in her system. 

“Do it,” she said again, eyes fluttering closed as his lips moved close. “Please…”

His tongue flickered hot against her throat and he hummed with a desire that sizzled through her brain. His grip grew stronger as the monster inside took over and Y/N gasped as his teeth sank deep into her flesh. The pain was intense but soon pushed away as a wave of bliss overtook her. Her blood flowed freely past his lips and Benny drank her down slowly, pressing himself into her, crushing her into the bricks. 

Her heart seized, her lungs ached. He was taking everything from her. 

Time slowed to nothingness and the ground beneath her feet disappeared. 

They floated above the city, wrapped tightly together. She shivered in the cold but Benny kept her warm from the wind. She snuck her hands beneath his coat, hugging her body to his as he flew them into the clouds. 

“Will you take me with you forever?” she asked, looking up into his angelic yet dangerous face. 

He smiled and shook his head. “I couldn’t do that to you. I won’t.” 

She sighed and lay her head on his chest. It was always the same. She would ask and he would deny her. Again and again. 

When they reached New Orleans, he set her down easily. The French Quarter rose up around them, crowded and bright even in the dead of night. Drunken tourists rushed by them, knocking into Y/N, pushing her about. 

She stumbled forward to keep from falling and got swept up into a riotous group of men, all stinking of drink, their faces rosey and their hands wandering. They pushed her into an alley, loudly harassing her, their bodies pressing into her.  

She shouted for relief, pushed at their shoulders, swatted away unwanted touches, but no rescue came. She craned her neck to look over the crowd, searing desperately for Benny, but he was gone, the place he landed vacant. 

A light rain began to fall and the men closed in on her, tearing at her clothing, pawing at her body. She took a swing and knocked the closest man out, but another took his place, now angry and demanding. 

She screamed as he grabbed hold, slamming her head against the wall, cracking the skin. She lost her breath as his fist rammed into her gut, went limp when he crushed her cheekbone with his knuckles. She bled into his mouth as he jabbed his tongue between her lips, lost track of gravity when he hand tore into her jeans. 

She kicked and screamed, but he held her down, forcing her onto her back on the dirty pavement. She bit down hard on his hand but the other knocked her nearly unconscious. Her head slammed back onto the street and her mind detached from the world around her. 

She felt his blade pierce her chest but couldn’t move to save herself. 

She tasted the filth of his fingers as they curled into her mouth, pulling at her cheek from the inside, but she could not think to bite down. 

She endured the pain as he fucked into her, his drunken cock only half hard, her body dry. He ripped her skin and she cried, a tear snaking down her face in silent protest. 

Her lungs flooded with fluid and she choked, splattering his face with ruby with each painful cough. 

Prayers came and went through her mind but she knew no one was listening. 

As the neon lights dimmed in her vision, her attacker was pulled clean away. She tried to lift her head, but she was too weak to do more than listen. His bones cracked loudly against the bricks and his friends scattered, screaming for their lives, disappearing into the crowd. 

“Y/N…”

Benny lifted her gently into his arms as the rain picked up. It washed her face clean, dragging the blood down in soft waves to collect in puddles beneath her. 

She tried to focus on his face, to find comfort in his pale blue eyes, but the pain was too much. She was lost, dying, hopeless. 

“Not like this,” he whispered, pressing his hand to the gaping wound in her chest. 

She tried to speak but blood bubbled up from the back of her throat and spilled out onto his hand. 

He could feel her heart fading and gave in, refusing to let God take her away. 

He kissed her lips for a final time, gently pouring his soul into her before pulling back and slicing through his own wrist with his fangs. 

His blood tasted like lightning, sparking through her system as it hit her tongue. 

“I’m so sorry…”

When she woke, the world was on fire. Lights burned her eyes, the rain felt like hammers on her skin. Whispers drummed in her ears like canons; every inch of her was alive and pulsing, too alive, too sensitive. 

She broke away from Benny’s loving arms, a long, steady beat drawing her attention. He followed closely behind as she stalked her prey, watching in wonder at the monster he’d created. 

Long blonde hair was tied up in a perfect bun at the nape of her neck, and Y/N could not take her eyes off of her. 

Donna stood by her truck, shuffling through her pockets for the keys. She sighed heavily and turned, seeing Y/N not far behind. 

She smiled and the hunger in Y/N grew. She could smell her faint perfume on the wind, a sweet mix of flowers and sugary sweat. 

“Hey! Haven’t seen you in a dog’s age.” Donna took a fateful step towards Y/N, her senses dull to the danger. “How ya doin’?”

Y/N cocked her head to the side, intrigued by the way the moon shone down on Donna’s pretty face, the way her lips moved as she smiled, the pulse of blood through her plump features. She could see everything, every cell of her skin, every individual strand of hair. 

“Y/N?” 

Donna’s heart raced and Y/N heard every beat like a metronome in her head. She pushed off of her right foot and closed the space between them in half a breath. Donna went stiff in Y/N’s arms as she wrapped them tightly around her back. 

“What’re you doing!” 

Fear wafted off of her like a drug and Y/N breathed it in, savoring it like a fine wine. 

“Just relax…” 

Fangs fell from her mouth like daggers but the pain was only temporary. Everything faded away as they ripped into Donna’s supple throat. Her heart pumped hard, flooding Y/N’s mouth with hot liquid and she struggled to drink it all down. 

Donna fell to the ground like a doll, her spine snapped, her eyes wide and empty. She lay in a pool of her own blood and Y/N stood above, licking the last of her from her fingers. 

The blood rushed through her. She could feel it seeking out every atom of her body. It flooded her senses, filled every limb, every crinkle and fold in her brain. It was everywhere. It was everything inside of her. Donna was part of her now. 

Y/N swayed, lost in a haze of power, and startled as Benny stepped up behind her, his strong arms locking around her waist. She sank back against him, let him carry her for a moment. 

“That was amazing,” she sighed, still tingling with the blood. 

“And it only gets better…” His lips brushed her cheek and she spun around, kissing him properly; the lust and heat rushing between them like a torch. 

“Thought I told you to keep your nose clean.” 

The kiss was broken as Dean Winchester’s voice tore through the silent parking lot. He stood a few paces away, machete in hand, scowl upon his freckled face. 

Y/N gasped and hid behind Benny, who stepped forward, protecting his love. 

“Now, don’t go doing anything rash, Dean. You know this isn’t what it looks like.” 

Dean cocked his head to the side, eyes squinting at the scene. “You sure? Because it looks like you just murdered my friend.” 

Bowed legs brought him closer and he raised his blade. 

Benny lifted his hands in surrender, asking for patience, but Y/N couldn’t stand the thought of him taking the blame for her crime. 

She pushed him back and stepped between them. 

“It wasn’t Benny,” she said boldly, staring up at Dean with defiance in her eyes. 

Shocked, he lowered the machete and his mouth hung open in disbelief. “Y/N? What? What did you do?” 

Strange pride swelled inside of her and fear stayed away. “I died,” she said simply. “I was attacked and Benny- he saved me. He fixed me, made me better.” She trembled with the memory and her fangs appeared, dropping from her gums and shining in the night. “I can make you better too, Dean. We can all be happy together.”

“You’re insane,” he grit, holding back pained tears as he saw what she’d become. 

“No, Dean,” she said, slipping towards him slowly. “I can just see the truth now. I want to show you.” 

His knuckles blanched on the hilt and he took a deep breath. The blade rose and Benny defended, shoving Y/N out of the way as Dean swung true. The serrated blade cut through bone like butter and Benny’s head rolled across the pavement, coming to rest by Donna’s discarded body. 

Y/N’s scream filled the night and she raged, racing towards Dean with anger thick in her veins. She clawed at him, knocked him down, tore at his flannel. His punches felt like butterflies on her skin and she laughed as he tried to sit up, to throw her off. 

“You’re dead,” she told him, voice deep and sure. Her jaw opened wide and her eyes locked in on Dean’s throat, ready to strike. 

He looked up, green eyes clear yet terrified. “Y/N…” They jerked to the side, looking back over her shoulder just as Sam’s blade rushed through the air. 

Dean wiped her blood from his face and pushed her body aside, near to tears as he saw her beautiful eyes glaze over with death.   

TNC Tags: @440mxs-wife @smellingofpoetry @idblamekate

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[this-is-spn20]

FLUFF ALPHABET! Sam Winchester!

A/N: Here’s Sammy boy! My small adorable baby! Let me know what you guys think about this! 

-Marissa

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A ctivities- What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Sam is a pretty laid-back man. When he sees a chance at relaxing with you, he snatches as quickly as possible. Whether it’s just walking or driving around towns, going to the local library (cause God knows the only book they have at the bunker are the Wizard of Oz books, and the men of letters’ books.), to looking up fun recipes to try with you. The man will always keep you occupied!

B eauty- What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Sam likes that despite you being very soft-spoken, you’re nowhere near dumb. You’re also very confident. Of course, you’ll still ask Sam what he thinks if you piece together a somewhat bold outfit. But you might as well call him Bruno Mars cause- well you know.

 I feel like if you are an artist of some sort, he might decide to pick up your art of choice as a hobby for when he has no research or hunts. Maybe if you draw, he’ll buy both of you sketchbooks and pencils. Or if you use a tablet he might buy you a better one. He’ll try doing simple drawings to start off with a tree or two. An eye here and there. He struggling and he’s probably gonna get a bit upset with himself if his skills don’t pick up like yours. But he’s trying really hard! If you like making music, he might ask you to play guitar. He might even ask you to teach him how to sing! But be patient, he can barely carry a tune but he’s so happy to learn! Might take him almost a year to get the hang of it, but once he does, he is an absolute Beast with some strings!

C omfort- How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Sam has anxiety himself so he knows the signs when one is coming on. He’s been around stressful things/people/events all his life. His father was abusive throughout his and Dean’s childhood. When he ran away to go to college, he had to learn to interact with new environments and people. In conclusion, the man KNOWS what anxiety is. And how to handle it. He’ll have you sit down and close your eyes. He won’t touch you just in case it makes you more nervous. He’ll breathe slowly with you, serving as a guide to get your bearings. Once you’ve slowed your breathing he knows you can’t hold anything so he gets you a glass of water with a straw and holds the glass for you. He knows you probably won’t want to eat anything so he just picks you up when you say he can, and brings you to bed, and reads you to sleep while holding you close. 

D reams- How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Sam knows for sure he wants to marry you. He also wants kids with you but the risk of being raised in the life he kept him up at night. Now don’t get him wrong, he knows that whatever happens, family will take care of it. They always do. But he’s not sure if that’s a risk worth taking. He just wants to have the apple pie life. He’d kill every monster with his bare hands just to have that with you. 

E qual- Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Sam is quite dominant in the relationship. He always takes care of everything for you. He doesn't buy into the stereotype that women should be doing everything for their partners. He tries to help you out with everything and he doesn't take no for an answer. You've known for a while that Sam's love language is Acts of Service. All he's done all his life is help people, so it just seeps into the relationship. Sure he believes that a relationship should be a healthy balance of 50\50, but at the same time, he can't help take over and take care of you. This man is just precious. 

F ight- Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Depending on what the fight was about Sam would be pretty open to forgiving you pretty quickly. However sweet Sam can be, if he believes that he has even a pinky toe to stand on in the fight, he’ll stick to it. It’s only when the shouting has gotten too much for you that you walk away that he may see where you’re coming from. Give him a or two. That way you both had time to cool down. You’ll spend the rest of the day talking it through, seeing each other’s perspectives. Even if you guys can’t agree with each other, you’ll know how to better handle the situation next time. 

G ratitude- How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Even though he mostly does mundane things for you, you try to help out as much as he’ll let you. For example, if you noticed that he has a lot of research to do, while he’s sleeping or is on a supply run, you’ll continue his research so that he’ll have more time to relax and let loose a bit more. You think he doesn’t notice but he does, and he appreciates it. It makes him feel like he hasn’t been ‘slacking off’, or that he hasn’t wasted too much time doing other things. Sometimes you’ll even finish the research and he’ll have nothing much to do for a while. Except relaxing with you of course!

H onesty- Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Sam doesn’t have to hide much from you. You’re a damn good hunter. He would even go as far as to say you were better than him and Dean. He knows damn well you can take care of yourself and that you don’t like being babied often. He knows your secrets as well as you know his. It takes a big weight off his shoulders, knowing he doesn’t have to hide who he is with you. 

I nspiration- Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You were always an adventurous and carefree person. You always had a hard time balancing fun and work. Sometimes it got you into trouble. Sam noticed this when you two first met and as your relationship got more serious and tried to help you with the balence. By all means you aren’t magically better, but you’re learning. Sam on the other hand, had the same issue. The work and fun balance is a tricky one to master. You help Sam have more fun, like you he’s getting better at having more fun. But again it’s not going to happen overnight. Oh and you eat a salad of two once a month now!

J ealousy- Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

On the rare occasion the Sam gets extremely jealous, it's usually when someone tries to touch. Regardless of whether you let it happen (for fun) or not, he can’t help himself. He wants you all to himself. No Sharing!!

K iss- Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Sam is a very good kisser. He always kisses you like he hasn’t seen you in years. Most of the time his kisses are very rough but intimate. The first kiss was after four dates. Yes that’s a long time but you wanted to make sure you did this right with Sam. Plus he reassured you that he’d wait as long as you wanted to. You were sitting next to Sam in the Library doing some light research since most of it had gotten done earlier that week. The tension had been building up all week, you were finally ready to kiss Sam. Despite this not being your first kiss, you hadn’t kissed many people so understandably, you were nervous. You reached your arm over his and gently closed his laptop and angled your body toward his. You leaned over to him slowly, creeping your hand to his shoulder and finally your lips connected. Sam’s hand softly grabbed your hand on his shoulder and you both stayed like that until you both needed air. That was one of, if not, the most intimate moment you’ve had with Sam so far.

L ove Confession- How would they confess to their s/o?

Sam would be a bundle of nerves when he tries to confess. He’s tried to do it at least three times but each time he either got too nervous or something would interrupt him. Eventually settled for being simple, yet intimate. He had invited you to come to the library with him to sit and read for a while. It was about an hour and a half of you both being immersed in your own books that he told you he was going to the coffee shop in the bookstore to get a coffee. He got you your favorite drink. He had the barista give him a sharpie before they made your drink, then he wrote his message to you and bought you the drink when the order was done. You could see Sam was shaking and fidgeting but you couldn’t tell why.You figured you’d let him tell you when he’s ready. If only you know. You were only a few sips into your drink when you noticed some writing on the cup. Curious, you read the message which read; 

(Y/n), I have loved you from the best of times to the worst. Would you do the honor of going on a date with me?

-Sam

You sat up, a bit stunned. You looked at Sam to see him smiling shyly at you. You couldn’t do much but giggle and nod at the giant softie. 

M arriage- Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Marriage is something Sam and you have talked a lot about it. You two know you definitely want to get married but the question was when. You want to do it sooner rather than later. While Sam agrees, he also feels like that it should be a sign of both of you leaving life for good. Sam is a very nostalgic person, which means he’ll most likely recreate him asking you out and your first date. At the end of the night he’d get down on one knee and before he gets to say one word you burst into tears. When he finishes his speech, you of course say yes and the night continues...elsewhere. 

N icknames- What do they call their s/o?

Sugar is used more often than not. Baby and babygirl are pretty prevalent. Honey Bunch is used less but when he does call you that usually puppy dog eyes are shortly behind. 

O n Cloud Nine- What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

When Sam is in love it’s less obvious to everyone, but if they know Sam, they’ll notice the little things. Things like Sam now has permanent smile lines and his shoulders don’t hold so much tension anymore. If you didn’t come on a hunt with him and Dean he always has Dean stop off to get a bouquet of flowers. Of course he gets shit from Dean but he still does it everytime cause he is a good big brother.

P DA- Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

While Sam will let anyone know that you’re together (if need be), he’s pretty subtle about it. There is the subtle hand on your thigh or around your waist. Maybe a little quick forehead kiss but other than that unless they knew you, someone wouldn’t be able to guess you two are together. 

Q uirk- Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Sam has this really deep, rich, raspy type of voice. That makes him the BEST narrator ever! He often reads you to sleep when you two spend a lazy night in or if you have a nightmare. He’s there with a book you’ve been reading and he reads you a chapter or two before you’re out like a light. 

R omance- How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Sam is the KING of romance. When he plans something for you, he goes all out! When it comes to making you happy, he’ll do whatever it takes. There are almost no limits to his love. He lives by the term “Happy Wife, Happy Life.”. Sam is pretty nostalgic so he’ll be cliche, but he’ll be creative and add his own twist to it! So you could say he’s pretty creative. 

S upport- Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Sam loves learning about your goals and helping you achieve them. If you have 5 different goals, he's all there for you, helping you learn ways to achieve them quicker. If you want to. If you feel like those goals are impossible to reach, he’s there to help you see nothing’s impossible.

T hrill- Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

While Sam likes to have a solid routine, he tries to keep things *spicy* when it comes to your relationship. Whether it's something mundane or outrageous, you and Sam try your best to keep things fun for the both of you. 

U nderstanding- How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

You and Sam know each other so well it's gotten to the point where if you or him need something, you know what’s needed and how much before the other even opened their mouth. When this happens, Dean just kinda stares at the both of you with a “what the actual fuck?’ look. 

Sam: *sees you walking into the kitchen* Hey babe we-

Y/N: We need to get some milk today. You wanna leave at 11?

Sam: *goes back to drinking his coffee* Yep.

Dean: *freaking the fuck out*

V alue- How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Sam knew from the first date that his life would be in your hands. He trusts you with everything he has. What’s your relationship worth to him? More than any diamonds, jewels, or power. Nothing can ever be worth more than you. 

W ild Card-  A random Fluff Headcanon.

Sam took you to an event at a bar one night for a date. The theme that night was ‘50’s and 60’s dance night!’ He bought you a dress that would be worn in that era and he wore his brand new tux he bought, just for tonight. Just for you. Your feet were screaming in your heels but you and Sam were having too much fun to leave the dance floor. When you guys got home that night Sam gave you the BEST foot rub ever. 

X OXO- Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

In private, Sam will smother you with kisses and cuddles. The man can almost never let you go. The poor touch starved baby.

Y earning- How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Sam likes to log in to your Spotify, he knows most likely wherever you are, you’re listening to your music. He likes to listen to your playlists with you. It makes him feel closer to you. 

(He’ll never admit it but you have better taste in music than him.) 

Z eal- Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

It’ll be a close call but if he had to choose to save Dean or you, he’d choose you. It’d break him for a while, but he knows his brother wants him to have the apple pie life with you. And in the end, he’d always do it. No matter how hard it’d be for him and you every time, he wouldn’t change a thing. 

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A/N: Thank you guys for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Requests are always open!

Spread Love!

-Marissa

[wincestismyguiltypleasure]

Sam's knees are raw where they've been rubbing against the threadbare sheets tangled beneath him. Every muscle in his body screaming for mercy as he presses his forehead to the mattress, slowly drawing in a ragged breath.

"Dean, please."

"Behave," Dean chides, emphasizing his demand with sharp smack to Sam's right ass cheek. He sounds every bit as wrecked as Sam feels, but his voice still has that infuriating playfully tone. The one that makes Sam's blood boil and his insides twist.

"Please." Sam says again, and this time it's barely audible. A desperate plea that he knows isn't strong enough to break through Dean's unwavering concentration. But still, Sam can't help but try. "Dean, I need-"

Rough hands slide up the length of his back in response, the action making Sam shiver violently. His skin is slick with sweat, Dean's soft, warm touch tempting him to chase the sensation. And it takes everything Sam has in him not to move. His knuckles chalk white, gripping the sheets for dear life as he tries desperately to obey the one order Dean had given him

"Fuck, Sammy. You're gagging for it, ain't ya?"

A jolt of pleasure and pain shoots up Sam's spine as Dean rocks his hip forward agonizingly slow. He can feel every inch of Dean's cock slide into him, hard and wet, making Sam hurt in the best possible way. In the way that was so organically Dean. Like the sting of sharp teeth soothed by a sweet kiss.

A shot of whiskey and a crooked smile. The only truly good thing Sam had ever known. Despite the fact that Dean would disagree with his dying breath.

"Dean."

Sam isn't above begging. Not when his thighs are starting to tremble from holding himself still for so long. But he doesn't try to readjust his position though. God, he'd rather cut his own tongue off than move. Because if he moves Dean will stop, and that's the last thing Sam wants right now. Honestly, he doesn't think his dick could handle that kind of disappointment.

"Sorry little brother," Dean taunts as he starts to pull out, the slow, slick motion making Sam's blood turn to ice in his veins. The younger man unable to help the pained whimper that escapes his throat at the action because fuck, it hurts. He wants Dean so bad that it hurts, but he has to stay still or he won't get what he wants. Dean will make sure of that. "But you're gonna take what I give you and you're gonna thank me for it."

Sam nearly screams when Dean sinks into him with one brutal thrust of his hips. His vision blurred from the tears brimming in his eyes as Dean grips both of his ass cheeks tight enough to bruise. There's another hard slap against his already battered flesh before Dean growls, "Thank me, Samuel."

"Th-thank you, Dean."

Sam hears his brother hum softly in reply, skilled fingers dancing playfully across Sam's heated skin. It's comforting, what his brother's doing now. Almost hypnotic. And that's why Sam just about loses his mind when Dean all of sudden pulls out again lazily, leaving him feeling helpless and empty. His senses overwhelmed and his body aching.

"What would you do if I let you move, baby boy?"

Sam hears the question. Hell, he even comprehends it. But his mind is fuzzy and all screwed up with need and he just can't make himself form actual words. So instead he groans, low and deep in his throat, daring to wiggle his ass ever so slightly. A not so subtle, but very effective way of getting his point across.

"I know, Sammy."

Sam almost bites blood out of his bottom lip when Dean pushes back into him, stretching Sam so wide that it makes his eyes burn with tears. His neglected cock throbbing painfully between his legs, drooling precum all over the wrinkled sheets.

"I know what you'd do if I gave you permission to move," Dean chuckles, the dark, filthy sound sending a chill up Sam's spine. He can feel his brother's hands on his hips now. His unforgiving grip holding Sam in place. Keeping him at Dean's mercy. "You'd go crazy trying to fuck yourself on this cock," he taunts as he grinds his hips against Sam's ass teasingly.

"Dean."

Sam can barley think. His breath catching in his throat when Dean shift the angle of his hips, pushing in deeper than before; his cock hitting just the right spot inside Sam that has the younger man's eyes rolling back in his head.

"You'd be a mess, Sammy. Wouldn't be long before you were whining like a bitch in heat, begging me to fuck you right."

"Dean, I- I can't-"

Sam wants to say he can't take this, that it's too much, but the complaint dies on the tip of his tongue when he feels Dean's palm, warm and rough, wrap around the back of his neck. Applying just enough pressure to make Sam pay attention, a teasing threat. The kind that Dean was way too fucking good at.

"You can, baby brother." Dean says, and while his tone is gentle, his actions are not. The tight squeeze he gives Sam's neck making the younger man's stomach knot up.

Suddenly, Sam feels too hot and too cold all at once. He's sore in places he didn't even know he could be sore, his body screaming for release. Or more specifically, screaming for Dean. "And how do I know that, sweetheart?"

It takes Sam entirely way too much time to make his mouth cooperate but somehow he manages. His tongue feeling like it's made of lead when he says, "Because you know what I need and you always give it to me."

"Good boy. But I think you're missing one little thing," Dean teases breathlessly, fucking into his little brother so deep that Sam swears he can see stars.

"Th-thank you for giving me wh-at I need, Dean."

"You're welcome, Sammy. Now shut up and take it."

[winchestershiresauce]

Be a Good Girl

Summary: After Dean finds out that you drank the last of his good whiskey, your boyfriend Sam decides he knows just how you can make it up to his brother.

Dean x Reader, slight/implied Sam x Reader (no wincest)

2215 words

Tags: NSFW, smut, kinda looks like dub-con, oral sex (male receiving), bondage, language, mild degradation, mild praise kink

A/N: I have so many more ideas for this, so please let me know if you’d like more/a sequel. <3

My Masterlist

--

You knew you shouldn't drink Dean's nice whiskey, even after the way it called to you. However, with the brutally long day you'd had and the boys asleep, it just looked so inviting. Admittedly, it probably had something to do with the way Dean had warned that anyone other than him who'd touched it would "seriously friggin' regret it." You knew being his brother's girlfriend allowed you some freedom from consequence but certainly not all, and part of you wondered if you could get away with it. Maybe you'd even wondered what would happen if you did get caught.

As Sam crawled under the table in the library to check the knots holding you in place, you thought to yourself that while you’d expected some sort of punishment or having to make it up to Dean, you were a bit surprised at the situation you’d found yourself in. This wasn’t the first time Sam had tied you up (and it definitely wouldn’t be the last), but the way his rope work had you spread eagle on the library table was very new. Sam emerged from under the table, satisfied that his knots would hold you in place, and stood to admire his work. Despite the chilly air, heat blossomed within you with the way he raked his eyes over your wholly exposed body. 

“You’ll be a good girl, won’t you?” Sam asked as he lightly ran his finger down the center of your chest and to your navel, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Yes, sir,” you answered. Before stripping you bare and positioning you as a work of art in the library, Sam had hinted at what would be happening. He’d mentioned that Dean was upset about the whiskey and that you’d be making it up to him somehow. You’d thought maybe you’d buy him a new bottle, or wash Baby, or something like that, but Sam had something much more exciting in mind. You felt yourself getting aroused at the thought, just anticipating what would happen when Dean got back.

To put the final touches on his masterpiece, Sam stuck a bow and a gift tag to your lower belly, just above your ever-so-inviting pussy. ‘Dean, take what you want. - Sam’ the tag read. Sam nudged your thighs further apart and placed the brand new bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label on the table between them. He smirked and pressed it firmly against you, rubbing it slowly between your lips and over your clit before he pulled it away and positioned it for display. You lifted your hips, seeking more pressure against your now-aching clit, and let out a small whine.

Sam tsked disapprovingly, reminding you that you were to be seen and not heard. “Be a good girl, Y/N,” Sam warned. “Remember that Dean’s in charge. He knows your safe words and that you’re just desperate to make it up to him for finishing his whiskey. Be good.” He placed a chaste kiss on your lips before slipping the black satin blindfold over your eyes. You groaned internally -- you wouldn’t dare do it out loud -- knowing that not being able to see would only increase your anticipation and drive you crazy.

--

You heard the large metal door of the bunker slam closed and your body tensed. While the likelihood that it was Dean was incredibly high, you hated not being able to see what was around you. Footsteps echoed through the library as they approached.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” Dean’s voice asked directly behind you. Some of the nervous tension in your body relaxed, leaving only the tension of excitement and anticipation. You felt a tiny gust of air on your face and you guessed that Dean was waving his hand over you to test if you could see through the blindfold. When you didn’t react at all, there was a quiet chuckle just inches away from your right ear.

“Looks like Sammy left me quite the gift, didn’t he?” Dean continued. You knew you weren’t supposed to talk -- you were just a fuck toy today -- so you didn’t answer. You heard him approach the opposite end of the table, feeling his eyes on you as he moved. When he picked up the gift tag, you felt his warm and calloused, but somehow soft, fingertip ghost across the exposed flesh below your belly button.

“‘Take what you want’? Oh, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have.” His laugh was a bit dark and, though you couldn’t see him, you could sense his arousal. Your own excitement began to really bloom and you felt yourself getting wetter by the moment. When he picked up the bottle of whiskey between your thighs, you wondered if he could see how soaked you were, just imagining what he might do to you. You heard him open the bottle and take a couple swigs. “That’s the good stuff,” he sighed. “I wonder how well it pairs with this sweet pussy of yours, princess.” He ran his finger along the inside of your thigh before gliding it through your slick folds. You writhed in your bonds, wishing desperately that you could get more, or even just touch him, but you knew it was no use. Sam knew how to tie a knot and you weren’t going anywhere until he or Dean decided to free you.

You heard the wet ‘pop’ as he pulled his finger out of his mouth and groaned. “Shit, Y/N, that’s divine. You’re sweeter than a 15-year single malt.” You could hear the smile in his voice and fuck, you wanted him. Talent for the art of teasing must run in the family. He moved to the head of the table and you couldn’t help the pleading look you gave him when he removed the blindfold. He slid his hand gently down the side of your face and pushed your hair away so he could get a better look at you. Though you bit your lip to keep yourself from making a sound, a small devious smile made its way across your face. Dean mirrored the expression before pressing his lips against yours. It started gentle, maybe a little tentative, but didn’t take even a moment for the kiss to escalate to rough and full of want. You kissed him back hard, lifting your head off the table as much as your position would allow, and Dean slid his hand under the back of your head. Using his grip, he pressed his mouth against yours like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted. He licked into your mouth and sucked and bit your lips with such fervor that you were sure you were dripping on the table.

He pulled away with that devilish grin back on his lips. For just a moment, he paused to drag his eyes over the sight before him. Your pleading eyes staring up at him, your ruddy kiss-swollen lips, your gorgeous hard nipples… He groaned, knowing that everything before him was his for the taking. You let your eyes wander from his face down his body where you could see his erection absolutely straining against the denim containing it. You thought it looked so desperate to be freed, to be touched, that maybe it was almost as desperate as you were. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to try to calm the lustful need bubbling up through every fiber of your being, but it didn’t do much good. 

Dean dropped his red plaid flannel to the floor and tore his t-shirt over his head. When he pulled his belt through the belt loops of his jeans, you couldn’t stop the low, desperate groan from escaping your throat. 

“What? You want this cock, sweetheart?” Dean chuckled. He dropped the belt and undid the button on his jeans, and every move he made to lower the zipper and push his pants and boxer briefs over his hips was so slow and deliberate that you tried with everything in you to press your thighs together. 

“Yes, sir. Please,” you whined, knowing any punishment for talking would be worth it at this point. You needed him and you needed him to know that. Luckily, Dean seemed to enjoy when his fuck toy replied, because he bit his lip and smirked. He dropped his jeans and underwear to the floor and stepped out of them. He wrapped one large, perfect hand over the hard, thick object of your desire and took deliberate, purposeful steps to approach you again.

“Open up, princess.” You obeyed immediately, opening your mouth and letting your jaw muscles slacken. He grinned and teased the tip of his cock around your lips, and your tongue reached out to taste him. Your tongue caressed the needy red head of his cock and lapped up the bead of precum leaking from his slit. Dean let out a low groan that came more from his chest than his throat and reached up to stroke your cheek. “Be a good girl for me,” he whispered before he thrust his hips forward to shove all of himself between your lips. Once the briefest moment of surprise passed, you greedily took him in, engulfing his throbbing cock with your wet, hot mouth. 

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him down and running your tongue along the underside of him as he found a rhythm. It didn’t take long for him to begin truly fucking your face and you wished so much that your hands were free so you could touch yourself while he did so. With every thrust, you felt him hit the back of your throat and you couldn’t help but think how good it’d feel to have him pounding your pussy like that. Your clit throbbed and your pussy clenched around nothing, both so eager and needing to be touched. 

His grunts were sinful and you swore you could feel them in your core. He held the side of your face in place as he used you, used your mouth like he deserved to. Your mouth had been what disobeyed him, giving in to the temptation of taking something that didn’t belong to you. In return, he got to take something that didn’t belong to him. You were the prize that Sam Winchester had to offer, and you loved it. Tears escaped your eyes as Dean slammed into your throat, sliding hard and fast between your soft lips. You gagged a bit when he went deeper and you felt his rhythm falter. You hummed around him, and only you knew that it was a sound of disappointment, as you’d been wishing, despite how well he was fucking your face, that he’d slide his beautiful, throbbing, delicious cock into your pussy and thrust into you with every bit of force he could muster. 

“Just like that, baby,” Dean grunted when you hummed, “Such a good girl.” You hummed again, only this time the praise swept over you and you wanted to make him cum by any means necessary. You could be a good girl and you’d show him. You let your jaw hang slack as he slammed into your mouth, as the subtle vibrations of your humming threw him over the ledge into his climax. With one hard thrust sending him impossibly deeper into your throat, he came. His gentle hold on your face was no longer gentle as he pushed you toward him, keeping your head in place as thick ropes of his sweet release spurted down your eager throat. When he finished, he loosened his grip on you and pulled his softening cock out of your mouth slowly, like despite the post-orgasm sensitivity, he never wanted to leave the perfect warm cavern beyond your lips.

He sighed, taking a deep breath to bring himself back to Earth, and you licked your lips to get the stray cum that had smeared there when he pulled out of your mouth. He grinned and you grinned back at him. 

“Sam was right,” he started, “You really are an even better fuck toy than you are a hunter. I didn’t know that was possible.” You blushed, but couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He may have gotten his release but you were still aching and needy for yours. However, you knew that this was about making your transgressions up to Dean, so you wouldn’t say anything. This would make incredible fodder for the next time you played with yourself, or you’d think back to it when Sam took you to bed and reclaimed you later like he did after every time he’d shared you.

“Mmm,” you hummed, “Glad I could be of service. Did it make up for stealing and finishing your good whiskey?” 

“Oh we’re nowhere near finished, princess. I haven’t even gotten to feel that tight, pretty pussy squeezing around me.” He smirked and your cunt clenched, pulsing with arousal, excitement, and anticipation. 

“Are you gonna fuck me good and hard, Dean?” you asked, your expression a combination of puppy dog eyes and a sly grin. Dean ran his fingers through his hair and groaned.

“You have no idea, sweetheart. I’m gonna fuck you til you’re not sure you can cum anymore and you can’t remember your name. We’re just getting started.”

--

tags: @hobby27 @akshi8278 (Wanna be tagged?)

[pinknatural]

Dean tries, really tries, to think of it as a present. Finally, his dad is letting loose on the ropes a bit, finally letting him hunt on his own. But it’s kinda hard to convince himself when his dad sent him in with the case already figured out, with everything but the manual labor already done. 

It’s more like an errand he wants me to complete, Dean thinks resentfully, digging his shovel into the soft dirt. Happy birthday, go dig up two graves. Have fun! 

Dean huffs and pivots to the grave beside the other one. According to Dean’s research, the nuns had wanted to be buried together, but when the convent found their bodies they hadn’t really gone for that option. They had been buried next to each other, though, which makes Dean’s job just a little bit easier. 

He starts digging, even though he hasn’t finished digging out the first grave. You gotta dig ‘em up at the same time, ‘cause if you gank one then her lover gets angry, and the last thing Dean needs is an angry ghost harassing him while he digs up a grave. He can’t help but think that those other nuns should’ve buried them together. Not just because it would make Dean’s life easier, but because they wanted it. Because they were in love, and they killed themselves, and the convent owed them that much. 

Dean inhales, then exhales, his breath escaping in a little white cloud. It’s chilly, ‘cause it’s January, but it’s not too cold. He’s not wearing gloves or anything but he can still feel his hands. He shifts to the other grave and starts digging. 

He remembers what Charlie at the last school said about what his dad got him for his seventeenth birthday--a new car. Lindsey got a fancy necklace. Jake’s birthday hadn’t come up yet, but he’d been hoping for a dog. All Dean has is blisters on his fingers and a sore back from when the ghost of Sister Felicity threw him into a bookcase while he was retrieving the prayer book the nuns’d passed notes to each other in. That book, which had notes in the margins of their love, is gone now. Dean burned it.

Tears sting at Dean’s eyes. He must’ve been too soft, about Jake. He must’ve--something must’ve given him away. Why else would he be punished like this?

He knows, Dean thinks. He knows, he knows, he knows. It becomes a mantra, moving in time with his shovel. He switches graves. 

It’s just that it’s his birthday. The message--the warning--would’ve gotten across regardless, Dean thinks. But why, of all days, why his birthday? Why can’t Dean have a fucking break for once? 

Seventeen sucks, Dean thinks, hitting the first coffin. He climbs out of the hole and switches to the other one. It supremely sucks. Sixteen you get a drivers’ license, eighteen you can, like, vote or whatever, but seventeen is nothing. Just a bunch of shit. 

He knows, he knows, he knows. 

Dean hits the second coffin and breaks it open. The bones are like the ones in Sister Perpetua’s grave--pale and gross, just like most bones are. Dean doesn’t know why he kind of expected different. He climbs out and throws his shovel aside, picks up the thing of salt. He dumps it on one grave, then the other. Lighter fluid, next. Dean’s done this before. Even if Dad and Sammy are usually here, Dean knows how this goes. 

He takes the matchbook from his pocket, strikes one and drops it, then the other. The graves light up, the flame flickering bright and warm, and Dean thinks he hears screaming. He drops to his knees and whispers, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He realizes that he’s still crying, that tears have run down his face, and for the first time on this supremely shitty birthday, he’s glad to be alone, kneeling between the graves of two women who were in love, twin fires burning bright on either side of him. 

-

Dean wakes up slowly, as he often does these days. There’s a warm blanket around his shoulders, and under that a heavy arm slung over his waist. Sometimes Dean remembers the days he was too antsy to even get under the covers, ready to jump into action at any minute, and it all seems so absurd. 

Light trickles in softly from the window across the room, and the arm around Dean’s waist tightens. Dean turns, slow, smiling already at the sight he knows will greet him. 

Cas is kind of awake, squinting at him but smiling, his hair ruffled and sticking out everywhere, and Dean feels sort of like he might burst. 

“Mmm,” he says. “Good morning.” He stretches his own arm around Cas’s shoulders and draws the man closer to him, Cas’s arm shifting from it’s loose hold to pull their chests together. 

“Happy birthday, Dean,” Cas says, his voice even lower, rough from sleep. Dean grins, tucks his face under Cas’s chin to hide it. 

“Every day’s my birthday when I get to wake up to the best present ever laying in my bed,” Dean says, even though that’s ridiculously sappy and also doesn’t make sense. 

“I am not a present, Dean,” Cas says, and Dean makes a ‘hmm’ noise. 

“I was talking about Miracle, dumbass,” he says, nudging the sleeping dog in question with his toes.

“Of course you were,” Cas says indulgently, like he’s just humoring him. Which is fair, possibly. Dean thinks that Cas spends a lot of time just humoring him. 

“Do you know what time it is?” Dean asks, shifting his arm to touch the back of Cas’s neck, right at the spot where his t-shirt meets his skin.

“It doesn’t matter,” Cas says, holding him tighter like he thinks Dean will get out of bed, which is quite frankly an absurd idea. It’s a Sunday, and it’s his birthday. Dean has nowhere else to be.

“It might, since Sammy’s coming over today,” Dean says, even though Sam and Eileen are coming over in the late afternoon and it’s definitely still morning.

“Well, it’s not time for them to come yet,” Cas says. “We can get up later.”

Dean definitely agrees, and he snuggles back down into Cas, getting even more comfortable. He’s just thinking about falling back asleep, maybe, deciding that this is his best birthday ever, even though it’s only been like ten minutes, when he remembers his worst birthday and has to pause. 

“Dean?” Cas asks. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m…” Dean noses against him, taking a deep breath. “You read my...my dad’s journal?”

“Yes,” Cas says warily. The journal is usually safe, but Cas can get pissy when John Winchester is mentioned. 

“You remember my seventeenth birthday?” Dean asks, and then all of a sudden his angel is trying to squeeze the life out of him. Dean appreciates it, even though he can’t really breathe. 

“I remember,” Cas growls, and Dean pats his shoulder. 

“I was just thinking about how that was the worst, and this is the best,” Dean says, and Cas relaxes his hold a little. “I, uh...that day felt like a huge warning. And now I’m here, with you, and, uh, it’s pretty awesome, not gonna lie.”

“John Winchester deserves to rot in hell for eternity for what he did to you and Sam,” Cas says. “But I am glad to be here with you, and I agree that it’s pretty awesome.”

“I love you,” Dean says, helpess as he always is in the face of Cas’s protectiveness. 

“I love you too,” Cas says, moving a hand to tenderly cradle Dean’s jaw. He begins to guide Dean’s head towards his, and Dean is so sorry to interrupt, but--

“Do you smell pancakes?” he asks, and Cas pauses, considering. 

“Yes,” he says finally. 

“Well, if I’m here in bed, and you’re here in bed, and Miracle, I’m pretty sure, can’t make pancakes, and is also in bed, then who…”

“Jack,” they say together, and Dean laughs. 

“Do we trust Jack with the stove?”

“He is God,” Cas says, but that doesn’t sound like a ‘yes’. They look at each other and then sigh, rolling apart so they can get out of bed. 

“We’ll continue this later,” Dean says, pointing at Cas, who nods. 

“Of course,” he says, and he reaches out and grabs Dean’s shirt, pulling him in for a sadly-brief kiss. “Happy birthday.”

Dean beams at him, and then they go downstairs to help their son make pancakes without burning the house down, Miracle bounding down the stairs beside them, and Dean can’t help but agree with his earlier assessment--that this is his best birthday ever. 

(ao3)

[atc74]

Wrecked

Warnings: Implied smut, d/s themes

Summary: It has been a while since they’ve been together, and it is going to be so, so good. 

Pairing: A Winchester x Reader (or even a J if you so desire, literally any man)

Word Count: 514

Written for: All you lovelies that need just a little...uhhhmmmph!

A/N: A Choose Your Winchester (or any man) adventure! This came from a deep place where I am incredibly horny...and unable to do anything about it. I cannot scratch this itch...as much as I try. This is unbeta’d, but much thanks to my wifey @iwantthedean and @waywardbeanie for the boost and validation that this is indeed...HOT.

Like Dean or Sam’s scent? Maybe the Winchesters together? Or perhaps one of your favorites from the MCU? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

As soon as they occupy the same space, he pushes her up against the wall, a muscled thigh between her legs. He grabs her wrists and holds them above her head with one hand, the other brushes the hair from her face and he lifts her chin until their eyes meet. His stare is intense and purposeful like he desired to devour her. He leans in close until they are breathing the same air and she closes her eyes. It is at that moment that he brushes his lips against hers, his tongue snaking out, finding hers. He waits for her to break the kiss, breathless and gazing up at him, a drunken and dizzy smile tugging at her mouth. Damn, the man can kiss.  

Goosebumps erupt on her skin as his hands and mouth expertly roam her body. The roughness of his fingertips a delicious contrast to her softness. She tilts her head, allowing him full access, his tongue laving at her pulse point, sucking on her delicate flesh, not enough to leave his mark on her, but enough to let her know he is there, and could, should he chose. 

The feel of his touch on her heated skin only serves to increase her heightened state of arousal; she has been craving his touch since their last encounter and every caress, every flick of his tongue drives her wild, like a fire in her veins. 

He plays her like a finely tuned instrument, discovering each pleasure point that drives her higher and higher, pulling beautiful sounds of soft whimpers, low moans, and senseless pleas from her perfect lips; it is music to his ears.

“Please don’t tease me. I want to feel you inside me. I am so tight and warm and wet for you.” 

“I told you you’d never get enough of it. You’re so hungry for my cock, aren’t you Beautiful? Now be a good girl and beg for it.” He demands, his breath hot in her ear.

She does not hesitate, knowing no man can give her what she needs like he can.“I need it. I need you to fill me up until I can’t think straight. I’ll be a good girl, I promise.” 

“I know you will. You’ll be good if you want it. And if you’re good I might let you come,” he growled. “But before I even think about letting you come, I’m going to work my way down your body, tasting and teasing every single part of you. I want you a quivering mess when I slide inside you.”

He smiles and her only thought is oh fuck. She knows he can touch her without having to fuck her and she knows he can fuck her without having to touch her. She loves how his words disturb the rhythm of her pulse.

“Then I’m going to fuck you, agonizingly slow, make you feel every push and pull of my cock as I wreck your body and soul, tearing you apart, just so I can put you back together and do it all over again.”

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean​ @dolphincliffs​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @flamencodiva​ @blacktithe7​  @amanda-teaches​ @hannahindie​  @kickingitwithkirk​  @wi-deangirl77​ @hobby27​​ @gh0stgurl​ @alleiradayne​ @idreamofplaid​ @manawhaat​ @crashdevlin​  @fangirlxwritesx67​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @waywardbeanie​ @jensengirl83​ @anathewierdo​  @winchest09​​ @michellethetvaddict @magssteenkamp​ @waywardbaby​  thewinchesterandreidwhore @thinkinghardhardlythinking​

The Dean/Sam List: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @supernatural-jackles​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @akshi8278​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @deanwanddamons​ @rockhoochie​

Divider by @talesmaniac89​, cover art edit by me, google photo search

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

I Put A Spell On You

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Words: 2000+

Summary: It’s Halloween and the Reader decides to tease Sam.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, oral sex (f! receiving), vaginal fingering, light roleplaying, a smidge of teasing), established relationship, fluff all throughout the fic

a/n: 18+!!! SMUT!!! NO MINORS!!!! One of my favorite movies is Who Framed Roger Rabbit. And Jessica Rabbit is one of my favorite characters, and I liked the idea of the reader dressing in a skimpy Jessica Rabbit costume and sings for her lover and they take her home and fucks her till she can’t walk. I hope you enjoy this fic!!!

Sam walked into the party that Dean dragged him to. It was a Halloween Party, Sam hated Halloween. He had to go to this party for a hunt. Him, Dean, and you were hunting a vampire at a Halloween party. Seemed easy enough. Boy was Sam wrong. 

Sam and Dean walked in and it was filled with people in different costumes. About a hundred different ones. Dean had forced Sam to wear a Roger Rabbit costume, while Dean was a cowboy. Sam was against this whole thing but you had somehow got him to wear it. They looked around the speakeasy-looking bar, trying to find you but they couldn’t.

So they split off and Sam went to the bar while Dean went to find a table. Sam ordered them two drinks and walked over to the table. He sat down with Dean and they drank their drinks waiting for you. Sam felt ridiculous sitting in this stupid costume, well until you came in.

The music turned to a seductive tone. The song was “I Put A Spell On You’ but slower, sexier. The long red curtain parted and you waltz out. You were wearing a very revealing Jessica Rabbit costume. Who Framed Roger Rabbit was the first movie you and Sam watched as a couple. It was your first date. You really hoped he got the reference. A lot of boob tape was involved with this costume. You swayed your hips and started singing.

‘I put a spell on you,

Because you're mine,

You better stop the things you do,

I tell you, I ain't lying,

I ain't lying,

You sang into the mic and made eye contact with Sam. His jaw dropped when you walked out. When you looked at him, he quickly tried to calm himself but then you started singing. 

‘You know I can't stand it,

You're running around,

You know better daddy,

I can't stand it 'cause you put me down,

Oh, no,

I put a spell on you,

Because you're mine,’

You walked downstage, and one of the men helped you off the stage. Your eyes stayed glued to Sam’s hazel eyes. You smirked when you saw him subtly adjust his pants.

‘You know I love you,

I love you,

I love you,

I love you anyhow,

And I don't care,

If you don't want me,

I'm yours right now,

I put a spell on you,

Because you're mine,’ 

You walked towards Sam’s table, swaying your hips to the beat. You felt all eyes on you as you sang. You sat on Sam’s lap as you finished your song.

‘You know I can't stand it,

You're running around,

You know better daddy,

I can't stand it 'cause you put me down,

Ooh-hoo-ooh,

I put a spell on you,

Because you're mine,’

You whispered the last line. Your lips inches away from Sam’s, you pulled away before you two could kiss. You smirked at the disappointed look on his face.

“Hello, Roger.” You purred and caressed his jaw before standing up. You walk back up to the stage as the speakeasy explodes with catcalls and cheers. You set the mic back on the stand and then walked to Sam and Dean’s table. You sat next to Sam and grabbed his drink. 

“Damn, Y/n. I did not know you could sing.” Dean said, and you shrugged and took a sip of the whiskey. 

“I like to keep it under wraps for surprises like this.” You said, and Sam chuckled and took his drink back. “Hey!” You snipped and made grabby hands at his whiskey.

“I’ll get you one,” Sam said, finishing his drink and standing up. He turned to walk to the bar and you pinched his ass. He jumped and slightly turned to you. “Would you stop that?” He huffed and ran a hand through his hair then left to the bar, as you and Dean started laughing. He came back with two glasses of whiskey, he handed you one and sat back down. 

“Thank you, handsome.” You smiled and took a sip. He wrapped his arm around your waist and looked to where Dean was sitting.

“Where did he go?” He asked, and you scanned the room looking for Dean. 

“To talk to the Daphne your 10 o’clock.” You said, gesturing to Dean flirting with the woman dressed in a Daphne costume. 

“He always had a crush on her,” Sam stated, and you chuckled and looked at him. 

“Thank you for wearing the costume I bought.” You smirked, knowing he probably hated the costume. He scoffed and tapped the rabbit ears on his head. 

“Yeah, well it’s kinda growing on me. Especially now that I get to see you in this.” He smirked and pointed to the sparkly red dress you were wearing. 

“I wanted to do a couples’ costume this year.” You said, and pulled him down by his suspenders and kissed him. You two pulled back and Sam looked at all the guys staring at you. He growled low in his throat and glared at them. You chuckled at his jealousy and grabbed his hand. You pulled him to his feet and you two ran out of the speakeasy. “C’mon, Honey Bunny. Let’s go back to our room and play pattycake.” You purred in a seductive voice, and you watched his eyes darkened with lust.

“Let’s go, Love Cup.” He growled, and the two of you ran through the streets towards your motel. 

You stumbled into your room and he spun you two around and pinned you to the door. He kissed you passionately and full of lust. It made your head spin. You pushed him away and smirked at his confused look. You pulled him to the bed and shoved him down, so he was sitting on the edge. 

“I’ll be right back, Honey Bunny. I think you’ll like what I have in store.” You smirked and slipped into the bathroom. You stripped out of your costume and pulled on the new blood-red lingerie you bought for this holiday. It was a lace bodysuit, a pair of stockings, matching red heels, and a large fluffy sheer robe. You took off the wig and fluffed out your natural hair. “I hope you are ready, Honey Bunny.” You smirked and walked to the door. 

“Oh, I am, Love Cup.” He said, and you could hear the lust in his voice. You stepped out of the bathroom, and there he was laying on the bed naked except for the rabbit ears on his head. His jaw clenched when he saw you in that lingerie. “C’mon here.” He growled, and you pulled off your robe and straddled his lap. He pulled you into a rough and needy kiss. He kissed down your jaw and onto your neck. 

“Is someone needy, Bunny?” You asked as he sucked hickeys into her collarbone. 

“Did you see yourself in that costume? I wanted to rip it off and fuck you right there on that table, so everyone knows who you belong to.” Sam growled, nipping and kissing down your chest. 

“Well, how about you fuck me till I scream so everyone in this motel knows who I belong to.” You purred, and he groaned and picked you up. You squealed at the sudden movement and he laid you down on the bed. He kissed you and gripped the straps of your bodysuit. 

“Was this expensive?” He mumbled, against your lips. 

“It’s fine, just fuck me!” You groaned, and he kissed your lips and ripped the straps down. He pulled the shreds of fabric off your body until you were completely naked beside the stockings. He rubbed his hands up and down your nylon-clad thighs and practically drooled at the sight. 

“You’re keeping these.” He said, and you smirked and reached down and stroked him up and down. He moaned and buried his face in your shoulder, as you swiped the pre-cum off the tip of his cock and stroked it up and down his cock. 

“I’ll keep them if you keep the bunny ears.” You countered, and you felt him chuckle into your shoulder. He pulled back and smiled. 

“Deal.” He said, and then kissed down your body towards your soaking core. He nipped and kissed the insides of your thighs, purposely missing where you wanted him. You whined and tried to grind down on his face. He chuckled and finally started licking and sucking on your wet folds. You keened and moved your hips against his face, he used one of his arms to pin your hips down. He started eating you out like it was his last meal. He thrusted two fingers into your quivering hole and curled them up to brush against her g-spot. 

“Sam!” You cried out, as you came on his face and fingers, but he didn’t stop until you squirted on his face. He pulled back his beard soaked with your juices. You watched as he licked and sucked your juices from his fingers. You smiled as he climbed on top of you, he captured your lips in a heated passionate kiss. He threw your legs over his shoulders and lined his cock up with your entrance, and thrusted into you. You moaned and your eyes rolled into the back of your head, as he thrusted slow and hard into you. You moved your legs around his waist and he pinned your wrists to the mattress, as he fucked into you passionately.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart.” He growled and picked up the speed of his thrusts. You keened when his cock brushed over your g-spot. He buried his face in your neck and bit and sucked on your neck, leaving hickeys in his wake. 

“Oh, Honey Bunny! I’m gonna cum!” You moaned, and he piston his hips and thrusted harder into you. That threw you over the edge and you screamed his name, as you came. He helped you through your orgasm, as your walls fluttered around his cock. You clamped down on him as you started to get oversensitive, and it triggered his own high. 

“Oh, god, Y/n!” He yelled and painted your walls with his hot cum. He panted into your neck as he let go of your hands. You ran your fingers through his soft hair as you both came down from your highs. He gently pulled out of you with a hiss and stood up. He grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom and gently cleaned your mixed cums from in between your legs. He tossed the washcloth aside and helped you pull off the stockings, kissing up and down your legs. He laid next to you and you immediately cuddled up to his bare chest. 

“Didn’t go to that party for a reason?” You mumbled and looked up at him.

“I’m pretty sure we went for a reason,” Sam said, then your phone went off. You got out of bed on shaky legs and looked for your phone. You saw it on the ground and picked it up. You got back into bed and saw there was a text from Dean. 

“It’s a text from Dean.” You unlocked your phone, “I killed the vamp. Hope you two horny kids didn’t do it on my bed. Cause if you did I’d kill the both of you. Use protection!” You read out loud, and Sam chuckled as you set the phone on the bedside table. You cuddled back up to Sam’s chest.

“Right, we were hunting a vamp.” Sam nodded, and you rolled your eyes as he wrapped arms around you and pulled you closer. 

“I’m too tired to even try to lecture you.” You sighed.

“If I recall you dragged me out of the bar.” 

“Oh, shut it.” You scoffed and shoved his face to the side. He laughed and kissed you on the head. You leaned up and kissed him passionately.

“I love you, Y/n/n/.” He smiled, and you returned it. 

“I love you too, Sammy.” You whispered, and he buried his face in your neck as you two drifted off to sleep. You really did put a spell on him.

[acklesterritory]

Bad Ideas_Ch. 1

Hey guys, I'm back with a new story.

*First*: I want to apologize if I tagged you in case you didn't want to. Unfortunately I mixed up my tag list so please even if you don't read this story let me know if you're on my blog's

1. Dean tags or 2.series tags or 3.oneshot tags.

And reblog so the others see this post too. Thanks

**Second*I'm planning on finishing this story in 2 parts but sometimes it can take longer so no promises.

Dean x Reader

This chapter words~4k

Series Warning: +18, a/b/o relationships, Dom/Sub(No details. You know I hate spoilers), Angst, Smut, Unprotected sex (You're wiser that that), Cheating, Language, Hurt reader

Summary: She was supposed to get married and imprint her beloved wolf but what happens when a dominant hunter shows up to hunt them?

This chapter song: Wild by John legend feat Gary Clark Jr. Listen here

And I stole @jay-and-dean 's divider *sorry*

Happy reading and may you leave me something cause feedbacks are writer's fuel.

Mad, Sad, pretty, savage, seductive, crazy!

An obvious alpha.

I knew it from the first time I laid my eyes on her.

Couple of weeks ago I was at a luxury restaurant in my Fed suit to meet a businessman who could be involved in our new case. Doing that random investigation, I was getting convinced that there ain't any useful information and he was nothing but a waste of the time. So I excused myself and left the table to call Sam in the lobby. He had to know it was a dead end. But just when I was putting my phone back in my pocket, someone grabbed my arm from behind and pushed me against the wall out of blue.

"Say your name."

Wasn't my first time to face a seductive woman but for some unknown reason her whisper sent a shiver down my spine and I couldn't stop my eyes from gazing at her curves in that elegant black outfit.

"Listen. I got myself into this awful situation where I had to face this filthy woman announcing everyone in my birthday party that she was sleeping with my fiance. So before he show up to stop me, I need you to help them realizing something very important about me. And that help will be appreciated. So make your mind. You can just simply say your name and mention your price or I will kill you to make a scene and skip everyone's pitty looks part." She told me, running her right leg up, between my legs. To make me feel the bulge of her thigh holester underneath her dress: *She had a gun*

Wetting my lips, I looked down into her eyes for a second. She had some make up on but I knew enough to be sure that wild look couldn't be fake. She was a werewolf who probably had no idea what she got herself into.

"Name's Dean." I bit on my lip. Why I let her know my real name? I had no idea. I didn't want to think about it either. I just wanted to hold my gaze there, Letting myself to catch on those burning flames in her eyes.

"And sorry sweetheart. I'm off the sale."

I brought my lips closer to her ear so she could hear my whisper. However I hadn't to bend so much. Even without those elegant highheels, she was taller than a normal chick.

"What do you want, then?" She almost hissed on my lips before I pushed her back.

"Maybe I want you to be even more angry. Who knows?" I joked, distracting her for a second by my intentional smirk.

"You are a hunter, aren't you?" This time she surprised.

"What?" I narrowed my eyes and peaked out the tongue to wet my lips when she turned around for a second to catch a glimpse of whoever was approaching us.

"Just save my honor and then I'm yours. Kill, rape, torture. I don't mind anymore." There was no regret, shame or sorrow in her tone. She just stated it like a random proven fact. No hesitation, no hard feelings, no doubts. She was speaking like a smart commander in a war field, negotiating with her enemy to just save the day.

And to be honest I was stunned by that behavior. I know that I could resist her when she right away reached out but the thing is I didn't want to. As soon as she snaked her arms around my neck, her smell surrounded me like a trap. A captivating one. So pleasant! Then her lips were on mine in a shameless open-mouthed kiss. With her tongue dancing with mine.

I closed my eyes and immediately blood started to run wild in my veins. Every fiber, every cell were reacting to her warm body against my cold existence. It felt strange. I never was aroused by a kiss this fast. Not even when I was just a virgin teen.

"Y/n?!" A gruff voice called her. So she had to draw an unintentional groan out of me to break the kiss.

"That's him." She murmured on my lips. And I opened my eyes to look at a tall man in his fancy tuxedo. He was handsome. But not as much as he was wealthy. His watch could cost the whole hotel itself!

"What are you doing?" Eyes burning, he stared at me. Like he was watching the most terrible scene ever in his life.

"Well, ..." She smiled mischievously, getting out of my arms to stand next to me.

"Just enjoying my heat with a man who actually can handle it." She stated, smiling with her head up, radiating power.

"What..." The man's gaze shifted between us in disbelief.

"What do you ... what does ..." He was getting red by anger. And it seemed she couldn't care less.

"This is a break up, Jamie. I'm done with your endless excuses. I'm done with you, sleeping around while you can't even satisfy my needs in the bed. I need a better man."

*well, shit*

"You're … how you … can …" The man stuttered, shaking his head in disbelief. I looked around and found out people were gathering around us slowly. From the corner of my eyes I spotted two hunk in suits in front of the main door. They were definetaly bodyguards.

"That's it. We are done." She announced while everyone held their breath; watching her taking off her ring and throwing it toward her newly "ex".

"Y/N! …" The man took a step forward. His eyes were on fire and rage. Still his tone was soft, unlike his rough voice. "You can't do this. It's just a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?" She laughed, tilting her head. Everyone could see how her fangs looked perfectly white and sharp: Ready, challenging, threatening!

"Is that so, Jamie?" She mocked before bringing out her phone out of her tiny clutch, throwing it to the guy after playing a video on it. By the noises I could hear, it was a sex type that made the man sweating bullets in no time.

"Now get the fuck out of my way and out of my life." She retorted, grabbing my hand. And as I was planning to win over the two bodyguards who mightly would stop us, we just reached to the main front door.

"Miss Y/l/N …" To my surprise, one of the bodyguards approached us politely. looking cool, calm, and all in control.

"You two can go home, Mark. I'm gonna spend the night with …" She hesitated and shut her eyes for a second to remember my name:

"… Dee. We probably need some private time for the next few days. I'll call you when I feel I need to get back home. But til that, I don't want any interruptions." She declared and by her steady and sure tone I could say she used to talk with them.

"But …"

"Just don't let Jamie get close to me ever again." She cut the bodyguard's word carelessly and then turned her face to look at me.

"You got any car?"

"Of course I do." I gave her my most proud smile.

"Ok then. Let's go out of here. I don't want to even take one more breath in here anymore."

I watched enough movies and read enough comics and slept with enough women to know that Y/n was a whole different savage alpha.

She was on the baby's seat in just her one single layer fancy dress that barely covered her body while it was freezing cold outside. To the point I could feel the chill in my FBI suit and coat the moment we walked out of the hotel. And still she protested me when I turned on baby's heater.

"She was pregnant." She said bluntly, a few minutes later, looking out of the window like she could see anything in road at that dark night through baby's steamed up glass.

I looked over her and catch a glimpse of her tears before she could wipe them.

"I can't believe he did this to me. Out of all the people, Jamie was the last one I expected him to betray me." She was hurting but her voice wasn't shaky. She still sounded more angry than sad.

"Maybe he didn't. Maybe the chick misused the hit of a moment to trick him."

*Why I'm defending him? He is a freaking werewolf!*

I had no idea! Maybe I was trying to soothe her pain. But Why?

"Yeah, maybe. But after all he is the one who let the devil in!" Her sound wasn't more than a whisper but it woke the old screams of my guiltyconscience in my head:

*How many times I had let the devil get in me?*

"Screw him." She said through her clenched teeth. Then she threw her head back and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Screw him. Screw dad. And screw the whole royal pack. Screw everything!"

I sighed, knowing she will be angry for a while. So I turned on the radio, changing the stations to find something that might distract her. I just didn't need to watch that lady's upcoming tears.

I … wanna take you so far.

Out past the Saturn rings

And into my heart

The rhythm catched my attention immediately. It sounds like a nice song. A comforting one.

I wanna drive you

Wild, wild, wild

I wanna love you

For miles and miles

I chuckled, patting Baby on the wheels.

We can go slow,

we don't need to rush

I'll take the wheel,

make you feel every touch

I wanna drive you

Wild, wild, wild

"Where is the lie, Baby? I always do." I chuckled, enjoying how the song perfectly suit us.

"Are you talking to me or to your old ass car?"

I was so ready to make Y/n regret that harsh remark, yet when I turned to give her my deadliest frown, she got me almost chocked on my tongue.

"Wha …"

A lace black lingerie hanging around the right knee, she had her legs wide open on my passenger seat‌, playing with her bare core with her delicate fingers while her left foot was using dashboard to support her weight.

Lay on the passenger's side

Tell me how fast you want

We'll get there tonight

Her right strap dropped when she jolted in her sex fever, almost revealing whole of her bare chest. And all of this was happening while she still had her eyes closed, panting in pain. I felt like I lost the ability to even form a God damn sound.

Oh, fire, you set me on fire

I swear you're the only one

I'd take on this ride

"What … are you … doing?!" My voice sounded horrible, scratchy and far. I darted my tongue to wet my lips but my mouth was already dry by watching her. It was no surprise that she didn't noticed my question. She was already lost in her body. Her neck was glistening under road's occasional faint lights and now all I could feel was her warmth in the small room of the car, already surrendered to her astounding smell, in middle of a freaking winter night.

… Oh, oh

Yeah

Wanna love you

Wanna touch you

Wanna drive you

Wild, wild, wild …

I jumped out of my skin when a sudden honk drew my attention out … to the road and I finally noticed the truck that could crash us to hell if I couldn't rotate the wheel just on time.

*Dang* Something beside me hit the windshield the moment I stepped on the break. Then a shattering sound cut the air.

"Y/N!" I screamed, trying to pull over without making any other mess.

"Hey … you hear me?" I asked as I turned to see her face buried in her hairs on the dashboard. A part of the windshield was broken in an oval shape, broken pieces scattered mostly on the passenger side while the rest of it had some cracks on.

"Y/N!" I called her again but when I couldn't get any answer, I get out of the car to circulate baby and open the passenger door.

"Hey … look here, can you hear me?" I pulled her carefully back, to rest her head against the seat, securing her neck between my hands. That was when my eyes catched on the sight of a deep cut on her forehead, right under the hair line. And it was bleeding.

"Y/n?"

She moaned, goosebumps raised on her skin everywhere around my fingers.

"I think I need to lay down on the back seat." She said, before opening her eyes.

"Are you in pain?" I couldn't help myself, not knowing why I suddenly would care that much?

She smiled and I reached to wipe the oozing blood on my thumb.

"I got a first-aid box in my trunk. Just wai…"

Before I could finish my saying and right as I started to withdraw, she grabbed my arm to hold me still.

"No, help me to the back seat." For a second I got lost in her eyes, feeling an odd fultter in the dip of my stomach, pulling me like a meaningless swarf toward the magnet of her wondrous touch.

"Please."

Mostly humans know that drinking sea water or getting hit by a gunshot can cause their death. But could that knowledge stop them from exploring oceans or fighting for their honor in the war fields?

"Dean …"

"Alright."

Well, I was a human too. A human who could be attracted to unknowns, being aware that it could be very dangerous. Or maybe more marvelous.

"You ok?" I asked as soon as I had her on my back seat, gazing at the sweat running down on the side of her face while one of my legs were resting inside of car, the other: still out, planted on the ground.

"I think I've hurt my back." I spotted a tremor in her voice as she avoided my puzzled look and stared down to her lap like she was hiding a secret there. Was that weapon still hidden there in that holster?

I checked my gun to be where it should've been. If she (as a werewolf) was up to kill me (as a hunter), I knew this could be her best shot. And honestly if It was me, I would've used the same trick.

"Are you gonna wait there for the rest of the night?" She raised her eyebrows and instantly hissed as the deep cut on her forehead got wrinkled with this simple move.

Taking a deep breath, I pulling myself completely in and closed the door behind. Well, I was aware that without any way out, she could've killed me much easier. But what kind of human could touch the moon without taking any fetal risk?

However I still didn't want to hurt her. So I hoped she wouldn't do what an enemy should do.

As I was all ready to confront her attack, she slightly turned her back to me. Then she grabbed her long hair and put them aside, giving me the access to her spine.

"Can you check it for me?"

Well, if she wanted to play, I was game too. In the end, I had killed enough werewolves to know how I could manage an alpha one like her. But … it was about something more. Something way stronger: A wild need and an ancient desire to touch her bare skin on my fingertips, tongue and teeth. A perfect example of a hunter and his prey. And yet … I was feeling like the first man who was about to discover the fire too.

"Do you want me to unzip it?" I asked to be sure. Never wanted her to feel like I would hurt her honor just because we were enemies. Even when touching her was all I could think about at the moment.

"Yes, please." She whispered and I noticed the same burning wish in her soft tone. So I couldn't help my fingers run their way on her back and touch the velvety fabric of her outfit.

She inhaled loudly as I unzipped the dress, watching the goosebumps raising on her skin as I was tracking down on her spine.

"I don't think you got any wound here."

"Then why I'm in pain?" She asked, leaning back to me. And I subconsciously pulling her dress down, not knowing why my everything wanted to touch her more?

"Hunter." Her breaths got quickened and as she rested her head back on my right shoulder and nuzzled her nose in my neck, I could tell she was still burning up.

"I'm in heat." She said, panting. And that was the moment I realized she was already lost by just imagining me inside of her.

"Y/n …"

"Dean ..." She whined as her hand found the side on my head.

"Dean, I need you." With that she pushed me down to claim my lips in a lustful kiss.

I could be a caveman or a scientist, or even an astronaut but for sure she was more than a thunderstorm or the electricity or even the mars itself.

"Ah … " She whimpered, her body twisted in my arms, like an angry wounded animal that was seeking for a remedy. From her owner.

"This is such a bad idea." I said as my hands grabbed her waist, trying to control her moves when she started to roll her hips impatiently.

"That's what people always say. To Galileo, To Da Vinci, even to ..." She claimed, taking my fingers with her delicate ones, to guide my hands up on her body.

" … to whoever with … " I stole her breath as my hands reached to her soft breasts.

"With the …"

She took a shaky breath to keep herself together. But I was that man who just had landed on the moon and now wasn't able to stop trying. So I grazed my teeth on the skin of her neck, marking her with a hickey right as I squeezed her breasts, giving her aroused nipples the special attention they deserved with my thumbs. Well, she fought to not fall apart and I had to fill her blank spaces:

"Best ideas?" I asked before biting on her lips, feeling the burning heat that was coming out of her skin. Could moon ever be the sun too?

"Hunter!" She almost cried as my left hand travels down on her belly and hips to find her already swelled bud and part her labia. "HUNTER!"

This time she really screamed as my thumb brushed her bud again while my other two digits sank in her warm core. Her walls sucked on my fingers.

"OH GOD!"

I was still rubbing her nipple with my other hand when she dug her nails in my arms.

"No!" She gasped.

"No? I thought you said it's not a bad idea."

I whispered before taking her earlobe between my teeth and pulled on it as her back fought hard to arch against my body. She got speechless, drown in whatever the black hole we both had fallen into. Now time and place were lost for us so I tightened my arms more around her body.

"Shush, alpha. Take it easy." I said as I removed my fingers from where I was making her weak. And that was out of the bare truth of a human's nature. We love to possess and we love to own. Even if it's the moon and the sun or maybe a lost star in the Infinity of the universe.

She jolted forward in ecstasy and I had to grabbed her wrists firmly before she could end herself: "No."

"Please! … God." She whimpered. Thighs shaking with need and thirst. But I knew better.

"My name is Dean."

But what else could make a negligible creature like me feel like a God more than this wolf of women during her pleasure?

I kissed her shoulder and hugged her from behind, letting her cool down as our warmth were mixing in the small room of the car. She was panting again.

"Come here."

I turned her chin toward my face, tasting her lips in an open mouthed and yet tender kiss, taking my time to draw some deep moans out of her chest.

Til she was nothing more than a pounding heart or a throbbing mess and a mind which had already got blind by lust.

Somehow I wanted this prideful moment to last forever.

"Deeaaaan!" She rubbed her thighs against each other, trying her best to control her wild necessity to come. I could tell it was making her mad cause now she couldn't even sit up in my lap.

"Lay down, sweetheart" I encouraged. And as she did, I got rid of our clothes as soon as I could. When I was done, I noticed her passionate gaze on me.

"You'll be the death of me!" She admitted and I bent to lick her along her jaw.

"No, I need you alive. We still got some dirty work to do."

My whisper made her shiver. And moan. Again and again.

Looking down, I watched how her body were twisting under me, once more rubbing her thights together as I was holding her wrists up beside her head.

"Open up, alpha." I commended, reaching to her core, making her pants in pain as I mercilessly squeezed her bud.

She took another shaky breath, as she parted her legs for me. So I take the advantage to lube myself with her juice as she was already dripping.

"I said don't come yet." I slapped her breast and bent to bite her hard on the other one, sliding myself in her velvety heaven.

"DEAN!" She cried and her eyes rolled. And I tried to freeze this image in my mind. Could a God be more proud of himself?

But It was just the beginning. I decided to start my favorite rhythm to slam into her. And kept watching her bliss and how her soft and round breast were bouncing every time out hips met.

"You're doing good, sweetheart. I know you can." I could not stopped my smile when I realized she'd almost fainted, fighting against her mad orgasm.

"Aa…ha." She tried to answer but it sounded more like a painful moan which I muffled it in a kiss. Sweet and sore. Wet and shameless. We now were a part of one another. The mystery was solved. The cold God was melting in the arms of the sun. The man kind had won the moon.

"Come." I groaned and her walls clenched around me, sucking me inside of her.

Her back arched violently and I had to clutched at the leather seats to keep myself up when an unstoppable rush of pleasure hit both of us.

And just like that, we made the big trouble. The gravity that could swallow our futures all together …

"To be continued".

Temporary tag list: @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @slamminmine @missafairy @anunstablefangirl @lauraashley93 @mimaria420 @roonyxx @chocolateheart @cocahood @pandaxo79 @bennyspengwing @holylulusworld

[lulu-zodiac]

Title: Peppermint

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Tags: Fluff, Pining, First Kiss

Summary: Dean shares a Christmas tradition with Cas.

If you want to be added to my fic tag list, let me know! <3

.

There’s a little red tin in the glove compartment of the impala, and when Cas picks it up, he can feel the way it’s scratched and dented with age.

“What’s this?”

Dean glances over, and something unreadable passes across his face. It reminds Cas of how he looks when Sam talks about their childhood, nostalgic and complicated – not happiness, but something close. “Where’d you find that?”

“It was just in here with your Dad’s old phone, under the map,” Cas replies, turning it over interestedly in his hands. There’s a faded image on the front he can’t quite make out, worn green and silver and gold. The colours of Dean’s eyes, as he looks at Cas in the half-light of the unfolding road. “What is it?”

“It used to have peppermints in it,” Dean says, looking back to the road. There’s a wistful kind of sadness in his gaze, but a slight smile playing across his mouth. “Sammy begged Dad to buy it at some gas station when he was, I don’t know, maybe four. He didn’t even like peppermints, he just liked the Christmas tree on the front of the tin, wouldn’t shut up about it. It was filled with those red and white striped candy canes, you know the ones?”

Cas nods, watches the moving December colours play across Dean’s features.

“Well, that year we were stuck in here all Christmas day while Dad was wrapping up a hunt. Sammy was old enough to know it was Christmas, so it kind of sucked. But I got Sammy singing Christmas songs and we drew stupid snowmen cartoons on the windows, and it was okay, we passed the time. Dad was gone so long we ended up eating most of the candy canes while we were waiting, but Sammy insisted on saving the last one for Dad. He still hero-worshipped Dad at that point, even though Dad was barely a father to him – was barely even there, to see Sammy growing up” Dean breaks off momentarily, shakes his head like he’s trying to surface from deep water. Cas notes the set of Dean’s jaw, the way his knuckles are white around the wheel, resists the urge to reach out, soften them.

“Sam knows how much you did now, Dean,” he says, instead, into the quiet.

Dean makes a dismissive sound, carries on as though Cas hasn’t spoken at all, but the tension in his hands is less strained; “Anyway, when Dad finally came back that night he was only a little beat up, in a good mood for once. He tried to take us for some real food, but everywhere was closed by that time so we just sat in here together and Dad broke the last candy cane into three for us to share,” Dean glances at the box Cas is still holding. It feels warm in Cas’s hands now, the mental heating up in his palms as he listens to the story, as though it’s slowly coming alive. “It was one of the better Christmases, actually. Dad refilled the box with them each December, handed them out to me and Sammy when we’d been driving all night. It was one of the few traditions we ever had,” he shrugs, adjusts his grip self-consciously on the wheel, “Stupid, really,” he adds, in that way he has of diminishing anything personal he says, “It’s probably empty now.”

Obligingly, Cas opens the box. It is empty, save a couple of crumpled silver wrappers, but it smells of ghostly peppermint. Cas sniffs, imagines little Dean and Sam sitting in the impala alone on Christmas day. His chest aches at the thought of Dean trying to distract Sam, keep him happy and amused while Dean was probably afraid. “I’ve never tried peppermint,” he tells Dean, inhaling again and trying to figure out the scent. It’s sharp, clean, a little powdery. Like dusty snow. “What’s it like?” he asks, curiously.

“Hard to describe to anyone who hasn’t tasted it,” Dean says, “Like most things. It’s – sweet. Kind of makes the inside of your mouth feel cold when you inhale.”

Cas looks at him, watches the lights of the road reflect in his green gaze.

“Hey, we can get some, if you want,” Dean says, nodding towards the road, “There’s a gas station just up ahead, I wouldn’t mind stopping to stretch my legs anyway.”

“I would like that,” Cas smiles at the thought of getting to taste a little piece of Dean’s history, watches as the lights get brighter and the car slows, pulling into the empty gas station.

Outside, it’s cold, the dark biting at Cas’s skin as he waits for Dean to return from the kiosk. He leans against the cool, smooth metal of the impala, stares skywards for a while. It’s cloudy, the sky is swollen with snow. Cas likes not being able to see the heavens, sometimes. On days like this, earth is full enough of wonder all by itself. The greasy spill of gas station lights on frozen concrete, a little metal box of memories in his pocket, Dean’s footsteps echoing through the quiet towards him. The lights of heaven could never compare.

“Here,” Dean’s nose is pink from the cold, eyes bright as he leans back against the car beside Cas, hands him a paper packet. “Peppermint candy canes. Go on, knock yourself out.” He sticks his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and stares up at the sky, like Cas had been moments before. Cas wonders whether Dean is comforted by the blankness too, or if he aches for the far-distant twinkling lights and their warmth, so long absent from his own life.

“Will you have one too?” Cas asks, peering into the bag and tentatively drawing out one of the striped candies before handing it back to Dean.

“Why not?” Dean’s fingers are warm against Cas’s for a moment, rough with calluses, and then there’s nothing again. He pulls out a candy and stuffs the paper bag into his pocket, begins unwrapping the little umbrella-shaped stick. “I can’t remember the last time I had one of these, you know. Probably the Christmas before Sam went off to college.” He puts the candy between his lips, sucks. Cas suddenly has to catch his breath, cold and startling in his lungs. “Hey, what are you waiting for?” Dean is looking at Cas, lips red and plump around the candy, eyes bright in the cold air.

“Oh,” Cas looks down at his own untouched candy, brings it up to his mouth and sucks experimentally. “It’s like… toothpaste,” he frowns at Dean, letting the cool, clean taste fill his mouth. He sucks again, slower, trying to get a sense of the flavour. “It’s quite nice.”

Dean’s cheeks are pink with the cold now too. “Uh – yeah, it is, I guess.” He’s looking at Cas intently in the muted lights of the deserted gas station, with an expression that is familiar yet unreadable and makes Cas feel warm even in the cold.

“This is what Christmas tasted like to you?” Cas sucks the candy again, looks at Dean.

“Once, I suppose so,” Dean sounds distracted, but his tone doesn’t match the intent focus in his gaze as he looks at Cas. The cold has made his cheeks flush darker still, and the light is muted enough that only an arc of green is visible around the black of his pupils.

“It does make my mouth feel cold,” Cas observes, with interest. He sucks the candy further into his mouth and pulls it out with a pop, feeling the cool cleanness of the air being pulled between his lips. Dean clears his throat slightly. “I haven’t encountered any other food that has this effect,” Cas licks slowly at the tip of the candy, and is aware of Dean inhaling sharply, “Do you know what causes it?”

“I don’t,” Dean’s voice is slightly hoarser than usual.

“Very interesting,” Cas contemplates, licking the tip of the candy again with a swirl of his tongue. Dean makes a stifled sound, and Cas looks up with a frown. “Don’t you want yours?” he asks, eyeing Dean’s uneaten candy, “Or do you only enjoy them when you can eat them with Sam? I’m sorry, I know I can’t provide that part of the tradition for you.”

“Sam isn’t the only person I can have good memories with, Cas. This can be a new tradition, okay?” Dean says, and he’s glowing, so beautiful here in the cold all lit up. “But,” he pauses, swallowing, “You’re right, I’m not sure I want mine.”

“You don’t?” Cas frowns, worriedly. He pulls his own candy away from his mouth.

The colour is high on Dean’s cheeks as he shakes his head, “No. I think I’d rather have yours, actually.” And before Cas can say anything, Dean’s lips are suddenly on his, soft and warm, so warm in the cold air. Cas feels as though he’s been holding his breath for years and is suddenly able to breathe. It’s wonderful, the heat of Dean’s mouth against his, the slick of his tongue twining with Cas’s, tasting of peppermint and making something hot curl deep in Cas’s stomach. His hands are cupping Cas’s face, rough skin, tender touch. Cas is breathing hard when Dean pulls back, both of their breath clouding the December air between them. “Tastes better on you,” Dean grins, and it’s a beautiful thing, tentative and free here in the cold without heaven watching.

Cas reaches out and grabs the lapels of Dean’s leather jacket, pulls him in again. This time it’s harder, urgent, Dean’s breath coming in stifled gasps into Cas’s mouth as Cas presses him back against the impala, sinks into the heat of Dean’s mouth, the warm, hard line of Dean’s body, pliant under him. He can taste the desperation on Dean’s tongue along with the peppermint, and he chases it, deepening the kiss until Dean is groaning against him, clutching at Cas’s coat. Cas thinks he might be making noises too, but he can’t think about anything except Dean, here at last in all the ways he should be, warm and real. Oblivion.

In his coat pocket, he can feel the outline of the little peppermint tin where their heartbeats edge closer to each other. He smiles against Dean’s mouth, loves that he’ll never be able to taste peppermint without remembering this; the shine of Dean’s eyes in the muted December lights, the heat of their bodies pressed together, the sky frozen and empty overhead, a blank canvas for their own stars.