#sam + the brother who raised me would never give up
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Levianthan blossoms as hearts
Leviathan blossoms as the heart of creation, ugly and born of destruction
The Leviathan blossoms ARE hearts. They're three-pronged hearts. Wrapped in husks (bodies), with blood-red centers (heart/soul). Look closely, and each Levianthan blossom sports three chambers. It's reptilian, like the Leviathan sea serpents, like the heart of an (Immortal) Snake.
WARNING: Gore (Ketch's heart getting ripped out, mainly)
Like the triparted road that has become the "heart" of our narrative, the Leviathan blossom also symbolizes what's left of Team Free Will: Sam, Dean, Cas:
These are familial flowers, signifying the eternal message that family makes you stronger, but it also makes you vulnerable.
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Hearts are delicious?
Everywhere you look in season 15, Gods and Angels are consuming hearts. Hearts are a classic food of the Gods. (Nectar, ambrosia are legendary as well, and they're after nectar for their spell.) Also, in some versions of Biblical literature, it is the body of the Leviathan that God uses both to feed his chosen ones in the Wilderness and/or create Earth & Heaven.
(1) Ardat kills Ketch by taking his heart. She does this once his heart becomes strong and courageous--once he refuses to give up his friends. (2) The witch screams, "I'll grind your heart to dust." (3) Jack devours a heart.
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Leviathan flowers + the miracle of death, decay, and rebirth
So. Sprung forth from the Leviathan body of God's oldest enemy, this is the fruit that would allow them to Cage God. It's a betrayal in every sense of the word. It's using the miracle of death, decay, and rebirth against Him.
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Cas + the little heart he saved
Even though all the other familial hearts were destroyed (reduced to ashes, in fact), Cas saved this one. He stole this little heart, and he fought for it. "Once I had the blossom, I fought." (The blossom was timed to the prayer. The blossom is, in many ways, symbolic of the prayer, too.) It's also the mixtape. He heard it.
///
Later in the episode, we cut to where the blossom is being prepared for the Mark Spell. And two lobules are mostly missing. One is entirely missing, and one is open and weeping, mortally wounded. It resembles a dissected aorta. Only one is intact.
Two hearts are being crushed by this pestle, though only the blood of one party is being spilled.
Cas has saved it, but he's doomed its happiness.
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Even when you win, you lose
When Sam chooses not to smash the globe, Sam isn't just losing hope. He's choosing not to break Dean and Cas's hearts. Because that's what winning will do.
*looks between them, on the cusp of realizing something*
"I can't. I'm sorry, I just can't." Even when you win (war), you lose so much that it no longer feels like victory.
///
Too bad Chuck was always going to crush them. (How's that for pacifism, eh, Sam?)
Starting with those two.
Cas.
And Dean.
Note the grace-like smoke emission of the orb, as well as the meaty gruesomeness of its guts.
Kill the story by weakening its heart.
#levianthan + hearts#tfw + hearts#spn + leviathan#yahweh vs the leviathan#spn chaoskampf#dean/cas + hearts#dean + cas as faith#sam + the brother who raised me would never give up
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Ladies With Experience
Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Summary: When Dean makes an off-handed comment about "preferring ladies with experience", you try (and fail) to not let it get under your skin. You're a virgin, but you've done just about everything else, and when you talk to Dean about it, he offers to be your first. He's your best friend, and you've been in love with him forever... who are you to deny him?
Tags: smut, first time, virgin!reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom!dean, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, fingering, not-so-innocent reader
Word Count: 5k
A/N: As always, thank you to my loves @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing. Would be nowhere without you two 🥰
You can also read me on Ao3!
DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
“Anyways, let’s say you’re right, fine. Who would want virgins?”
You know Sam didn’t mean it like that , and you felt stupid for letting it bother you. For letting this case bother you.
“You got me,” Dean replied with a shrug. “I prefer ladies with experience.”
And there it was, like a punch straight to the gut. You hated that it hurt you as much as it did. So what, you’ve never had sex. But you’ve done almost everything else. You knew what you liked and what you didn't. You’ve been around the block a few times with the various sex toys in your nightstand drawer. It’s not like you weren’t experienced at all . But that didn’t make Dean’s words hurt any less. You swallowed down the burger and fries from lunch that were threatening to come up, before standing up from your seat at the small motel room table.
The brothers looked at you, eyebrows raised.
“I — bathroom,” you managed, before quickly making your way there, slamming the door shut behind you.
Staring at your reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror, you let the tears fall. Silently, you wiped them away as Dean’s words echoed in your head, and you hated that you loved him. Hated that you’d never be ballsy enough to admit it to him, especially now.
Something like five minutes passed and you knew you didn’t have long before one of the boys — likely Sam — would come knocking to check on you. You flushed the unused toilet so they wouldn’t suspect anything and turned on the faucet, splashing your tear-soaked face with cold water before using a hand towel to wipe it dry. When you emerged, the guys were packing up their duffels.
“Did you find them?” you asked, hopeful.
Dean checked his gun, before flipping the safety on and stuffing it in the back waistband of his jeans.
“I sure as hell hope so, ‘cause if I’m about to crawl through the goddamn sewers for nothing —”
“They’re down there, Dean,” Sam replied, giving him a pointed look. He turned his attention to you, and if he had noticed anything off, he hadn’t let his face show it. “You coming?”
You grabbed your gun off the dresser and holstered it in reply.
Six hours later, the three of you were sweaty, panting, and splattered in blood after a close fight with dragons in the sewers. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to wade in any actual sewage. You hadn’t said a word to either brother since you had gone to the bathroom six hours ago, and to keep them from growing suspicious of your sudden silence, you opted to take a nap in the backseat of the Impala on the way back to the motel.
You stirred awake as Dean pulled into the parking lot, barely conscious enough to catch the end of the brothers’ conversation.
“I’ll get her,” Dean said.
Sam nodded and got out of the car, gently closing the passenger side door before heading inside.
You rubbed your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them as Dean’s face came into focus. He was looking at you over his shoulder, one arm resting on the top of the front bench seat.
“Mornin’, sunshine.”
It took a moment for the feeling you had been filled with prior to your nap to come back to you, his words from earlier echoing in your head. I prefer ladies with experience . You shot him a cold glare.
“Alright. What’d I do?” he asked, turning in his seat to better angle himself towards you.
The question caught you off guard.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You haven’t said a word since we left for that hunt, Y/N.”
“How do you know Sam didn’t do something?”
He replied with a knowing look.
You stared at your hands, clasped together in your lap, and muttered, “It’s nothing. Stupid.”
“C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.
You hated this. How easy he was to talk to. How you had always been able to tell him what was on your mind.
But not this . You couldn’t tell him this.
You shook your head.
“Hey,” he said softly, shifting in his seat. He was fully turned around now, reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at those green eyes. “Talk to me,” he repeated, no room for argument in his words.
“I can’t,” you whispered. You wanted to throw up. He was your best friend, and you were utterly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him. He preferred girls with experience, and you had none. Not in the way that it mattered. And he had known that, thanks to a late-night stake-out game of Never Have I Ever .
His jaw clenched. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”
You briefly met his gaze. You couldn’t hold it for long.
“Was it something I said?” he prodded.
You stared at the buttons of his open flannel, your eyes quickly darting up to meet his in silent confirmation.
He sighed, pulling his hand away from your face and folding his arms on top of the backseat, resting his chin on his forearm.
“Do I at least get a hint?”
“Dean, I —”
“C’mon, Y/N. You’ve never not told me anything.”
“Why are you pushing this?”
“Because I can’t stand not talking to you.”
Your heart leaped at that confession, however innocent it might have been.
“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”
“Because I’m making you. You would have silent treatmented me into next week.”
You didn’t respond.
He sighed again, defeated. “Y/N, c’mon. Please? Whatever I said, I’m sorry. I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”
“You didn’t mean that you ‘prefer girls with experience’?” you retorted quite sassily. The question tumbled out before you even had time to think of the implication that came with asking it.
Dean opened and closed his mouth like a damn fish.
“Thought so.” You began to move to make your way out of the car, when Dean reached out and grabbed your wrist.
“No,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean it.”
“It’s okay if you do. I told you, it was a dumb thing to be upset about.”
“No, it’s not. I didn’t stop to think about how this case might have been affecting you. You know I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, right?”
You swallowed, nodded. His hand felt like fire around your wrist.
“But for what it’s worth, I wasn’t serious. I don’t prefer anyone one way or the other. Sex is sex. If anyone’s willing to have it with me, I consider myself lucky.”
“Romantic,” you quipped.
A smile tugged at his lips. “I could show you, y’know.”
You almost threw up right there in the backseat. Your eyes grew wide.
“What?” you croaked.
“Well, if you’re worried about not having any experience… I just mean I’d be happy to, y’know. Show you the ropes.”
“… Of sex?” Really, you thought it was cute that he had this misconception of you. You knew about the ropes. You’d just never been tied up with them.
“Of whatever you want.”
“You think I want to have sex with you?” It came out harsher than you meant it to, like part of you still thought you could hide the fact that you were in love with him. Like if you just joked it off it would go away, and you wouldn’t have to cross this line with him, even though you so badly wanted to. But you had to protect yourself, your heart.
You didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes.
“No, that’s not what I —”
You suddenly felt the need to clarify your question.
“No, I — I didn’t mean it like that either.”
Dean’s face morphed into one of confusion. “…So you do want to have sex with me?”
Your cheeks flushed red, and your throat bobbed. “Uh…”
“Forget it, stupid question, you don’t have to an—”
“Yeah,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Fuck it. Who were you to hold yourself back from the one thing you’ve been wanting for years? You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I really, really do.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Seriously?”
“Oh, cut the shit, Dean. Like you’re surprised. Everyone wants to have sex with you.”
He scoffed. “ Everyone , Y/N, really?”
“There are literally smutty fanfictions written about you,” you replied, reaching into your back pocket for your phone, dead set on proving your point.
“Gross. And Becky doesn’t count as everyone.”
“Actually, Becky only writes for Sam.”
You realized what you said at the same time he did, and he eyed you suspiciously.
“Why do you know that?”
God dammit. “I don’t. I mean — I — like, she obviously loves Sam. So, like, she wouldn’t write porn about you. Obviously.”
“Uh huh…” There was an uncomfortable silence for a beat or three. And then, “How much smut have you read about me?”
Your face felt like it had just been rinsed with fucking lava, and you knew it probably looked as red as it, too.
“None!” you exclaimed, way too quickly.
Dean smirked. “You do really wanna have sex with me,” he remarked, like he couldn’t believe it.
“Trust me, the urge is fading by the second.”
His grin disappeared almost instantly. “Would it help if I told you that I think about fucking you all the time, too?”
“Well, I don’t think about it all the —”
“Y/N.” He said your name like a warning, and the tone of his voice settled right in your core.
“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Yeah, that helps.”
“Good,” he smirked, before grabbing his phone from beside him.
“Uh… What are you doing?” You watched as he scrolled for a second, pressing a button before putting the phone to his ear.
“Telling Sammy to beat it.”
Your eyes grew wide. “What!?” you whisper-yelled. “No! Just — we can just do it back here!”
He gave you a pointed look. “I’m not taking your virginity in the backseat of my car, Y/N.”
“Why not!?”
“Because we’re not sixteen, for one. And for two… I wanna make it special.” He rushed the last bit out, like he was embarrassed to say it. And he should be. You cringed as you heard it.
“Oh my God,” you began.
“Shut up.”
“You did not just say that.”
“Shut up. Sam, answer your phone, God dammit!”
“I have done, like, almost everything else, you know. In the backseats of many, many cars. You don’t need to make it special for me, Deano,” you teased.
“For the last time, shut your mouth, or I’m gonna shut it for you,” he said, the look he gave letting you know he wasn’t in the mood to play. No, he wanted to fuck you. Beyond that, he wanted to dominate you. And you were more than happy to submit.
You might have been a virgin physically, but mentally? Mentally, you’d probably give Dean a run for his money.
Sam didn’t answer. Naturally. He was probably in the shower, but you were kind of grateful because as much as you wanted Dean, you didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable. Or worse, give him any reason to give you the talk . Because he totally would. After trying his brother two more times, Dean decided it would be better to just get a room of your own, and you were much happier with that decision.
You watched as he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping aside, gesturing for you to go ahead.
“Ladies first.”
“You mean you’re not gonna carry me over the threshold?” you joked. “Thought you wanted to make this special .”
He gave you an unamused look, and you shot back a sarcastic closed-mouth smile before you were being swept off of your feet and over his shoulder faster than you could process.
“Dean!” you squealed, as he carried you through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before practically throwing you onto the bed.
He was hovering over you seconds later, his face a few inches from yours, and the mood shifted from playful to serious.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
You nodded, your fingers coming up to play with the collar of his flannel.
“If I tell you something, you promise you won’t make fun of me?” you questioned, your eyes glued to the plaid pattern on his shirt.
“Promise.”
“I was kinda… holding out for you.” You drew your eyes up to meet his.
“Seriously?” he asked, half laughing. You could tell it wasn’t because he thought it was funny. It was because he couldn’t believe it.
You swallowed nervously, nodding again as you stared into those green eyes, and you hoped that this meant as much to him as it did to you. Something told you it did.
“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he said.
You tilted your head in question.
“About making it special for you. I know it’s like, the grossest thing I could have possibly said but, you deserve so much better than me, and so if —”
“There’s no one better for me, you idiot.” And you almost told him everything. That you’ve been in love with him ever since you met one summer at Bobby’s, back when you were just kids. That everything felt like it led up to this moment. That you wanted him to fuck you and make love to you all at once. That you didn’t want this to be the only time he did. But instead, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him towards you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt like it could have powered an entire country’s electric grid.
He deepened it, and the two of you were nothing but tongues and teeth and lips — it wasn’t sexy. It was hungry. Starved, more like. Like he had been thinking about kissing you just as long as you had been thinking about him.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips down towards your denim-covered core, down until you felt the hardness underneath his jeans pressed up against the spot where you needed him most, down until you couldn’t help but grind against it. He moaned as he kissed you, so you did it again. And again. And again. And —
“You need to stop that.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. You noticed that your arms were above your head, his hands pinning your wrists against the mattress. You don’t know when that happened, but you weren’t complaining. In fact, it spurred you on.
You smiled mischievously and rutted against him once more.
“What’re you gonna do about it, Winchester?”
He dropped his forehead to yours, steadying his breaths.
“I can fuck you like it’s your first time, or I can fuck you how I actually want to.”
“And how’s that?”
He took a shaky breath, like he was actually having a hard time controlling himself. You felt a sense of pride shoot through you at that.
“Like the fucking brat you are.”
You almost came from that alone.
Wanna know some common misconceptions about virgins? That they don’t have kinks. That they don’t watch porn. That they don’t have a plethora of sex toys in their nightstand. That they sit and crochet in their convent dorm room all day. Sure, you were years past the age when girls typically lose their virginity, but you were no saint. In fact, you enjoyed being quite the opposite. And you enjoyed being put in your place.
“Do your worst.”
It was like something in him snapped. His eyes were lust-blown and hungry and you didn’t miss the way his jaw ticked, and then he was undressing you so fast that you could’ve been part of a quick change act. He muttered something about a light system as he took off your clothes, and you nodded in a way that let him know that you already knew how all of that worked.
When you were down to just a black lace bra and panties, he paused as his fingers hooked under your waistband. He stared at you, his expression serious, and you knew that he was going to give you one more warning. One more opportunity to say, “Actually, I’d like to have a totally normal, non-kinky, first time experience, please.” But that wasn’t what you wanted.
“You sure you know what you’re asking for?”
You rolled your eyes. “I trust you. Put me in my goddamn place, Winchester. You’ve only been wanting to do it for the past two hours.”
“Oh, I’ve been waiting to do it for a lot longer than that, sweetheart.”
“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, yeah,” he replied, huffing a small laugh before pulling off your panties in one swift motion. His hands came to rest on your bare thighs as he locked his eyes with yours. “Any hard limits?”
You shook your head. “I trust you. I mean, like, don’t pee on me or —”
“Not gonna happen. But… most everything else?”
“Dean,” you began, looking at him pointedly, “I trust you. If it helps, I’ve used like, toys on myself before. And I don’t mean just a vibrator, I mean like… well, you get the gist.”
“So I don’t have to go easy on you, is what you’re saying?”
“Put me in my place,” you repeated.
“Alright,” he replied, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs as he roughly pushed them apart, “but just so we’re clear, that’s the last order you’ll be giving tonight.”
Your throat bobbed and you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
You meant it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. No, the title came out in a way that made his jaw clench and his eyes darken and it stoked the fire raging in your core.
Dean didn’t waste any more time talking after that, his tongue moving through your folds seconds later, drawing gasps and soft moans from your lips. You arched into him, your hands in his hair, silently begging for more. It wasn’t the first time a man had gone down on you, but it was the first time it felt like this .
He pinned your hips down to the bed with one hand splayed over your abdomen and then his tongue was inside you and “eating you out” didn’t come close to describing his ministrations. He was devouring you like his life depended on it, like the sounds you were making were a goddamn Zeppelin song that he wasn’t anywhere near done listening to. And then he added a finger, and then another, and it didn’t matter how many times you had imagined him doing this while you had your own fingers inside you — nothing would have prepared you for how good the real thing felt.
“Oh — fuck,” you gasped, and he chuckled into your sex and you had to actively think about not coming on his face and ending this whole experience early.
“You’re close,” he observed, flicking his tongue over your clit as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, and it was so fucking hot how he just knew that. It was like he had been fucking you for years, the way he knew your body, your tells.
You nodded. “Mmhm,” you confirmed, unable to form words with the way the coil in your abdomen was tightening.
“Hold it,” he ordered.
Your eyes shot open, because it wasn’t the command you were expecting, and you tried to lift your head to shoot him a cold glare but you couldn’t. And he just kept pumping, flicking, licking, chuckling — fucking asshole.
“Mm — fuck — please!” you cried out.
“When you come tonight, it’s gonna be on my cock. So hold it.”
You didn’t think you could. You had played this game with yourself and your vibrator and your self-control was majorly lacking and God his mouth and fingers felt so fucking good and you were there, the coil wound so goddamn tight, it would take nothing for you to let it snap, and then —
He stopped.
He pulled his mouth away from your core, his fingers out of your pussy, and you were writhing underneath him, because you had been right there and you needed him to be touching you again right the fuck now.
You whined.
He spanked your pussy. Not hard or anything, just enough to see if it was okay with you, and fuck, was it.
“Stop whining,” he demanded. He positioned himself so he was hovering over you again, his face inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes. “Or I’ll give you something to whine about.”
You were curious as to what that something would be, but sensed that right now wouldn’t be the best time for that question. You nodded instead.
“Good girl.” He smiled when he said it, like he knew exactly what those two words would do to you.
You squirmed underneath him, it had been too long since he’d last touched you. Too long being thirty seconds at most, but still. It had felt like hours.
“Has anyone ever told you,” he began, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on your collarbone, “that you are very,” another kiss to the other side, “very,” one more to the middle of your chest, “impatient?” He slowly pulled down the left cup of your bra, your breast spilling out of it. “Makes me wanna take my time.”
His eyes stayed glued to yours as his head moved down to your hardened nipple, taking it into his mouth at a goddamn snail’s pace. You arched your back, and he let you this time, chuckling at how easy it was to make your body react. His other hand slipped underneath you, unclasping your bra in a way that reminded you that he had a lot of experience doing so, and you refused to water the seed of jealousy that had sprouted from the thought. It didn’t matter that he had done this a million times. All that mattered was that he was doing it now, with you.
He pulled your bra off and threw it haphazardly over his shoulder, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were completely naked, and he still had 87 fucking layers on, the outermost of which was still speckled with dragon blood, and it’s not that you were anywhere near clean, but you certainly didn’t want those clothes touching your bare skin.
“Dean?” you rasped, and he pulled away from your nipple to give you his full attention.
“You okay, sweetheart? Do you want to st—”
“No! God, no. It’s just —” you sighed, exasperated. This was dumb. You were going to stop him for this? Your eyes landed on a spot of blood on the shoulder of his flannel. Yes, yes you were, because that’s gross. “It’s just that your clothes are covered in monster blood and I’m like, totally naked, and I don’t want —”
He chuckled like you were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “I gotchya, baby.”
Baby. Baby ? You tried not to overthink the pet name as he climbed off the bed to take his clothes off, watching you the entire time. Sweetheart, you’d been called a million times. He called everyone sweetheart. But baby? Baby was his car, and no one else. Unless, that’s what you were to him now. His, and no one else’s. You filed the thought away under “Things to Think About After You Lost Your Virginity to Dean Winchester”.
He was in nothing but his boxers now, his cock already hard underneath them, and you bit your lip as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slid them off. And then, there he was, exactly like you’d imagined him but also better, because this was real and happening. You gaped at him, at his size. He wasn’t any bigger than the fake one you had in your nightstand, but that one was nine inches and you could never fit it all the way in. He was perfect. All of him.
“You okay?” he asked again, crawling back onto the bed.
“Mhm,” you managed, gulping.
He was on top of you again, his forearm holding up his weight as his free hand came to grab your thigh, hooking it over his hip and leaning down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as he moved his hips, teasing you with it.
“Dean,” you breathed.
“Hm?”
“I want…” you couldn’t find it in yourself to finish your request.
“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered.
You decided you liked “baby” better.
“Please.”
“I thought you wanted me to put you in your place?”
You shook your head. “N-next time. Just, please .”
His eyebrows shot up, and you realized what you had said.
“Next time, huh?” he asked, with that shit-eating grin of his.
You rolled your eyes. He stopped moving, the smile wiped off his lips as he gripped you underneath your chin, somewhere between rough and gentle, the look on his face telling you he wasn’t messing around.
“Roll your eyes at me again, and next time I’ll really do my worst.”
You bit back a smile, and you just knew he was thinking, Brat. But you asked your question anyway.
“But not this time?” There was a devilish gleam in your eyes. You were tempting him, and he knew it.
“Do you ever get tired of being such a brat?”
“Dunno,” you shrugged. “Do you ever get tired of it?”
His jaw tensed, and he forced a sardonic, closed-lip smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Hm. But not this time, right?”
“Y/N —” he warned.
“Afraid you’re gonna hurt me? Scare me? What’s really keeping you from putting me in my place… Sir?”
For the second time that night, something in him snapped. You yelped as he flipped you over and grabbed your hips, dragging them upwards so your ass was in the air and your chest was on the mattress. Four hits to your cheeks came down in quick succession, and when you reached your hand behind you to block them, it was quickly pinned to the small of your back. Three more hits followed, accompanied by a pathetic, “Ow!” from your lips.
“Color?” he questioned roughly.
“So fucking green,” you replied, dazed.
Seven more hits followed, each one harder than the last, and you didn’t think there was anything better than the sting you were feeling right now. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to mark you up like this.
“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he commented. Five more hits.
“Oh, fuck!” you cried out at the last hit, one that felt like it reverberated through your entire body. One that definitely left a handprint behind.
“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question. He spanked you four more times. “You just wanted me to mark you up, is that it? Think of me every time you sit down for the next few days, hm?” Three more.
“Mmph!” Your cries were muffled by the comforter.
“Yeah, I can tell. Look at this fucking mess.” He dragged his fingers through your soaked folds. “Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath, and then he was flipping you back over. He nestled himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes. “Are you sure?”
You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied breathily.
He slid into you slow and easy, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out.
“Good?��� he asked.
“So fucking good.”
When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when the time did come, this was how you wanted to go out.
“Harder,” you encouraged, and he obliged. “Faster.”
He was properly fucking you now. Hard and fast and dirty. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, forcing him to go deeper. His head was buried in your neck, your nails were clawing up his back, and the room was filled with moans and pants and expletives that put a sailor’s mouth to shame.
“Shit, baby,” he panted into your neck. “God damn, you feel good. So fucking tight.” He sped up his thrusts, and the bed was squeaking so much that you thought it was going to fall apart underneath you, but you were too far gone to care. He reached a hand down in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, circling it expertly. You were on the precipice of your release in seconds. And then —
“Come. Soak that fucking cock, baby. Come for me.”
And you screamed loud enough to get both you and him kicked out of the motel if they cared enough as your orgasm ripped through you. He fucked you through it, his pace only faltering moments later, right before he pulled out and painted your stomach white. It looked like a Jackson Pollock on your abdomen. Kinda hot, actually.
“You okay?” Dean asked, looking down at you as he finally caught his breath.
“More than,” you smiled.
He mirrored the look on your face before crawling off the bed and heading to the bathroom. He came back moments later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning his masterpiece off of your skin. When he was done, he threw it across the room, aiming for the bathroom, and it landed on the tile in front of the toilet. He laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you wanted to ask so many questions, all at once. What were you two now? How long had he been wanting this? Would there be a next time? Instead, you opted for —
“You know in fanfictions, they write you as a submissive most of the time.”
He snorted. “They’re half right.”
“A switch?” you asked, surprised. “Lucky me.”
He chuckled softly. “Sorry about your ass.”
You shrugged. “I was asking for it.”
“Oh, you were definitely asking for it. Still, I… I dunno. It was your first time, I didn’t want to get too —”
“It was perfect, Dean.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded, smiling, dozing off already. “Yeah.”
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Eyes on you. (18+)
Pairings: Soulless!SamWinchester X Reader
Rating: 18+
Summary: Sam has been… off lately. But that’s to be expected from a man who just came back from hell, right?
Word count: 5.9k
Tags: Soulless Sam Winchester x reader, hunting with Sam and Dean, Soulless Sam, Sam Winchester smut, dubcon(?) , PiV, no protection (wrap it up kids), creampie, breath play, choking, pinning, fingering, degradation, rough, dom sam, Dean mentioned but not involved, dacryphilia, reader has female anatomy, no use of y/n
Notes: wooo! sorry for the long hiatus, school has been fucking me missionary. anyway, starting off Kinktober strong with dubcon
Requests are open.
There was something terribly wrong with Sam.
You knew it from the moment he got back. Hell, everyone knew it.
Though of course when these concerns were raised to Dean, he, in his self-imposed naïveté, ignored it.
But you knew he felt it too.
During the few times you’ve tagged along on the brothers hunts these last few months, you’ve picked up on a few things. The way Dean would hold eye contact with Sam for only thirty seconds at a time, never a moment longer. Or how he would shift away from his own brother if he got too close. It was subtle. But you knew.
You couldn’t blame Dean for wanting to pretend everything was all right. Sam was his brother after all. And after everything they'd been through, if you were in his position, you'd do the same. You've only known the boys for some odd years now, and still you find yourself from time to time, pretending that the sweet, bookish, too-tall-for-his-own-good Sam you met is the same thing that came out of hell.
That is how you would survive this hunt.
You’ve always wondered how humans could feel someone's eyes on them. Since becoming a hunter that sense has sharpened.
You tear your gaze away from the view out of the backseat of the Impala and lock eyes with Sam in the rearview mirror. His once soft gaze was now stoic and calculating.
He looks away.
You linger.
You couldn't help but have the feeling that, in fact, there was nothing wrong with Sam at all.
This simply wasn't Sam. This was just some creature doing a poor emulation of him.
Without realizing, your hand had slid down your leg to the lifted fabric in the side of your boot. Your fingertips grazed the hilt of your dagger.
Correction, this is how you’d survive this hunt.
—-
When you finally arrived at the dilapidated manor, Dean was first to survey the scene.
“Alright.” He said in his usual gruff voice, clasping his hands together. “We got alotta ground to cover so, ladies first, take your pick.” Dean said, gesturing to you.
You were hoping Sam would pick first so that at the very least, you could choose the place furthest from the shiver down your spine.
“I’ll take upstairs,” you said. That feeling again, eyes on you.
Dean nods. You spin on your heels and race up the winding staircase without waiting to hear what each chose.
—-
Mildew and rotting wood lace the air. It’s a shame really, you thought. You face the expansive landing before you, pausing as your calf muscles burn from climbing the stairs two at a time.
High ceilings, eleven feet at least. Tall windows with dusty wine curtains spilling onto the floor shielding the amber of the setting sun. Most of the furniture was missing –evidence of squatters and raids– what remained was broken and covered in suspicious stains, much like what was left of the deep brown hardwood flooring. The most noticeable part of the room was the wallpaper, a rich red with delicate Chrysanthemums scattered across it, almost looking hand-painted on.
The wooden boards groan beneath your feet, causing you to question if they threatened to give out. You had a job to do, so you trudge down the dark hall.
Around 10 minutes pass and you knew no more information than when you first walked in. Not too long after you first got upstairs, you heard the ghostly moan of the front door shutting – one of the boys had opted to search the grounds. Meanwhile you tore through almost a dozen rooms only to find phallic graffiti and more rotting wood.
It was dark through the house now, the setting sun long gone, leaving you in the cold, dim space. The only light provided was the one functional bulb of the broken chandelier above- set to perpetually swing until its last chain broke.
The actual goal of this job was rather vague. All you knew was a bunch of kids had narrowly escaped death after a night of pure dumbassery in this house. So now here you were, swiping your EMF reader abstractly through the air and as Dean so eloquently put it, “keepin’ your eyes peeled for anything ghost-y or weird.”
Yeah, real helpful.
So you continue on down the hall with only a few rooms left to search. Then, something sounds from ahead.
Creeeeeak
You stalk toward the sound.
Nothing.
Creeeeeak.
The sound seems to come from behind this time. That feeling again, eyes on you.
You whip your head around. “Who's there!” You shout, your confident voice a stark contrast to the pit hanging in your stomach.
This time you manage to catch a glimpse of something slipping around the corner. You steel yourself, pocket the EMF reader, pull your dagger from your boot and start toward the creature.
You walk out into the landing, your steps cautious and dagger ready. Your eyes roll through the room. It was as if the creature had disappeared.
Creeeeak.
Or maybe not.
“That's cute.” It chuckles.
The voice was low and terrible, sending shivers down your spine
Yet still, it was almost familiar.
It elicited this hair raising feeling you can only imagine is similar to what homosapien felt looking at neanderthal.
“Come on out!” you shout, voice beginning to waver.
“That little kitchen knife you have, it's cute.”
Your stomach drops. Gears begin to turn in your head.
“But y’know, It doesn't matter how good you are with it.”
Sam, the real Sam, had been trying for years to get you to use a gun. But you had your knives and were good with them no doubt, so what was the point? He would always return your refusals with that crooked smile and pleas of how it “would make him feel so much better.”
Creeeeak.
The hall, it had to be coming from there. You force yourself to move.
“If your opponent is faster.”
Creeeeak.
No it was from behind, you were sure of it.
You spin on your heels and race toward the landing once more.
“Sam, come out. This isn't fucking funny!”
Just as you turn the corner, one strong hand seizes both of your wrists in a single swift motion. In an instant you're slammed up against something hard. The knife drops from your hands. Sam kicks it away. You open your eyes.
Chrysanthemums.
Fuck.
Sam leans down, his hot breath brushing against your neck. “Should’ve let me teach you how to shoot.”
There's a pause, the moment breathing and the air pulsing.
“Sam...” You exhale finally. Your voice comes out smaller than you would’ve liked.
“You’re too easily overpowered.” he raises his head for his lips to meet your ear. “Didn’t take much for me to get you like this; to hunt you down.” Sam’s grip tightens on your wrists.
His voice was low and gravely. You fought back against your aching lungs' desire to quicken their pace.
“That's what you’re calling this?” You remark. “Hunting me down?”
You had to play this smart.
There was a small knife, pocket sized, really, concealed just past the waistband of your jeans. With your hands to your back, if you could maneuver your fingers just right-
“Well I did, didn't I?” He squeezes your wrists once more, sending pain shooting down your arm and causing your fingers to splay out.
“Okay!” You gasp. “You've proved your point!” You say through gritted teeth.
Your index and middle finger slip past the waistband.
His grip loosens and he pulls away. You exhale. The tip of the handle brushes against your fingertip. So close.
Then, Sam jerks your wrists downward, your chance of escape literally slips between your fingers.
“I don't think I have.”
He looks down on you, this you can see from the corner of your eye. The rest, you feel.
His gaze is mechanical, inspecting, taking in and processing data. Some synapse fire causes his lips to tug upward in a smirk.
“Fuck.”
His long fingers tuck into the waist of your jeans.
“What are you-” You jut your hips in a desperate attempt to move free. Sam silently presses his knee against the back of your own, stopping all movement. There was no anger in his motions, annoyance at best. You let out a ragged breath.
He pulls the blade out, slowly and deliberately.
“Sam.”
He ignores your plea. Sam drags the knife from you, taking great care to ensure that the blade runs along your spine and that the tip drags up the hem of your shirt.
A shiver of a different kind rolls through your every vertebrae.
He brings the dagger to your chin, forcing you to look up. Sam all but closes the gap between the two of you, the point of his nose ghosting against your cheek. The warmth of his body swarms around you; the rotting wood smell drowned out by his deep woodsy scent. For a small singular blip of a moment you allow yourself to believe that this thing that looked and smelled like Sam, was truly Sam.
“Scream.”
But this isn't Sam, you knew that.
His voice quickly serves to pull you from your sanctity.
“What?” You breathe, looking at him from the corner of your eye.
“You could’ve, by now. Dean would hear too, and you know that- you’re not stupid.”
“I-” You stammer. He was right. The thought had played in the back of your mind but some louder part of you, the part that hadn't been next to a warm body in months objected.
“So why don’t you?” Sam continues, his voice like velvet sending vibrations rippling across your skin.
“Go on, scream.”
Nothing.
He smirks.
Sam drops the knife. There goes your lifeline.
His lips meet your jaw in a hungry kiss. You let out an involuntary groan. His teeth clash against the bone, threatening to leave a mark.
Maybe this wasn't Sam, but it still looked like him, still felt like him, and still touched like him. Maybe pretending couldn't hurt.
He continues down your neck, every hot, open-mouthed kiss causing another groan to escape you. Deep down you felt some gross shame; the fraction of yourself that hasn't succumbed to the wants of your flesh racking against your ribcage. All at once his teeth clamp down on your shoulder. “Agh.”
Yeah pretending couldn’t hurt. But good god did you hope it would.
You hiss, sucking in a breath and trying to pull away.
“Tell me to stop.” Sam breaths in between rough kisses.
He flattens himself against you, the strain in his jeans pressing into your ass. Against better judgment, you let out a sweet moan and you feel the bulge in his pants grow. This was wrong, so so wrong. There was something off about Sam, you shouldn’t be sleeping with him.
“Sto-hmfg” You’re cut off by the sounds of your own pleasure as Sam sucks on the part of your neck he had just bit. The juxtaposition of pleasure and pain confuses your mind and body. Heat spreads between your thighs and your mind swirls.
Knowing and feeling something are two entirely different things. Sure, in your head you could protest the current situation. You could attempt to be as logical as you wanted, but that didn’t change the aching desire within you.
“One word and I will.” Sam groans as he presses his hips into you.
The feeling of his hardness so close to your needy core ceases any rational thought you could’ve given.
He releases your bruised wrists. Finally, a moment to think properly. Without warning, his arm wraps around your waist, pinning your arms to your sides and pulling you away from the wall and into him. You were sure at this point that your cheek had a chrysanthemum imprint on it.
Sam looks down at you before him. So helpless and ready to be fucked dumb. He watches as you wince, your body in pain from the new position. His cock twitches.
You feel his muscles, strong and heaving against your back, his arm flexing as he holds you close. His free hand slides over to the collar of your shirt. His long fingers delicately trace your collar bones, staring down at them as if he wants to sink his teeth in. The air leaves your lungs. Goosebumps rise in the wake of his hands sliding down your torso, then sliding up your shirt. Oh how badly you wanted to cry out. To beg him to touch your needy pussy. But something told you he wouldn't oblige.
Sam watches your face intently. As hard as you tried not to give anything away, he could tell every single thing you were feeling. The light twitch of your eyebrow as he slid his hands up your shirt instead of down your pants sent satisfaction surging through him. He didn't have to feel you to know you were soaking wet. He slides his index and middle fingers under your bra and begins to massage the soft skin of your breasts. His thumbs hold your sides and his ring and pinky fingers dig into the gaps between your ribs. You were so much more fragile than he ever imagined. God, he can't wait to break you.
Small, soft moans pour out of you like music to his ears. His fingers pinch your nipples harshly, causing you to make a squeak-like whimper. You try to pull away from him in sudden shock at the pain but there was nowhere to run.
“Sam, please.” You whine.
“Please what?” He replies while rolling your now firm nipples between his fingers.
Your voice comes out small, pathetic, he thought. “Agh- it hurts.”
He pinches harder. “You can take it.”
Before you can protest, he returns to that sweet spot on your neck that he had bit earlier. He flicks his tongue across the bruise before kissing it again and again. Your head lolls and your mind goes blank.
Sam continues to pinch and twist your nipples, watching your face and relishing in the effect he has on you. Almost makes him wonder if you’ve ever been fucked right in your life.
All those nights he knew you were in the next motel room getting fucked by some idiot you met at a bar. Every morning he had to see you with your hair messy and makeup smudged. All those times he wished it was him who was making you moan, just for you to be squirming like a virgin right now?
Sam angles himself so that his bulge is pressed directly against your cunt. The friction makes you moan and he can't stop the spread of a smirk across his lips.
“Look what you did to me.” He breathes against your ear. “You’re such a slut.”
“N-no I'm not.” You gasp between moans. That wasn’t true. Sure you had a few one night stands but no more than either of the boys.
“Really?” Sam grins and for some reason that was so much worse than if he had outright called you a whore.
Shame overwhelms you.
He suddenly rips his hands from your tits. The sudden motion and lack of warmth makes you gasp.
Exactly what he wanted. Sam finds the button on your jeans and pops it free in an instant.
The room felt like a maelstrom of hot desire. You never imagined that you’d tolerate being called a slut, let alone dignify the accusation by trying to defend yourself against it, and you certainly, most definitely, never thought it'd be Sam making the accusation.
Sam roughly shoves his hand into your jeans and you feel your heart speed up, partiality in fear, partially in excitement. Sadly, he doesn't go another layer further. His fingers dance across the cotton of your panties, teasing.
“Not a slut?” He whispers in your ear. His fingers find your entrance and press against it. The soft fabric was warm and sticky, practically soaked with your arousal. You whine as his fingers threaten to enter, you were so embarrassed yet your body begged for more.
“Then why are you so wet, hm?” Sam didn’t have to say it, you both knew it as his fingers sent the message before his mouth did but still, but he received such a deep satisfaction seeing your cheeks flush at his words.
You weren't going to dignify him with a response.
Sam’s middle and ring finger press against your entrance once more. You attempt to keep your face straight as you internally curse the fabric separating him and your pleasure.
“Such a fucking slut.”
At this, Your pussy clenches around the tips of his fingers.
You feel Sam's chest vibrate against your back as a wry laugh echoes through him. “You like that?”
You set your gaze on your shoes, biting back words.
He grabs your jaw and forces you to look up at him. “Answer me, slut.”
Your pussy pathetically clenches around him again. You release your bottom lip, red with blood circulation. “Y–Yes.” You didn’t have to respond, but for some reason you wanted to see his face as you said it. To know if he was as turned on as you were.
Sam rewards you with a mocking smile. “Wow… who knew you were such a dirty whore.”
Before you could even think of a response, Sam finds your clit. The second he touches you, you feel your mind begin to go blank, your mouth falls open with only a whimper to show for the last of your coherent thoughts. Even through your panties, his touch was electric
His lips find that beautifully bruised sweet spot on your shoulder and pepper it with kisses. His hand drops from your neck, leaving your head to loll as you shudder with breathy moans.
The fabric of your panties was now throughly saturated as it slid across your folds. You grind against Sam’s hand, desperate for more friction. You tried so hard not to give in but it was clear at this point you had lost. Sam takes in the sight: your lips fallen apart in gasping moans, your eyes fluttering shut and brows knitted. The curvature of your neck, your head thrown back like a dead girl and your hips pathetically rocking back and forth, too proud to beg.
“You want more, baby?” Sam asks, amusement evident in his tone.
You bite down on your bottom lip, clinging to the last bits of your dignity.
All those nights he had to hear your headboard banging against the wall you weren't so reserved.
“Fine then.” Stoically, Sam simply begins to pull away.
Without thinking, your hand shoots out and grabs his wrist. You look up at him, eyes glazed over with lust and boring into his skull. “Please.”
Now that is what he liked to see. He wets his lips as he looks over your face.
“Good girl.”
You weren't quite sure what took over you and you don't know if you hated yourself for it or were thankful. Regardless, you begin to lead his hand back toward your jeans. Suddenly, he stops.
Celertitly, Sam turns you around and pins you back to the wall. If he was going to have you, it would be wholly and completely. He was going to ravage you and tear you apart at the seams.
He undresses you like an autopsy, delicately peeling away layer after layer. His thumbs hook into your pants and he squats as he slides them down. His fingers trace the rim of your panties before he slowly pulls them down your legs. Sam looks up at you: thighs pressed together and hands balled at your sides. While your body language conveyed a certain conservative nature, your teeth sunken into your red bottom lip and eyes staring straight down at him anticipating his next move told a different story. It was almost funny the way you tried to remain taciturn, as if you hadn’t just proved a thousand times over what a slut you are.
Sam’s large hands practically engulf your hips as he takes hold. For a moment he considers licking your cunt, but then again, it would be so much more fun to see you squirm beneath him. He rises to his feet, fingers digging into your flesh as he uses you as leverage, lips ghosting against your torso. His narrowed eyes never leave you for a moment.
You search Sam’s eyes for anything familiar, anything that would make you feel less awful about this. While his eyes still contained that stunning hazel hue, there was no emotion behind them. Lust, sure. Before you could thoroughly discern your emotions, you feel Sam pulling up your shirt.
“Wait.” You say, pushing the fabric down. “Dean… He’s just outside. What if he comes up?”
“So?” Sam asks flatly. He tries to pull off your shirt again, but you stop him.
“So? I won’t have time to get dressed. I’d rather your brother not se-“
His lips press against yours as though he were starved. Fastest way to get you to shut the fuck up.
Your mind and every thought in it slips out like a gust of wind. He pulls away only for a quick moment. “Guess we’ll have to be quick then, hm?” He breathes. You nod dumbly, lips puffy and saliva coating them. With that he forcibly rips off your top and tosses it to the ground. Finally, he thought.
Your bra ends up on the ground as well.
Sam roughly grabs you by the hair and pulls you back into the kiss. Of all the times you’ve imagined being with Sam, not once did you think it would be like this, unfeeling, and rough. But if you could pretend, that would make it all okay.
And so you did. You let your mind go blank and only focus on the pleasure ‘real’ Sam was giving you.
Your hands slide up his shoulders and rest on the nape of his neck. You moan as you sink into the kiss and as Sam's long fingers come to circle your clit and you don’t bother to maintain a shred of composure.
He breaks the kiss, panting, forehead pressed against yours and looks down at your body, and all the bruises on you. All of the ways he’s marked and claimed you caused a low growl to ripple through his chest. Sam pulls his fingers from your pussy and you have half a mind to grab his wrist again. He watches as your slick stretches and runs down his fingers. You pretend that his thoughts and words were something more of love than lust.
“Fuck.” “Beautiful.” He says in a breathy murmur.
As Sam's fingers prod at the entrance of your puffy cunt, you cringe at the lewd squelching noise that ensues. He looks up from his work to watch your face. It was so satisfying to see you like this, so needy and pathetic. At once, his fingers sink deep inside you. You moan, his fingers leaving you so full. You hardly have a moment to gather your thoughts before he's thrusting in and out of you, a satisfied look on his face at watching you unravel.
Every single moan you make is loud, drawn, out and practically pornographic and in all honesty, you couldn't care less. He pulls you in via a rough grip on your hair and smashes his lips against yours. You let yourself believe the kiss was more fervent than greedy. His tongue, much like his fingers, treats the inside of your body more like an exploration or experiment — trying to figure out what makes you tick. Sam runs his tongue along the inside of your teeth and at the same time you feel him grinning against your lips. Suddenly you can’t get enough air in your lungs, his fingers curl and press right against your g-spot. You tear yourself away from him in a gasping moan, your palms flat against his muscular chest as your world spins.
“mfgh- fuck, S-Sammy,” You cry.
And just as soon as he started, he stopped.
“What did you call me?” Sam pulls away, his eyes narrowed and dark. It doesn’t matter if his touch was ever loving, the lack of it now leaves you feeling cold and embarrassed.
“Samm-“
Sam’s lips curl into a frown. You stop speaking.
It seems everyone— including you, wanted little ‘Sammy’ back. It didn’t matter that he was right there, they missed that weak part of him still burning in hell.
Slowly but promptly, his hand creeps up your collarbone and wraps around your throat. He sets his jaw and it hits you— what you felt around Sam before this, it wasn’t fear, something more than discomfort but far less than being afraid; this however, this was fear.
As it seems, you’ve gotten yourself too lost in pretending.
“Sammy,” he says sharply in a voice you were unaware Sam was even capable of producing. “Is Dean’s dumbass little brother… Sammy jerked off to you every night but never had the balls to ask you out. Sammy is a little bitch. So, if you want me to fuck you dumb, it’s Sam.”
Speechless, you breathe a reply before your brain has a chance to catch up. “I- yes sir.”
“Yeah, that too.” Sam replies in a dark voice.
He squeezes your throat, not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know that he could if he wanted to.
And for some goddamned reason, it turns you on.
Pretending never does quite work, does it?
It was wrong, you thought as Sam’s hand dropped from your throat. Even after what just happened, you felt yourself growing hotter at the image that wormed its way into your head. Sam’s nimble fingers wrapped around his cock, chest heaving as he stoked himself. Instead of returning to you, he began to undo his belt. Sam’s pumps growing jagged and needy as he brought himself closer. He starts to pull down his pants and boxers, a bit of hasty anger in his movements. Sam’s eyes wrenching shut, or perhaps rolling back. Breathless repetitions of your name floating in the air. Thick globs of revering white emulsion spilling over his fist out of the very same cock before you. You gasp as he enters.
Sam’s cock feels as though it’s ripping you apart. His length and girth are far more than you’ve ever taken and by the looks of it, he's never had something quite like you either.
“Fffuck you’re tight.” He groans, fingers digging into your ass as he thrusts in and out. He wishes he didn’t have to worry about these damn clothes, he could've made you cum on his tongue by now if it weren't for the damn pants around your ankles. He also wishes he didn't have to worry about time constraints, he could've given you several short orgasms by now instead of aiming for a single earth-shattering one.. Honestly, he couldn’t give less of a shit if Dean saw the two of you, but you probably wouldn't sleep with him again if that happened and he was planning to use your tight little pussy this entire weekend. Hell, he might ‘accidentaly’ fuck up the hunt so you would have to stay in town longer.
“So good for me baby.” Sam says in a groan. His eyes remain locked on your expression and your tits bouncing with every thrust. Your warm cunt fits around him so nicely. He didn't have to, and he knew you surely couldn't take it but he loved to see you gasp and squirm– so pretty beneath him, every time he bottomed out.
“Mnghh, wa-agh!” You whine, high pitched and pleading. You press your palms against his chest, hoping to send the message of telling him to slow down as your mouth has been rendered absolutely useless save for whimpers and moans. Maybe he didn’t understand, or maybe it was that he didn’t want to, in the end, Sam continued fucking you with reckless abandon.
Tears began to prickle in the corners of your eyes. “Sam- agh s’too.. mmuch.” You sobbed.
“Shh, you’re taking me so well,” Sam coos. He cups your jaw in a surprisingly tenderder fashion and wipes your streaming tears with his thumb. You wince.
He has always wondered how you liked it. How you really liked it, every dirty fantasy you had in the dead of night and every deleted search.
“H-mgh, h-hurts.” You squeak out as he rams into you once more.
Now, it was glaringly obvious. With a hint of genuine curiosity in his eyes, he wraps a hand around your throat once more and then, he squeezes.
Of course Sam has choked a girl in bed before, but choking you was especially euphoric. The slight hint of fear in your eyes was enough to make him cum right now.
You felt suddenly very aware of your body. The pain on your shoulder and down your finger-dug in arms and hips. Your drooping eyelids, tears down your chin, the thoughtless moans spilling out of you as you unthinkingly tipped your head back, exposing your throat to give Sam a better grip.
Every breath gave a slight resistance you couldn’t help but want. Fog filled your head until you were left with a one point perspective of Sam. It hurt so good. Your arms lazily drape over his shoulders and you find yourself begging for more of him; your hips rock in tandem with this thrusts and through moans, a single word falls from your lips.
“Harder.”
Sam quickly obliges, his pelvis meets yours with every thrust and his tip touches your cervix. You throw your head back in a shuddering moan and feel yourself losing oxygen.
He couldn’t believe he didn’t realize sooner what a pain slut you were. Your pussy begins to tighten around his cock in uneven flutters. First your fingers, curling into Sam’s hair. Then your chest, shallow breaths growing shallower. Your legs follow soon after, the muscles tensing and feeling as though they could give away at any moment. Finally your abdomen, growing taut by the second. Your brows press together as your mouth falls open.
“S-ssoo close.” You slur.
“Hold it baby, just a little more.” Sam groans. His breath filled in the hot inch of space between your bodies. His thrusts became shorter but more rapid, his heart following suit. He clenches his teeth. Fuck, you looked pretty with his hand around your throat but damn if he didn’t need to cum inside your cunt.
Tears begin streaming down your cheeks as you try to hold back the waves of pleasure ripping through you. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Sam stops choking you and turns all his attention on your pussy. Your moans come out in pathetic cries, your body feeling wet and mushy but tense and begging for release all at the same time. Your head was a mess too jumbled to decipher and all you wanted was to cum.
“Ssam.. please.” You cry as he pounds into you like a rag doll.
“So needy.” He teases back in a ragged breath. “You can do it. Be a good slut and hold it.”
Just as you go to beg he meets your yes in a stern glare. “Do not fucking cum until I say so.”
You give a reluctant nod.
And just then, you hear a door shut.
Shit.
With wide eyes, you snap out of your trance.
Sam on the other hand, didn’t plan on stopping.
His hand quickly flies up to your mouth and his body completely presses yours to the wall.
“Not a sound.” He whispers against your ear.
As hard as you try to fight it, you find yourself slipping back. This time, with each thrust you slide up the chrysanthemum wall and he could feel your heart beating against his chest
Sam’s cock twitches inside of you. He moves his hand and replaces it with his lips, trapping you in a sloppy kiss while he lifts your legs, bringing your knees to almost wrap around his hips. He palms your ass while his forearms support your thighs and his elbows your knees. Damn these clothes. Though still, at this angle he could get so much deeper and bring himself so much closer.
White hot pleasure surges through his every synapse.
“Guys! Where are you?” Dean calls from downstairs and damn if the adrenaline rush from that didn’t turn you on.
Sam feels you clench around his cock and he groans into your mouth.
“Almost there.” Sam whispers. You were too out of it to reply.
“Need- mgh.. to.” You whisper. A tingling sensation has taken over your whole body, starting at your core and spreading outward. You felt like a ticking time bomb and just when you felt you were about to explode.
“Cum.”
With that you let go. You feel Sam’s hand slide between your and his lips as your orgasm rolls through you. His head falls forward and rests against the wall as he shudders through an orgasm of his own. The tingling feeling turns your muscles to jello but Sam does his best to keep you in his grasp.
“No hits outside.” Dean calls.
The only sound that mattered to either of you though were each other's dark trembling exhales, yours leaving through your nostrils and onto his knuckles and Sam’s through his parted lips and onto your bare shoulder.
Small twitches and spurts from Sam’s length persist inside of you as he reaches the last of his orgasm. Meanwhile your entrance flutters as you recover from your ecstasy. Your heart pounded in your ears and you were left in a high.
“…The hell? If you two got taken by a ghost or some shit I swear.” Dean grumbles. And then his footsteps start toward the stairs. Fuck.
Sam though, he takes his sweet time letting you down.
Creeaak, Groans one step.
Sam begins to pull out, forcing you to watch his cock glistens with your wetness and his cum seeps out of you.
Creeeak.
You were unsteady on your feet but managed to pull your pants and panties up.
Creeeak.
Shit, where’s your bra?
“Guys!” Dean yells, his voice closer than ever. His footsteps pick up the pace.
He reaches the top of the stairs to find Sam inspecting his EMF reader and you, placing a dagger back in your boot, fully dressed.
“Oh hey, Dean.” Sam says with a casualness that left you feeling that if his cum were not leaking out of you right now, you would question if anything had actually happened.
“What the hell? Damn near gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry,” Sam shrugs. “Thought we found something.”
“Uh huh.” Dean replies, unconvinced. He glances at you, then back to Sam, and then to you again. “So, you find anything?”
“No.” You say without meeting his eyes. You frown and pretend to check out some of the grafiti.
“Right.” Dean says.
You give him a small nod and quickly slip behind him and down the stairs.
Once he hears the front door shut, Dean turns to Sam with a quirked brow.
Sam looks up from the EMF reader and at Dean cooley. “Maybe there’s an attic or a back room we haven’t found?”
“Seriously? Don’t you think it’s a little messed up?”
“No, tons of old houses have cellars and hidden rooms.”
“Oh cut the bullshit, Sam.” Dean raises your pocket knife Sam hadn’t realized he picked up. He’s known you long enough to know where you stash your amo. “She doesn’t know, does she?” He frowns.
His poker face falters and returns to a room-temperature smugness. “Is that what this is about? Me not having a soul?” Sam steps forward. “Or are you just mad that I fucked her first?”
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Little one
Sam Winchester x reader
Words: about 3.9k words
Warnings: smut, smut, I forgot to say smut, DESTIEL BECAUSE I LOVE THEM, dirty talk
Author’s note: Hi loves! I finally managed to write some more after the crazy week I had. Hope you like it, your witch Becky
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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023
DAY 5: Size kink
"Hey little one do you need a hand?" You hear Sam ask, hearing in his tone of voice that silly little sly smile you hate so much. You huff as still with your back turned you don't even turn to look at him, knowing you couldn't help but melt under the gaze of his green eyes. You feel him coming up behind you, his chest brushing against your back as you see his hand reach for the book you've been reaching for for more than ten minutes. His presence behind you almost makes your knees give way.
The two of you have been playing this game for weeks now, provoking the other but at the same time neither of you seems to have the courage to take matters into their own hands and drag the other into your bedroom. A few days ago Sam realized how sensitive you are to the size difference between the two of you. You have never considered yourself short, you have always been average, but next to him you look little more than a smurf. He is literally a giant, and that doesn't mean he is merely tall, but because of the life you lead he has developed a lot of muscles in his arms and chest, as well as perfect abs, and that makes him imposing, and fuck if that isn't attractive. You get lost in thinking what it must be like to be under him, enclosed between his warm body and his bed, but almost immediately you are interrupted by a cough behind you. You turn and see him with a raised eyebrow looking at you amused. Now the two of you are face to face, or rather you have your face at his chest level, and in fact you have to look up to stare into his eyes.
The man in front of you seems to be quite amused by this, in fact he leans forward a little, thinking you would move for that movement, and instead you stand still, not showing weakness.
"Careful little one your neck will hurt if you keep holding it like that. Maybe we should buy a stepladder at least you'd be able to look me in the eye without any trouble." Says Sam, a breath away from your lips.
"You giant asshole, I swear I'll cut your balls off if-" You start to threaten him, but you are interrupted by a new voice. Castiel has just entered the room and is looking at you with a questioning expression before shouting.
"Dean they are doing it again." He says to the other hunter who immediately responds to the angel, threatening you as well.
"Home run before you see things you don't want to see. And you two stop circling around the fact that you want to fuck. There's too much sexual tension in the air and no one can take it anymore. You better find a solution or I swear I'll have the next witch I meet charm you." Says the brother of the man in front of you, from the kitchen, making both you and Sammy blush.
"Fuck you Dean." Sam manages to say, not looking you in the eye. Immediately you turn away from each other, going in different directions.
You arrive in your room, close the door, and lean against it as you take a breath of relief.
You can't deny that there is not that sexual tension between the two of you that Dean accuses you of, but at the same time you don't have the courage to take that extra step for fear of being rejected because treacherously you think Sam intends all that as a kind of game between the two of you, but nothing more. You stay for a moment thinking again about the feeling of his body so big and muscular against yours. You felt so small and helpless, and yet you were not afraid, in fact all your brain could process were rather spicy situations with the youngest of the Winchesters. Then suddenly you violently detach yourself from the door, as your mind was again training itself in those overly specific thoughts of what it would be like to be fucked by Sam, placed on all fours on his bed, while he on top of you, with his chest pressed against your back, holding the bed keyboard with one strong hand to make stronger, firmer thrusts. You get lost in thinking about what it must feel like to have his kisses on your bare back with the light beard he has, what one of his strong hands gripping one of your hips must feel like, or his cock pushing in. You decide it's time for a cold shower at the very moment you're left thinking about whether the size of his member is directly proportional to everything else, hoping that at least that might bring you back to your senses a little.
You've never been much of a person who likes to go to parties, but you certainly can't say no to a nice evening with your favorite people spent drinking and singing your favorite songs. By now it is very late and both Dean and Cas have gone to bed, no matter how much the last one doesn't sleep, but by now since they had declared themselves to each other they had created a routine, thanks to which the oldest of the Winchesters is finally able to sleep without nightmares. You are happy forni your friends, they both deserve the small portion of happiness that fate has reserved for them, and on the contrary you wish they had fi more. Since they've gone to bed, though, you and Sam are left alone, with more than ample amount of alcohol in your system, which is a bit dangerous considering the thoughts some days that led you to take a shower so cold that even penguins would beat their beaks for cold.
You and young Winchester spent those days avoiding each other, and when you couldn't, all you could do was avoid each other's gaze and not blush.
You remain silent again, enjoying that peace to which you are not very accustomed. You are sitting side by side, and you can't help but slowly move closer to his body, attracted by the warmth it produces.
It seems like hours go by, and maybe it's only a few minutes, but eventually he interrupts that state of stillness.
"Can I ask you a question?" Sammy asks, turning toward you, and you can't help but be a little annoyed by his question, but you nod as you down some more alcohol. He seems to consider what words to use.
"Have you ever thought of anything more than this between us?" The man asks, looking you in the eye. You pause with your glass in midair, petrified by that question. For a moment it crosses your mind that he has figured out how you feel about him, but then you look at him and see him waiting for your answer and realize that he is really only asking you out of pure curiosity.
"Why did you think of that?" You ask in turn defensively. You see him hesitate for a moment as you did a few seconds earlier, but eventually he flashes you a smile, regaining all the resourcefulness he has shown in this last period.
"Oh little one, I'm afraid I'd scare you if I told you all the things I've been thinking about doing with you." He says in a rough, sensual voice, and you immediately feel a shiver go down your spine. You feel him move closer to you, while you remain still, afraid that if you moved even a finger, this whole situation would vanish like a soap bubble. You think more than once that all this is a dream produced by the alcohol in your system, then you feel his lips on your neck and realize that it is all true.
"Well you could show me a couple of things you've imagined doing with me, and I'll tell you if they're the same things I've thought of." I say in a whisper, as he continues to nibble on my neck, leaving sweet kisses at times.
"You're going to fucking kill me sooner or later." Sam comments before standing up, and with a smooth, quick movement, hoisting me onto his shoulder. I let out a soft yelp, before starting to bombard him with threats and questions.
"Sam Winchester, let me go now! Where are you taking me?" I ask, trying not to give away that just that simple gesture that showcased his strength and how much bigger he was physically than you was turning you on.
"In the room, unless you want to be fucked here where anyone could walk in at any moment. I didn't take you for that kind of person, but we could always try it another time." He says chuckling, while you in response punch him lightly in the back. "Besides, from here I have a first-class view of your ass." He continues nonchalantly, and you can't help but blush.
"Sam!" You take him back, but he immediately doesn't give you time to continue.
"Little one, don't be an angel, because we both know how many times you've thought about doing dirty things with me, and you can't even lie because it was all over your face." Notices Sam, scolding you as one scolds a child who has eaten too much candy.
"Like you had a marble mask on, and you couldn't see all the times you looked at my boobs." You comment, as you try to figure out by now where you are, but the corridors of the bunker are all dark and you can't quite get your bearings.
"It's not my fault you have particularly nice tits." He replies, as if it were a given, and you can't help but laugh at the situation. Your laughter is interrupted, however, when Sam throws you onto what you recognize to be his bed.
The playful air that had been created disappears in an instant and gives way to a new tension, steeped in passion and mischief. The youngest Winchester slides all the way down your body until his plump lips are inches from yours. The feel of his body, so large compared to yours, is even better than you had imagined. He spends a few seconds teasing you, kissing all over your face and the area near your mouth, but he doesn't touch your lips a single time, until you slip your hands into his hair and force him to do so. He smiles against your lips, and when you pull away to get some air, he teases you.
"Someone is a little impatient, what can't you wait to feel my cock inside you anymore?" He asks rhetorically, while his hands begin working to remove the several layers of clothes you are wearing.
"All promises Winchester, it's time to keep them." You say, trying to answer him again in kind as pleasure begins to work its way through you.
"You'll regret this shamelessness little one, another time, not today, but next time I won't be as good to you as I will be this time."
Quickly he removes the few clothes you have on while you do the same to him, a little groggy from pleasure and a little from alcohol.
He kisses your neck, leaving red, biting marks as he slowly moves down to your breasts, to remove the bra you still have on. He takes one of your nipples in his teeth, while the other teases it with his hand.
Once he is done torturing your breasts, he goes down to your navel with his kisses and then gently bites your panties. A shiver runs through you again as you feel his lips graze the skin of your legs, while he stares into your eyes and pulls them off with such slowness that you feel faint before long at how hard your heart is beating.
"You better get moving Winchester." You try to threaten him, once he completely peels off the penultimate layer of clothing that stood between you and him, since he still has his boxers on.
"Or what small thing? I don't think you're in a position to threaten me." He comments amused, before returning to your center, and leaving sweet kisses all around in your inner thigh. You can't help but sigh as you slip a hand into his soft, long hair, trying to take him where you most desire.
"Fuck you." That's all you can say in response, and he can't help but laugh. Eventually Sam lets you guide him where you want him, and finally his lips meet those of your pussy. You can't help but let out a moan mixed with a scream as the man squeezes your clit between his teeth as he had done with your nipples earlier. With his tongue he continues to lick you, slowly increasing the pleasure.
Suasult when you also feel his fingers join in the torture, as he rhythmically works them into you. His fingers are long and big, enough to reach all the right places, and make you wriggle between the covers of the now unmade bed, making you clutch the sheet so tight you thought it would tear.
Eventually, faster than it had ever happened to you, you feel the orgasm coming, with the impetuosity of a wave ready to sweep whatever it meets in its path.
"Sam- fuck- please don't stop." You beg him, as you continue to move your hips under his mouth to create more friction.
"Oh my little one is cumming?" He asks, pulling away from you slightly.
"Sam, please." You beg him again as you run a hand through his hair again, and he can't help but moan as you do so.
He doesn't respond to you, but his actions speak for themselves as he again begins to lick your center as he speeds his fingers entering your pussy. A few minutes pass and you finally reach orgasm, and for a second you think you lose contact with the whole world. All you hear in your ears is blood pulsing, your eyes narrowed as your lips hold back a scream, while your hands continue to cling tightly to Sam's hair. Once you regain your breath and some clarity you stop and look at Sammy who is now looking at you seriously. Around your mouth you can still see the remnants of the otherworldly experience you just had.
"Are you okay?" He asks you as he licks his lips.
"Never felt better." You answer, as you signal for him to come up. He complies and comes with his face at the same height as yours. You kiss him softly, and he can't help but do the same. It is very different from the kiss you shared earlier, passionate and impetuous, but no less sensual and beautiful. Then suddenly you take him by surprise and reverse the situation by finding yourself on top of him.
"Now it's my turn to torture you a little." You whisper in his ear before moving down to his boxers. You slip them off him the same way he took off your underwear, which is with your teeth, and you hear him cursing as you brush against his now very obvious erection. Then unable to hold back you take his member with your hands, and like everything in your body it seems to be huge compared to you, but in this case you don't really know if it is your point of view or is objective. You tease his entire length with your tongue, before starting to suck lightly at the tip, while moving your hand along everything else you don't touch. Immediately his hand, almost as big as your head, gets stuck in your hair and begins to send you further and further down, at the pace he likes best. That's how Sam begins to fuck your mouth, at first slower, going steadily increasing, so that the last thrusts you feel his cock coming down your throat, and you can't help but get aroused when you feel the air miss you. He continues this game for a few minutes, until with a series of moans where he screams your name he doesn't cum in your mouth, and you swallow everything he gives you.
"That's my girl." Sammy comments as he catches his breath, but you see a spark in his eyes that tells you you're not even close to the end.
"So far we've been playing, now comes the main course." He continues, as again he reverses the situation, bringing you under him. You feel one of your thighs open, and with his knee he stimulates your pussy. Immediately you let out a scream that he silences with his lips. You begin to kiss more and more passionately as you feel him driving his cock in front of your entrance. The moment he is about to push in for the first time, you stop him by asking him a question?
"Are you sure it fits?" You ask slightly frightened by his size, and excited at the same time. He looks at you and chuckles a little, throwing his head into the crook of your neck.
"It's just that I've never had anyone so ...great, it's no laughing matter Winchester!" You continue, chuckling in turn. He kisses you gently on the nose before answering you.
"I promise in case it does you, you'll just have to tell me and we'll stop right away, okay?" He asks seriously, watching you as he moves a strand of hair away from your face. "Besides, I think the orgasm has prepared you well honey." He finishes by winking at you. He kisses you again but this one more gently, trying to distract you. You feel him enter you, and for a moment you think you have died and are in your own little piece of heaven.
"Are you okay little one?" Sam asks seeing your closed eyes and clenched fists holding the pillow.
"Oh God, Winchester you better move your ass and fuck me before I come at this exact moment." You whisper, as you release one hand to bring him to you and kiss him. You feel him begin to thrust in and out of you, picking up a rather fast pace as he stimulates one of your breasts with one hand and his lips are busy making more marks on your neck, lest he cry out your name in pleasure. You are not much better off, so much so that at one point you feel an iron taste of blood in your mouth from how much you bit your lips to keep Cas and Dean from hearing you. You keep moving in unison, seeking pure pleasure.
"God baby, you are so perfect. You don't know how much I've dreamed of having you under me, screaming my name, rocking your world." Sam comments, before kissing one of your breasts. "I love your body, so small compared to mine, so much that I'm afraid I'll break you every time I touch you, but at the same time so sinful that I can't stop myself from doing the worst sins they ever came up with even in hell."
You fail to respond too caught up in everything the boy is making you feel. You feel like it's the first time in years you've breathed again, the first time you've really tasted oxygen.
"Sam, please, I'm going to-" You are interrupted by a kiss from him.
"Me too baby." He replies after pulling away from your lips. "Your pussy is squeezing my cock so hard, I think I'm about to go crazy." He comments, and it seems that his words are the keys to reach again that already before, only with his fingers had you tasted, but that was but a paltry appetizer, this was of the magnitude of a wedding feast. Your whole body quivers with force, as your center, in pleasure, tightens even tighter around his size, making you feel the size of his member even more.
Just as Sam's words were for you, for him it seems that your orgasm triggers his, in fact when you finally seem to have regained some mental clarity, after spending several minutes with your mind clouded, drowsy with pleasure, you feel your womb being filled with his seed, and you have another orgasm, smaller than before, but still quite important.
It is some time before both of you have caught your breath, in each other's arms. You remain in silence enjoying the warmth of the naked body of the person you love by your side. Then without saying a word Sam moves to your side and encircles you with his arms, having spread a blanket over your uncovered bodies. You fall asleep within minutes, with a smile on your lips, both of you happy to be close to the one you love, and especially happy to know that the one you love loves you back.
BONUS (I can't help it, I love bonuses too much :) )
Dean sits at the kitchen table as Cas hands him a steaming cup of coffee. He thanks him with a whisper before sipping his drink in silence. The only noise in the room is that of the liquid slipping over his lips as the two lovers stare into the void, lost in their own thoughts. Eventually it is the angel who breaks the silence.
"We need to soundproof the rooms better." He comments, and Dean can make no more than a sound of approval. They had not slept a wink because of your shouting, and as happy as they were to know that now the tension between the two of you had been cleared up, they also did not want to hear how their nephew was created, since his brother and you had not made much effort to be quiet. And this was not the first time. Since you had come out to each other now almost a month ago, every night you had done nothing but shout each other's names in pleasure, so much so that often both Dean and Cas had decided to go for a drive, but they couldn't take it anymore.
"You're damn right." Dean says before taking another sip of coffee. "You know I almost preferred it when they hadn't come out, now I'm afraid to turn the corner and watch them procreate on the library table." Dean comments amused, finishing his drink as he sees his boyfriend shoot him a look and a smile.
"As if we never did." Cas says, laughing.
"But they don't know that." Dean replies, giving him a wink, then getting up and leaving a gentle kiss on his forehead and heading out of the room, obviously checking to make sure you are not in it.
TAGLIST
@laurennnomg @deanwinchestersgirl87 @samanddeansannoyingsis @ash04w3 @l3viathanpup @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @wafflezo @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @shodowbane09 @acidicpickle @supernatural-lvr
#hauntedwitch04's writing#kinktober 2023#sam winchester x plus size reader#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester#sam winchester smut#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x reader smut#supernatural x reader#dean x castiel
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Quiet sister, concerned brothers
Dean and Sam Winchester x little sister!reader
Summery: Dean and Sam Winchester have a 15 year old half sister who often feels neglected and overlooked by her brothers. Her sadness and loneliness build up until she can no longer hide her feelings.
Trigger warning: way to much use of Y/N, emotional neglect
Word count: 1.5k words
A/N: I used a different perspective this time. Please please let me know which one you prefer so I know what to continue with! Thanks.
The creaky old bunker was silent, a rare occurrence given the nature of it's inhabitants. Y/N sat on her bed, the flickering light from a nearby lamp casting long shadows on the walls. She hugged her knees tight to her chest, feeling the weight of another day spend in the background.
Sam and Dean, her older brothers, had been on a hunt all day. She texted them but unsurprisingly received no answer from any of them. They returned the next day around noon with stories about demons and near-death experiences, hardly acknowledging her presence as they recounted their tiring adventures.
Y/N was used to this. As long as she can remember, she had been the quiet, shy girl who stayed in the shadows while her brothers were always the center of attention.
She loved them dearly, of course she did. They have raised her, they gave her a family. Something she never new before them. But the constant feeling of being forgotten gnawed at her heart. She knew they didn't mean to emotionally neglect her, it was just how things were. Sam and Dean are hunters and she is just…. there
….
A week later they were on the road again, driving to a small town in Nebraska where strange disappearances had been reported. Y/N joined them this time. She felt as if she is going to suffocate if she stayed in that bunker for any longer.
She sat in the back of the Impala with her head resting against the cold window. The low rumble of the engine was almost comforting, a familiar sound in her otherwise tumultuous life.
Dean glanced at her in the rear-view mirror, a frown creasing his forehead. "You okay back there kid?"
Y/N forced a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Sam turned around in his seat, giving her a concerned look. "You sure? You've been pretty quiet lately. More than usual. You barely talk to us." "Yeah I'm fine, just tired", she lied, hoping they would drop the subject. She didn't want to burden them with her feelings. They had enough to worry about.
Dean just shrugged and turned up the music, and Sam went back to his research. Both of them just believing her lie for now. None of them had the energy to deal with it at the moment.
Y/N closed her eyes, trying to push away the sadness that threatened to overwhelm her.
The hunt went relatively well. Sure it could have gone way better but it's not the worst one they've had so far. Turns out the disappearances were caused by a little groupe of vampires. Fortunately for them it was easy to track them down to an abandoned warehouse. The killing part was a bit more tricky though.
Y/N helped out a lot this time. She was quite proud of herself for that. Thought that Sam and Dean would be impressed but did they even acknowledge her hard work? absolutely not.
"You did good kid but you could definitely improve your skills with the machete and you also need to work more on your stamina you are way to slow." Those are the first words she hear from Dean as they walk back to the car. Of course it hurts. She tried so hard to make them acknowledge her skills but apparently all they see is her weakness or simply nothing at all.
Sam doesn't confirm Dean's criticism but he also doesn't defend his sister in any way. The walk back to the car is just silent and tense. A feeling Y/N is simply sick of.
It doesn't get any better in the car so all she does is put her headphones in to listen to music to drown her loud bad thoughts and her brother's voices.
....
The next time they went on a hunt didn't go differently. Y/N was allowed to join again. She even tried to show of her great skills against the witch they had to fight but once again it went mostly unnoticed by the two brothers. The only thing that stuck with them was how slow she moved and how much she apparently hesitated when shooting the witch.
She kept quiet for the whole ride back to the bunker. What was she supposed to say anyway.
Back at the bunker Dean is the first one to break the silence between the siblings. "Hey kiddo remind me to teach you how to use a gun properly. You suck a little at that" He said as he went to grab a beer. His words were meant in a playful way but for Y/N it's enough to set her off completely.
"Can't you just stop with that?!" Sam and Dean both turn to look at her with a confused frown. "Stop with what?" Dean asks bewildered.
"With t-this! I just can't listen to you constantly telling me that I am not good enough. Every time I do something good you find something bad to say. Both of you just completely ignored the fact that I killed the witch on the hunt today all that was important to you was to tell me I suck at shooting! And when you don't criticize everything I do, you just don't talk to me. I simply get ignored. That's not fair!"
Y/N stopped once she ran out of breath but she was not anywhere near done letting everything out
"Y/N what-" Sam immediately gets interrupted by his sister. "No! I'm done. I'm done with hunting. I am done doing anything in my power to make you acknowledge my hard work for nothing and I am done with seeking your validation and attention at all times!"
None of the brothers get a chance to say anything because the second the girl is done she storms off to her room. Not that they knew what to say anyway.
The silence that follows is a tense one. Both brothers are at loss for words. Her speech was something none of them expected to hear. "Should we go check up on her? That was pretty intense"
But Sam shakes his head at Dean's suggestion. "No, we should let her cool off for a bit. I'll check up on her later"
....
Dean can't help but think about every interaction he had with his sister after every hunt and he unfortunately has to admit to himself that what Y/N said was true. The guilt is more than visible on his face it seems as if he is drowning in it. Sam isn't feeling any better. He is trying his best to no stand up and rush into his sisters bedroom and apologize for everything he and his brother said to her to make her feel as if she was not good enough.
He is holding that urge back fairly well but the moment he heard loud crying from her room he decides he is done with waiting and giving her space. He just needs to see if she is alright and fix this.
He walks up towards the door of your bedroom and softly knocks on it. "Hey...do you mind if we talk for a moment? I just want to make sure you're okay" Sam waits for a couple seconds which feels like minutes to him. But he receives no answer from the girl on the other side of the door. So he tries again but yet he gets no answer this time either.
Sam knows her silence is answer enough and turns around to leave. Not even two steps later he hears the door opening and his little sister's sad sniffles. He turns towards her and the mere sight of his sibling standing there with red rimmed eyes and a tired expression, was enough to break his heart into many pieces. Especially because he knows he is at fault.
"We can talk if you want" Her voice sounds raspy and her words come out quiet. A big indicator that she has been crying for a long time.
Sam simply nods and follows her into her room. Both sit down on the bed. Y/N looks towards her hands and keeps her gaze fixated on that.
"I wanted to apologize for making you feel as if you are not good enough. That was really not alright. You are great kid. You help us out so much. Doesn't matter if it's with research, or hunting or just helping around the bunker. Dean and I appreciate it. We appreciate you"
Y/N scoffs which slightly takes her older brother by surprise. "Well none of you know how to show that said appreciation"
Sam sighs since he knows she is right. "I know we don't but I really mean it when I say that we do care and do acknowledge your help and hard work. Even when we tell you about the thing you could improve. I also know how harsh Dean's words must have sounded to you and he feels bad. He really does."
The teenaged girl stays silent for a moment before finally nodding. "I forgive you. But I still want to take a little break from hunting. I'll help with research, sure but that's all. It's just too much right now" Sam agrees with you. "Sure that's fine. I understand, kid. And so will Dean"
Y/N looks up from her fidgeting fingers and turns her head towards her brother while wiping her tears. "Thank you Sam"
"Don't thank me, sweetheart. Please" Another silence follows after Sam's words. Yet this time it's not tense or heavy. It's comforting.
#dean winchester x sister!reader#sam winchester x sister!reader#supernatural#the winchester brothers#hurt/comfort#slight angst#x sister!reader#female reader
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Headcanon: Teasing him under the table.
Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
AN: This was requested by this lovely anon:
Could you please write an imagine or something of all three boys (Dean: love the plus-sized one-shots; Ben from BMD: love your interpretation of The Boys; and Beau) - and how would they react to their girlfriends giving them a footsie? 👀
I'm interpreting this as a "playing footsie" moment lol.
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Flirting, innuendo, and some smuttiness. (You know Ben. 🙄)
Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Ben would react to you teasing him under the table.
Dean Winchester
Because of the request, I had the Espresso-verse version of Dean and the reader in mind, but this can be general Dean x Reader too.
Dean is playful by nature. (AKA: a professional flirt.)
He enjoys working you up, but he enjoys it even more when you're confident enough to tease him back...even if it somehow always surprises him.
But he's been driving you crazy all damn day. Throughout the whole damn hunt.
Flirty smiles, suggestive quips masked as "innocent" remarks, brief touches to your arm, the small of your back, guiding you by your hip, a thumb swiping under your shirt and against your skin, lightly pressing into your curves...
It's all "normal," except for the deeper, suggestively teasing glint in his eyes.
He's in a good mood, and he wants you to know it.
And it's all in front of Sam, who knows the game you two are playing. Sometimes he smiles in both amusement and fondness, and he looks away to allow you guys your moment. Sometimes he rolls his eyes, or just tries to ignore it when he's had enough of you two eye-fucking in plain sight.
Dean knows what his touch does to you, but you know one or two of his weaknesses too...
When the hunt is finally over, the three of you find the closest diner to the motel you're staying at.
Dean orders the greasiest burger you've ever seen. He also teases Sam for already looking for the next case with his laptop at the table.
Dean glances over, his lips starting to curve as he licks a bit of burger juice off his fingers. He looks at you dead in the eyes while he sucks his digits clean.
He's equal parts noisy and disgusting. But damn him, your hand tightens around your glass of water. Your lips press together, and so do your legs. You nudge his foot with your boot and raise your brows. Stop it.
He pouts, and he nudges your foot right back. Make me.
You tilt your head at him. Adopting a certain smile, you slide your foot across the floor, under the table, and graze his calf with the side of your boot.
Dean's lips twitch. Sam is seemingly oblivious as he continues researching on his laptop.
Your foot travels higher up Dean's leg, up the inside of his thigh. You only gasp a little when he suddenly reaches down and grabs your ankle. His resulting smirk is salacious, even as he challenges you with his eyes. What're you gonna do now?
You contemplate exactly that, when his brother's voice startles you.
"Can you guys do me a favor and quit it?" Sam asks. He doesn't even look up from his laptop. "At least wait until we get home."
You bite your lip and blush. Both you and Dean fight harder smiles at being caught.
"No one likes a killjoy, Sammy," Dean remarks. Sam just sends his brother a dry look.
Dean's amusement remains. He taps on your ankle in contemplation, but after a moment, he lets you go. He grabs his phone and texts you under the table.
"Quickie out back?"
You grimace, then you text him back.
"Gross, babe. There are things I promised myself I'd never do in a public bathroom."
"So...meet you in 5? Come on, I'll do that thing you like. 😈"
His stupid grin, his stupid face, his long fingers tapping on the tabletop (somehow, even that is suggestive). It all eventually breaks you down.
"...Ugh, fine," you reply. You slide out of your chair first. But as you walk past him, you let your fingers brush down his neck — in a way that always makes a little shiver run down his spine. You smirk in satisfaction as you walk away.
He might've started it, but you could damn well finish it.
Beau Arlen
Oh, my dear cowboy sheriff...
Beau is also a jokester. He takes his work and the people in his life seriously, but he likes to keep things "loose." Perhaps it's a coping mechanism, but it's mostly just his way of going through life.
Tonight, however, is a tense dinner with your parents, Beau, Emily, and his parents that are visiting from Houston.
It's a nice steakhouse, more high scale than you or Beau are used to, but your parents insisted on it. Beau's parents are good-natured and full of southern charm. They're just happy to see their son and granddaughter, let alone meet his girlfriend for the first time.
The night is only tense because, as much as you love your parents, they're not sure about you dating a man with such a dangerous job.
They also have a thing about appearances, and the fact that he's divorced and has a child who isn't yours, and frankly, all the things you don't give a rat's ass about.
Your back is ramrod straight in your chair (there's a tightness in your spine that comes every time your mom taps you on the hand with her fork to remind you not to slouch).
You can't even really taste what you're eating, because you're too focused on making sure your parents don't say anything insulting to Beau and his family.
Then a boot taps against your open-toed heel. You glance over at your boyfriend, and he's already wearing a smile. He gives you a teasing wink as he eats a forkful of mashed potatoes.
Your stress begins to melt, just like that. God, this man.
You smile back at him and take a calming sip of wine. Your mom begins to talk about her upcoming tupperware party. Your smile deepens, but not because of that.
You playfully tap your foot on Beau's without looking at him.
You feel his discreet stare on the side of your face, but you pretend to be invested in your mom's conversation about tupperware. (I mean really, I thought those parties went extinct. Apparently, not in the Midwest.)
Beau's foot nudges yours back. You hook your toes under the hem of his pant leg, inching it up and up...
He retaliates with a hand drifting down your thigh, over the skirt of your dress. He grabs just above your knee and squeezes. Your leg jerks up on reflex, and your knee hits under the table hard enough to rattle the silverware, making you yelp.
The whole table looks over at you in both surprise and concern. (Your mother more in disapproval.)
Beau bites his lip against a deeper smile.
"You okay there, baby?" he asks.
"Sorry, my foot slipped," you lie through a tight smile. When you turn to him, your eyes narrow a fraction, promising retribution. You grab his hand tightly, but he just uses the motion to bring yours up to his lips.
Beau looks forward to whatever you plan to dish out next, as long as you wait until after dessert.
Soldier Boy (Ben)
Aw hell, this guy. 😂 I'm imagining BMD-verse Ben for this one...
Ben has a decent sense of humor, but he doesn't often like to be teased.
He'd rather be respected.
But you love to tease him anyway.
You also know his "limits," but it doesn't stop you from figuratively tap dancing all over them when you have the opportunity. You're slowly but surely trying to get him to loosen up.
Sometimes though, it bites you in the ass.
Like tonight, when you've gotten him to come with you to a Broadway show. You two have your own private booth on the second floor balcony. (He likes the privacy, and it's safer for you, as he's argued.)
20 minutes in, and you can already tell he's gotten bored. To be fair, it's a drama that's admittedly a bit dry and slow. You don't want him to walk out before the intermission, so you start to hatch an idea...
Your legs are crossed, and you draw your high-heel slowly against the side of his foot. When he glances over you, you pretend to be invested in the show. Your arms are crossed over your black dress that falls to mid-thigh. Your jacket is draped across your lap.
You brush the thin point of your heel across the top of his shoe, then inch it up under his pant leg, higher and higher.
Until Ben's hand finally grabs hold of your knee. Biting your lip, you turn to him with a smile.
"Do you mind? I'm watching the show," you tell him. He allows you to peel his hand of your leg and place it back in his lap. You cross your legs in the opposite direction.
Ben raises his brows. His lips twitch slightly, but he seems to acquiesce, relaxing back in his seat.
For a while, you actually watch the play. You become invested in the story and the characters by the time it gets halfway through Act 1.
That's when you feel a strong hand slowly slip down your thigh and between your legs, slowly rucking up the skirt of your dress.
You try to stifle a gasp as you look over at Ben. He doesn't meet your hot stare, but his hand is certainly on the move, covered by your jacket. He brushes against your panties.
Against your better judgment, you let him spread your legs wider. A smile finally crosses his face. His fingers hook around your underwear and brush between your folds. You let out a shaky breath and shift in your seat.
You know you should stop him, but you can't help the warm coil of arousal starting pool in your lower belly, and between your legs. Ben feels it with a smirk. His fingers find your clit with ease.
"Ben," you gasp, warning him in a heated whisper.
He leans over and presses a raspy kiss to your neck, thanks to his beard.
"Perks of a private room," he says. His voice is a low rumble in your ear.
You start to shake your head. You know you started this, but you also know him. This has the potential to go off the rails very quickly.
"This isn't a room. We're on a damn balcony," you breathe out, even as his fingers continue to work you over. You bite your lip to stifle a moan. "Anyone could—"
"Who gives a fuck?" Ben says gruffly.
As usual, his raunchy brand of logic (and his talented hands) manage to persuade you to give in.
AN: lol I had fun with this one. Let me know what you think! 💜
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#Teasing him under the table#How Dean Beau and Soldier Boy/Ben react#dean winchester#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x female reader#dean winchester x you#beau arlen x reader#beau arlen#beau arlen x you#beau arlen imagine#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#soldier boy/ben#soldier boy#soldier boy imagine#supernatural#spn#big sky#the boys#Midnight Espresso-verse#break me down-verse#dean winchester x latina!reader#dean winchester x plus size!reader#dean winchester x plus sized!reader#dean winchester fanfiction#jensen ackles characters#jensen ackles#soldier boy fanfiction#zepskies writes
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Unveiled Sorrows (Part 1)
Dean Winchester X Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader (platonic)
Word count: 3k
Other Characters : Sam Winchester, John Winchester.
Warnings : spoilers for s1-5, heavy angst, canon violence, foul language, implied smut.
A/n: This series follows canon plot line but some scenes might happen differently or be completely changed. Check the warnings for each part before continuing.
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.
Bad luck follows the Winchesters like the plague, they can't seem to outrun it. If someone asked Y/n to describe who the Winchesters were to her, she'd only have one word to say. Family. She wouldn't mind having bad luck on her tail if it meant staying with her family. Besides even if they can't seem to outrun it, they always fought it. And they always kicked ass.
Y/n was a solo hunter, a badass one at that, she never believed in partnering up with other hunters, because every hunter has a different motive and motives change. She's never trusted a hunter and she never would but that all changed a few years back when she met the Winchesters.
Now, typically one would think she'd dropped her guard because its 'The Winchesters' but she didn't. It was far from that. She met the two brothers when they were looking for their father. She told them to not waste their breaths since the man didn't want to be found. The two boys were curious as to how she knew about their father. She told them that she knew the man enough to know his intentions and that is, he didn't want to be found. The boys were intrigued by her and asked her to join them, help them find their father.
"I don't chase dead ends boys nor do I trust hunters."
That was the last thing she said before she walked out on them. The next time they met was in Manning, Colorado, Y/n was hunting the same vampire nest that the Winchesters were.
“I see you found daddy dearest.” Y/n said leaning against the Impala after they cleaned out the nest.
"I see you've met my boys, Y/n." John smiled.
"Yeah well they've been all over the place looking for you, kinda hard to miss." She smirked. Dean chuckled at her comment.
"You're a great hunter." Sam commented, a small smile gracing his lips. She nodded her head and she raised her beer bottle towards him.
"Alright, now my works done here so I'll be heading out." She said. "Later boys."
"Wait." Y/n turned to the owner of the voice. "I need your help."
"Did I hear it correctly? John Winchester asking for help I must've gotten hit pretty hard." She laughed. "What is it?"
"I need you to stay with them. We need all the help we could get." John said. "You're one of the best I know." Dean's brows furrowed at that, his dad complementing someone is big.
"And what makes you think I'd stay and help? I don't trust hunters. As if you didn't know that already. John." She gritted her teeth.
"I know but it's out there and you know it." John said knowingly. His sons looked back and forth between their father and the young girl.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Y/n." She knew what he was talking about, the yellow eyed demon. The one that killed her parents when she was a baby. The fire in the nursery when she was exactly six months old. Just like Sam. The Winchesters are obsessed with the yellow eyed demon and they wouldn't stop at nothing to kill that thing.
"It has nothing to do with me." It was the second time she walked away from them.
The yellow eyed demon killed her parents, she had been chasing the demon for years, it's what that made her the great hunter she is, that's how she met John in the first place but now she knew getting revenge wouldn't bring her parents back, it wouldn't bring her peace either. She needs to move on and focus on whatever life she has left. It may sound weird for a twenty two year old girl but that's how she thought.
But as if it was destiny. Y/n watched a truck crash into the same Impala she leaned on a few days back. She jumped out of her own car before calling 911.
"Damn it you boys." She slammed the car door as she got back in her car and followed the ambulance back to the hospital.
After John died, she decided she'd stick around Sam and Dean considering it their father's last wish. And the rest was history. If you'd ask her she wouldn't be able to tell when Sam Winchester became her best friend in the whole world. It might've been the fact that they share the same trauma or maybe that Sam compensated for Dean being a dick. Dean didn't like Y/n joining them, he didn't hate her per se, but he hated the fact that his father asked her to help them rather than telling them what he knew. They butted heads alot, both being stubborn and filled to brim with trust issues. They had a hard time around each. It took a while but they warmed up to each other.
Now for Y/n, the Winchester Brothers are her family. To them it's her. They've never hesitated to kill for one another and wouldn't hesitate to die either.
Sam and Y/n were deeply troubled when Dean started acting strange after a run in with a Djinn. Sam tried to coax it out of Dean but he remained unsuccessful.
"Hey, you." Y/n sat beside Dean as he tinkered with the Impala. He turned to look at her. "Mind telling me what's going on up there?" She gestured towards his head.
Dean froze for a second. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell her what the Djinn showed him. How was he supposed to tell her he saw her being his wife, them living the white picket fence life. The life he so desperately wanted yet couldn't have. She wouldn't understand. Nobody could. Even he couldn't understand why he saw her. Dean didn't love, as in committing in relationships. Dean loved, as in I would die for you but I'd never tell you that I love you.
"Nothing sweetheart, Its nothing." He smiled like he usually does. Y/n knew better than to push him. So she walked away.
The trio hunted down all sorts of supernatural beings. They stuck through everything together. Y/n was there when Dean stupidly made a deal to bring back Sam, she was there when the doors of Hell opened. She stuck by Sam when Dean was dragged to Hell. She even went up to the crossroads to sell her soul in exchange of Dean's. Clearly she was refused. When Dean came back from Hell, Sam and Y/n welcomed him back with open arms.
Everything was awful. It sucked but alteast they were in this together. They had each other and that's what all they needed. Y/n was there when they found out Dean broke the first seal in Hell and she was there when Sam broke the last. Y/n was there for the Winchesters when the apocalypse hit and she had hoped they would be together when it ends. They had been trough Hell and back together, literally, and she hoped her family would be by her side. But little did she know.
Dean hasn't been the same ever since he came back from Hell. Everyone noticed. He hadn't been sleeping, he kept drinking. He kept telling everyone that he doesn't remember what happened down in the pit. But he does, and little does he know, Y/n knew too. She could see it on his face that something is eating him away but she knew Dean, and she knew it would be a waste to ask because he wouldn't tell. She'd hear him scream at night, waking up from nightmares, she'd watch him drink himself to self to sleep only to be woken up by the nightmares, again.
The trio had turns sharing rooms while being on hunts, with whatever money they had they could only afford one room but when they could get two, they would. Y/n always shared with one of the boys since they don't want to risk her safety, clearly knowing she can handle herself but it helps them sleep at night.
"You know you can talk to me about anything right?" Y/n walked up to Dean as he poured himself another glass of whiskey.
"Sweetheart its 3am. What're you doing up late?" He ignored her comment.
"I could ask you the same thing." She shrugged.
"Its.." he started.
"Nothing." She finished for him. "I've heard it."
The two of them sat in silence as the clock ticked. Dean stood up from the the chair he was sitting on and made his way towards his bed. He dropped on it with a sigh.
"Dean." Y/n called out and he turned his face to look at her. "You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. It's not your responsibility." She said softly.
"Isn't it though?" He asked sitting up.
"It isn't." She said firmly.
"You don't even have half the idea...-"
"Then tell me. Tell me what's bothering you, tell me we can get through this together." Dean shook his head at her words. "Like we always do."
"I started a goddamn apocalypse Y/n, I don't think there's anyone else to blame. Sam may have broken the last seal but I broke the first one. I..." Tears gathered in his eyes which made Y/n scared, if it was bad enough to make Dean cry, it was bad. She made her way towards her bed and sat infront of him.
"I know you broke the first seal Dean. You keep saying so but you never tell us what is it."
"Dean."
"They offered me to....they said they'd take me off the rack if i did the torturing. Time works differently there than here, for you it was four months but there it was forty years. They'd cut me up to nothing and then I'd be whole again and it'd start all over again. I held on for thirty years. But then I broke. I agreed and i did. And the most fucked up part is that I enjoyed doing it."
"It's okay Dean." She went to sit beside him and held him close. "You tried you best, you held on for thirty years Dean." She held back her own tears. "It's not your fault. If anything, I should be blamed equally for letting Sam fall for Ruby's trap. I should've been careful."
"No you're wrong if only I hadn't been so weak, if only i didn't break." He shook his head. "It was the first seal, a righteous man shedding blood in hell. I broke the first seal." He cried. She held him close hoping she could make him realise that it wasn't his fault.
"Now the refusal makes sense." Y/n mumbled under her breath.
"What refusal?" Dean sat up and stared down at her.
"Nothing." She avoided looking at him.
"Y/n." He said calmly but his tone was stern. "Tell me." Y/n looked away completely as she stood and turned away so she didn't have to look at him. "For the love of God tell me Y/n don't test my patience."
"I went to the crossroads demons but they refused. They said they had you exactly where they wanted, I didn't why back then, but now it makes sense."
"You did what?" Dean yelled and grabbed her arm to make her look at him. "You tried to sell your soul?"
"Dean."
"Don't Dean me.!! God damn it." He yelled and Y/n wondered how the hell Sam didn't hear them for the thin motel walls.
"Yes i tried to sell my soul so what huh? You're not the only one who cares okay? I wouldn't have minded giving my soul to bring you back." She yelled back.
"You can't go around doing stupid shit like that." Dean exclaimed clearly on the verge of losing his mind.
"Why do you get to deci-..."
"Because I can't lose you." Dean snapped cutting her mid sentence. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer. He cupped her cheeks in his hands. "I can't lose you, sweetheart. I'd happily go back to hell if it means keeping you safe." He said resting his forehead on hers.
"Dean..."
"Please, promise me you won't pull another stunt like that. I can bear those scratches and cuts on you from hunts but this is where i draw the line."
"Dean this isn't fair." She cried.
"There's nothing fair in this life, sweetheart. I've got angels on my ass asking me to say yes to being another angel's bitch. Do you think that's fair?" He chuckled a bit. Y/n shook her head. "Cmon darling, I'm waiting on that promise."
"I promise I won't try to sell my soul. But that's it."
"I can work with that." Dean looked at her teary eyed face as she looked up at him. "If you keep looking at me like that, my resolve will break." He said huskily.
"What're you talking abo-.."
"I really can't take this anymore." Dean mumbled before smashing his lips against hers. He knew he shouldn't have done that, he blamed the alcohol in his system, he tried to pull away as soon his brain registered what he had done but she snaked her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.
His hands immediately went to her waist and picked her up. He gently laid her on one of the beds and hovered above her.
"Please stop me right now or I won't be able to." He murmured against her neck, as he placed soft kisses against her skin.
"I don't want you to." Y/n pulled him up for another kiss. She tugged at his tshirt which he gladly removed. Their clothes were thrown around haphazardly. The two of them continued to bask in pleasure and euphoria as the night progressed they ended up falling asleep in each others arms.
The sun shone through the window of the motel room. Dean had woken up from his slumber as he felt Y/n stir in her sleep. He looked at her sleeping figure and smile appeared on his face. The ringing of a phone made Y/n open her eyes.
"Good morning, sweetheart." Dean pecked her lips and grabbed his phone from the nightstand.
"Morning." She snuggled closer to him.
"Sammy." He answered the phone. "Yeah, uh huh... yeah no, she's still sleeping.." He waited for Sam to finish speaking. "Alright see ya."
"Remind me again, why're we here?" Y/n yawned sitting up, clutching the sheets to hear chest.
"Here as in my bed or here as in this town." Dean grinned as he pulled her into his chest. Leaving kisses on her neck.
"Dean.."
"Well Sammy thinks this girl killing another girl in a school bathroom is our kinda gig. He called to ask if you wanted to tag along to the mental hospital for interrogation i told him you're asleep."
"I see. Breakfast?" She turned to look at him.
"Sure sweetheart." He caressed her cheek. "Shower together? You know it'd save time." He smirked.
She rolled her eyes and went inside the bathroom but she didn't close the door. Dean understood and immediately joined her. To no one's surprise, they just showered together. Dean might've stolen a kiss here and there but that was it.
After shower the two of them got ready and met up with Sam. Y/n sat in the backseat of the Impala as they waited for Sam. As Sam told them what he found out Y/n spoke,
"I don't know if this is our thing Sammy, high schools can be brutal."
"You sound like Dean." Sam retorted.
"You're calling me dumb Sammy?" Y/n fake gasped.
"Sweetheart I'm offended!" Dean feigned hurt.
"Shut your trap you two. Im telling you she said she felt like she was possessed."
"Fine." Y/n groaned and they decided to check out the school.
Truman High School.
"Didn't you say you two went here for a while?" Y/n said as they walked down the hallway.
"A week." Dean replied.
"Reminiscing huh." Y/n teased nudging Sam with her shoulder and he rolled his eyes.
It did turn out be their kind of thing. First they found it was Sam's friend's spirit that was haunting the halls of the high school. After Salt and burning his bones they found out that Sam's friend's bully was messing around too.
"You just had to surround yourself with shitheads didn't you.!" Y/n exclaimed to Sam as they tried to find the piece of hair that kept Dirk's spirit connected to this world.
"I do keep you around so.." Sam shrugged with his famous bitch face making Dean laugh.
Dirks spirit appeared at and lunged at Y/n who was standing the gate of the bus. He grabbed her in a chokehold while she tried to elbow him. Sam immediately shot him with his shotgun making him disappear but he appeared again. He grabbed Y/n by the arm and threw her at the nearest tree, knocking her out cold.
While Sam tried to wrestle the spirit Dean found the hair, burning it making the ghost disappear.
"Y/n." The two boys rushed to her side and helped her up.
"Hey hey...sweetheart you hear me?." Dean patted her face.
"Im alright." She wheezed before sitting up. "Son of a bitch." She groaned. "Is he gone?"
"For good." Sam replied.
Tags:
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#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#dean x y/n#dean x you#spn fanfic#sam and dean#sam winchester#dean winchester smut#dean winchester angst#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester x reader angst#dean winchester x reader fluff#dean winchester x reader smut#spn angst#spn smut#supernatural x reader#supernatural fanfiction#jensen ackles#jensen ackles characters#unveiled sorrows#nini writes
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hi !! wincest fic idea :) cnc that turns into actual rape <3
tw: CNC, r4pe, inc3st
note: thought about writing this all day, thinking of furthering it some other day but this is what I came up with in about 30 minutes just now from the itch to write it <3 tell me what you think, would love your thoughts. (I am working on all other suggestions/prompts, dw you're not forgotten)
Sam's head was pushed down, air knocked out of his lungs as Dean's rough hands carded through his hair, fingers gripping in a tight hold to keep him there and yet he fought against the hold, desperately trying to climb up for air but his brother never let up.
"No-no, no, no-" He muffled into the pillow hand coming up to dig his nails into Dean's wrist who hissed in return, pulling him and pulling Sam's back to his chest.
"I told you I could've been more gentle if you were nicer, laying down like the whore you are. But no, no you want to fight back." His rough tone rang in Sam's ear and he was shoved down again, rough and mean.
He could hear the clink of the belt being taken off behind him, and it was like everything moved slowly, his hands clawing at the sheet as he attempted to move away but it was fruitless, truly. Dean was right behind, grabbing at the hands that tried their best to reach for freedom.
Sam may be bigger, taller but Dean was always stronger, able to round him up and move him how he pleased.
"Please, I'm sorry, please Dean, no-'' He cried out when his arm twisted behind his back. "No, please, I don't want to, Please-" the belt fastened around his wrist, tight enough to burn from the rough drag and dig of leather in his skin. And then Dean's hands were back onto him, rough and calloused as it pushed his front into the bed, other hand going to Sam's pants buttons, opening with haste, so easy - like Sam was free access to begin with.
And Dean treated him like that, pulling down his pants and boxers mid-thigh and he was exposed. It was embarrassing how his cock was red and throbbing between his legs, it was embarrassing how he whined when the cold air rushed to him.
He was reacting so well - like a true whore, Dean had thought as he took the disappointingly average cock in hand, giving a few dry jerks just to hear his little brother cry, leg kick out. He was always too sensitive for his own good. But good god did it make Dean twitch in his own boxers.
Sam could kick and cry out all he wanted but he enjoyed this, he wanted it. It was their little game after all. Big mean older brother Dean taking advantage of his little brother Sam who wouldn't want to hurt Dean too much to even properly protect himself. He was just Dean's baby, his toy. Always was and always will be.
So it wasn't surprising when Sam's tip began to leak when Dean dragged his nails down Sam's back, watching the red marks leave in their absence. Maybe it was wrong, the things it did to him when he saw it.
Dean pushed down his own pants and underwear just enough to slip out his cock, his slowly moved his hand from the middle of Sam's his ass, and just as he reached his ass, pulling his cheek to the side enough to get him a view of his hole, and that really got Sam to start a kicking mess again. And just as the first kick went out, little "no's" coming from his lips, Dean's hand landed harshly against the skin of ass, a red blooming under his palm and skin heating up.
But he didn't stop at one, he did it again, and again until all Sam was cry a couple of tears and finally stopped fighting against him, shaking legs giving up the hell they were raising.
Sam could feel the ache of his ass and it made his cock pulse, so close to the edge. But the pain wasn't over, a few little "no, no's" passed his lips before there was the feeling of a wet and blunt tip against his hole and he gasped, legs seizing - he was frozen, and scared and Dean was pushing in, liquid hot fire flooded his veins as the ache ran up his spine the further he forced his way in.
It wasn't right, something was wrong- it was never like this before, he couldn't explain it but he couldn't speak, the hands tied behind his back were tapping against Dean's abdomen, in the three tap pattern Dean swore he'd notice and stop at - that the play was over. Sam was gasping desperately for the little air he had to fill his lungs because he just couldn't breathe.
Dean was pulling out, and Sam waited and waited for the coo's and care that was to come but it didn't - "Awe, you're bleeding baby." he pushed back in and again and again - he wasn't stopping, not like he promised.
The pain was too much, like a never ending fire. Sam fought against the restraint, pulling desperately at them to get his hands free, to crawl and fight away. But the belt simply rubbed his wrist raw and he sobbed an honest sob. His throat was raw from it alone, dry and sore. He cried out for his brother, wanting his aid and not his pain.
"-hurt's, it hurts, hurt's, Dean, angh-" The air rushed out of him just as it had come. He couldn't remember what he was meant to say, couldn't remember the safe word.
Why didn't he stop when he tapped? Why did he keep going?
He tried tapping again, pressing against Dean's abdomen as it came again and again. Impaling him so deep it was all he could feel, all he could think about - about how much it hurt. How wrong, wrong, wrong it was. His thighs were shaking and they were aching. The only thing keeping them up was the death grip of Dean's hands on his hips.
Sam feverishly shook his head in the pillow, tears falling one after the other.
But it was like Dean was too caught up in the way Sam wrapped around him, sucking him in further - tighter than usual and it was just too good to stop, not when the tears and panic of Sam's shaking added to the pleasure coursing through his veins.
He would take what he wanted, he always would and will. So that's what he was doing. One hand grabbing onto the belt of the restricted hands and going deeper, drilling in until he truly couldn't go any further, pulling him to meet his hips in each thrust to hear the guttural groan that fell from his baby brother's lips.
To say he was obsessed with Sam's ass was an understatement, he was addicted. The little sobs and babble of words fueled him on. Only he could do this to Sam, no one else could have him, make him into the mess he is. He owned Sam.
At some point, Sam's struggles and fighting began to cease, just laying limp. He had no fight left in him, choking on his own tears with groans climbing up his throat. There was never a spark of pleasure, it was like someone was ripping apart his insides. The zipper of Dean's jeans digging into his skin with every thrust, he wouldn't be surprised if he was bleeding from it alone. The raw rubbing of cloth against the back of his thighs was bordering painful.
He waited, waited after every thrust, every groan from Dean that he would stop, that this would be the last, that he would pull out and acknowledge him, apologize, anything, he'd accept anything if he would just stop.
But it didn't, it dragged for what felt like hours. He didn't even notice when Dean was done, filling him up raw with his cum, groaning "fuck" mindlessly as his hips stuttered inside of him. The white mess leaked out of him, mixing with the blood to create a pink as it dribbled down his thighs.
And he's never felt so numb, so used, so discarded as Dean simply pulled up his jeans like it was just another night. Like he didn't care.
But, like a kicked puppy, Sam called out for him in a rough and broken voice. "De-an."
After all, Dean was all he had. All he wanted. All he needed.
#wincest#sam and dean#samdean#sam/dean#samxdean#spn#tw dark content#dead dove do not eat#dead dove fic#tw noncon#cw incest
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Reunion
Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, Sam Winchester x little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: Dean goes to get Sam at college, but things come to a head when he tried to get you too.
“So, where is she?”
The first several minutes after leaving Stanford had been spent in silence, and Sam only broke it after realizing what was missing in the Impala.
“We’re getting her now.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Dean sighed. “Bobby’s.”
“Bobby’s?”
Dean avoided Sam’s searching gaze.
“Yeah.”
“You gonna tell me why she’s there and not with you?”
It was silent for several long minutes, and Sam was about to demand an explanation when Dean finally spoke.
“After you left, she kept begging to go and see you. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, and dad got pissed. After she…after she tried to sneak out to take a bus to you, dad dumped her at Bobby’s. That was about eight months ago, and dad hasn’t even mentioned her since.”
Sam gaped at his brother.
“You let that happen?”
Dean scoffed, “It’s not like I let dad do anything. Dad does what he does, and there was nothing I could do about it.” Dean continued to avoid Sam’s eyes. “Besides, she was safer with Bobby. She’d been asking questions about hunting that neither of us were willing to answer, and Bobby’s better at lying to her than I am.”
Despite John’s better judgment, he’d allowed Dean to raise you with no knowledge of the hunting world. You knew that Sam and Dean helped a lot of people, and you’d figured out that their job had something to do with crime—you’d realized that when you noticed how many of their cases came from reading the newspaper—but you didn’t know about monsters.
“Ok,” Sam did a horrible job of hiding his seething, but perhaps that was on purpose. “So why are we getting her now?”
Dean shrugged noncommittally.
“Well, you’re back, figured I’d make it a full reunion.”
“Right,” Sam scoffed. “And dad’s not here to stop you.”
Dean bit back a smile.
“Maybe that too.”
…
“She’s asleep,” Bobby stood with his arms crossed over his chest, blocking the staircase.
“We’re here to get her,” Dean matched his stance and his stubborn expression.
“You shoulda thought of that eight months ago.”
Sam ran a hand across his face, biting back a groan.
“Bobby, please, can we just-“
“Hush, Sam. My beef isn’t with you at the moment.”
“You can’t just keep us from-“
“I can do whatever I dang well please, Dean. She’s been with me for nearly a year, and she just unpacked her bags a few weeks ago. She kept expecting you idjits to come back and get her, but you never did.”
“Dad thought-“
“I don’t give a crap what John thought, you broke her heart. So if you’re gonna take her and raise her proper, then I’ll let you. But if you’re gonna uproot her again, only to drop her back with me the next time she starts asking questions, then it’d be better if she never saw you again.
“We’re not gonna ditch her,” Sam insisted.
“Well thanks for the input, but last I checked you were trying to leave this life behind, so your vote doesn’t count.”
“I’m not gonna leave her, Bobby.”
The conviction in Dean’s voice silenced him for a few seconds.
“And when John comes back?”
Dean shook his head, “She stays with me. No matter what he has to say about it.”
Bobby gave Dean a long, searching look. He’d never heard him openly defy John before, never even say a word against him. When the time came, would he really-
“Dean?”
Dean’s head shot up at the sound of your voice.
“Dean!” You bounded down the stairs, and when you reached the third step you leaped off, landing harshly into Dean’s arms. He staggered back a half step before steadying himself, laughing as he spun you around once before standing in place, lifting a hand to the back of your head as he held you in his arms.
Bobby watched the scene soberly for a moment, before a small smile lifted his lips. He’d gotten his answer. No one who saw the two of you right now could doubt the truth; you were Dean’s girl, and he wouldn’t abandon you.
“Hey baby,” Dean breathed.
“Are you staying?” You held your breath.
“Nope, but you’re coming with us,” Dean promised, finally setting you down.
“Really? I-“ You turned your head, spotting Sam for the first time, and you froze. “Sammy?”
He grinned, “Hey, kiddo.”
You ran into his arms.
“What are you doing here? Are you coming too?”
“Um,” Sam winced slightly, “For a little bit, yeah.”
Then you asked the question that the boys had been hoping to avoid for a bit longer.
“Where’s dad?”
“Honey,” Dean pulled you away from Sam and knelt so he could see you at eye level, placing a hand on your arm. “Dad…he hasn’t come home for a couple weeks. That’s why I got Sammy, we have to go look for him.”
You were silent for a moment.
“Is he ok?” You finally asked.
“We don’t know much right now, but we’re gonna find him, ok? I promise.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Ok.”
He sighed contentedly, and as he stood you wrapped your legs around his waist, too comfortable in his arms to let go yet.
“I missed you,” you whispered as though it was a special secret for only Dean’s ears.
Dean began to carry you up the stairs, brushing past Sam and Bobby.
Once Dean had reached your room at the top of the stairs, he leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.
“I missed you too,” he whispered back, before gently setting you down. “Pack up your stuff.”
Once you’d grabbed your few possessions and packed them in your backpack, you followed Dean down the stairs, stopping to hug Bobby goodbye.
“Take care of yourself, kiddo.”
You smiled, “You too, old man.”
Bobby scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“Go on, get. Ya idjit.”
Sam followed you out the door, but Bobby grabbed Dean’s arm before he could leave.
“You take care of that little girl, Dean. I know you look up to your dad, you should. But don’t you be like him. You be good to her.”
“I will, Bobby,” Dean clapped a hand on Bobby’s shoulder.
“I promise.”
#dean winchester#dean x you#dean x sister#dean and sam#dean x reader#dean winchester x sister!reader#dean winchester x you#sam and dean#dean winchester x reader#supernatural dean#sam winchester x you#supernatural sam#sam winchester x sister!reader#spn sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam x sister!reader#sam winchester#winchester x reader#the winchester brothers#the winchesters#winchester#john winchester#winchesters x sister#winchesters x reader#bobby singer
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Ballsy
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem reader
Summary: Your alter ego does something you always dreamed of but never had the balls to do. Let’s just say it leads to something great😈
Warnings: Shower sex, SMUT, NSFW 18+, slight breading, oral (female receiving), praise
____________________________________________
You grew up a hunter and crossed paths with Sam and Dean ages ago. Since you were around their age, you guys hit it off well and stayed in touch over the years. Soon after the boys had moved into the bunker, you did another hunt with them and mentioned you didn’t have a permanent home either and they graciously offered for you to stay with them! It’s now been 8 months of living with Sam and Dean. For the most part, it’s all great despite your hopeless crush on the eldest brother. You and Sam were best friends, and you and Dean had a weird, complicated friendship. You could never read him. Sometimes he would be flirty with you, giving you hope that something could happen, but then he would bring a girl home from the bar, breaking your heart a little more each time.
For the past two weeks, however, Dean has been extra flirty with you. He enjoyed making you blush and making inappropriate jokes at the worst times to embarrass you. This morning at breakfast, you sat across from Dean. While you both ate bacon, he kept watchful eyes on your every movement and when you’d make eye contact, he would wink at you or raise his eyebrows up and down. It made you giggle. You particularly loved when Dean was in a flirty mood, soaking up any and all attention from him before it would be gone.
You were pacing the floor in your room, thinking about the advice Charlie had given you.
“Just pretend you’re someone else and make a move.” Charlie said earlier in the week.
“I can’t do that, what if he doesn’t feel the same. It would ruin the whole dynamic. I’d have to move out and then go back to crappy motels and eat diner food all the time and-“ you rambled on.
“Y/N, please. Dean has had eyes for you for like… ever. Why else would he flirt with you like that? You can do it, just create an alternate version of yourself. She can have a new name and all the personality traits you want to have.” Charlie said.
“I don’t know, this feels kind of dumb”
“Just do it. Introduce yourself to me as the new you.”
“…um hi my name is-“
“Oh absolutely not, more confidence. Say it like you’re the queen of LARPing” Charlie states.
You clear your throat and try to push away any resistance that you normally would have. Right now you’re not Y/N, you’re Tessa; a smart, sexy, confident chick who goes and gets what she wants. You switch into this alter ego as best as you can and confidently say with some sultry in your voice, “Hi Charlie, I’m Tessa.”
“Much better. You got this, just go for it!”
I can do this. I just have to go for it. No fear. Well lots of fear, but fake it til you make it, right? Walking out of your room, you head for Dean’s bedroom. As you near the door, your heart races. The sound of the shower comes to your attention. “Oh shoot, of course once I muster up the courage to do this, he’s in the shower” you whisper to yourself, rolling your eyes. Then a thought crosses your mind. What would Tessa do? Walk right in there and take what she wants. Am I actually going to do this?
You open the door and enter Dean’s room, heart beating so loudly you were sure it was audible for the whole bunker to hear. You come to the bathroom door and knock so quietly that Dean doesn’t hear you. You take the opportunity to pause and get into character. You knock a second time, this time he hears you.
“Who is it?” Dean calls out behind the sound of water hitting the floor.
“It’s me” you shout back.
“Y/N? Are you okay?” Dean asks from behind the door.
“Can I come in?” You ask. Despite wanting to walk in there, you obviously want to ask for consent.
“I- I’m kind of showering” Dean says thrown off by your question.
“I know” You retort back, lacing your voice with undertones.
Dean blinks under the running water, realizing what’s going on. “Come on in, sweetheart” he says. You open the door, trying to not let your fear show on your face, but the second you see his naked body dripping wet under the water, you’re sure your face falters. Without saying a word, you start stripping off your clothes. Dean watches in shock of the sight in front of him. Once your clothes are nothing but a pile in the floor, you stand in front of each other, both breathing kind of heavy but not saying a word.
“Y/N, what are you doing?” Dean asks cautiously.
“Making a move” you say more confident that you thought possible with a smirk on your face. You slowly close the gap between the two of you. Deans eyes are dark with lust.
“Are you sure this is something you want?” He says, his voice much deeper than before. You nod your head as you look at him with your doe eyes.
“Words, sweetheart” he urges.
“Yes” you say breathless, now an inch away from him. With that confirmation, he quickly closes the gap between you two. The kiss was needy, but soft however quickly grew hungry for more. Stepping more into the shower, the warm water runs down your back and Dean starts to push you back against the wall, lifting your leg to his hip with his hand.
Breaking apart only for air he says, “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed of this moment”. He lips make contact with your neck, trailing down to your collarbone as he tentatively paws at your boob. It’s all passion between you. 8 months of sexual tension all being released at once. His kisses move lower, as he starts sucking on one of your nipples, slowly lowering himself to his knees. His mouth follows this southbound patter until he lands on his knees in front of you.
Grabbing your hips with his hands he looks up at you. “God- you are so fucking sexy” he says as he starts to kiss and nibble at your thighs, urging them apart. Your core is aching for any kind of contact. Dean pokes out his tongue between your wet folds, causing you to gasp at the contact. He gives you one last devilish smirk before he laps away at your sex. It throws you off guard, almost causing you to lose balance, but Dean steadies you with his hands never stopping his pace. His mouth latched onto your clit, sucking and biting. It doesn’t take very long before that coil winds up so tight and you release all over his face. He rides out your orgasm and then you pull him up to kiss him again. The kiss is different this time, almost more meaningful but still steamy. You open your mouth, allowing his tongue to graze over yours tasting yourself on him. You reach a hand in between you to palm his hard cock, causing the most pornographic groan from Dean into your mouth. Despite having just came, your core was practically crying for more. Wanting to return the favor for him, you started lowering yourself to your knees, as you still palmed him.
He quickly grabbed your arms. “Not this time, darlin. I want to feel you. Can I do that?” Dean asks.
“Yes please Dean, I need you.” You say standing upright again. Dean lined himself up with you and slowly pushed in, allowing you to adjust. You squeeze your eyes tight as the pain melts into pleasure.
“You can move now” you tell Dean and he does at a gruelingly slow pace. He starts speeding up as he kisses your lips again and rests his forehead against yours. The only sounds are of the water hitting the floor, the contact of your skin, and the heavy breaths and moans coming from the both of you. Dean reaches his hand down in between the two of you putting his thumb against your clit and making small circles. You’re sensitive from your last orgasm so you suck a breath in through your teeth and close your eyes.
“Please look at me, I want to watch you unravel on my cock. You look so beautiful like this” Dean praises. That familiar sensation builds and builds.
“That’s it. Cum for me. You can do it, uh huh. Good girl” Praise repeatedly falls from Deans lips as you orgasm for the second time, so much harder than before. The tightening of your cunt around Deans cock causes him to cum as well, spilling his juices into you. You both stay in that position for a moment, foreheads pressed together, taking deep breaths. Dean slowly pulls out of you and leans in for another kiss.
“We should’ve done that a long time ago” he says and you just chuckled. You two clean up by finishing up the shower together, Dean sweetly cleaning up your sex and washing your hair for you. Once you two get out, you both cuddle up on his bed.
“So, um… what caused you to be so bold?” Dean asked as you nuzzled your head into his shoulder.
“I don’t know, I guess I was just tired of you flirting with me but not making any real moves” You teased.
“Hey, those are my moves” Dean said defensively.
You two chatted some more, then fell asleep in each others arms watching old tv show re-runs.
The End.
#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#fanfic#sam winchester#supernatural#dean winchester smut#smut#praise k!nk#shower scene
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We Can’t Be Friends
Sam x Reader One Shot based on this request!
Summary: You can’t be around someone who broke your heart. You just can’t be friends.
A/N: This is a super long one shot. Sorry, not sorry :)
You
Your lips were inches from each other. You could feel Sam’s breath on your face, Your eyes were closed, the anticipation of the moment you’d dreamed of for so long killing you.
Suddenly, you felt his presence gone. You opened your eyes, Sam had stepped back, his hand running through his hair.
“We can’t do this, Y/N,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut.
”W-What?” You questioned.
“We can’t be together. It would never work—it’s too risky. You know that.”
You opened your mouth to argue but no words came out. He wasn’t wrong. Hunters dating each other was rough. There was always something out there that could use you against each other. There was always the threat of losing the other person on a hunt. Young death was common. Getting involved with each other would just make it more painful.
You wanted to scream at him that you could make it work. You wanted to beg him to give it a try.
But all you did was nod. You swallowed, willing the tears stinging at your eyes to go away.
Sam nodded back, also at a loss for words. He turned, heading down the hallway to his room. When you heard his door close, you finally let the tears fall.
Three Weeks Later
You
Your sharp hearing alerted you to someone other than Sam or Dean entering the kitchen. Your back was to the entryway as you had been filling your coffee mug. It was six in the morning, and even Sam who was an early riser was never up that early.
Besides, you knew what the boys sounded like. They had very distinct sounds to their steps—individual ways of breathing that you knew like the back of your hand.
This person was not Sam or Dean.
You pulled your gun from your waistband and spun around instantly, training your firearm on the intruder.
The woman raised her hands in surrender instantly, a look of confusion on her face. She looked to be about your age. She had long, straight blonde hair, and doe-like eyes that were a bright shade of blue. Her long legs seemed to stretch on forever in the pair of boxer shorts she wore that were rolled up at the waist. She had a white ribbed tank top on with a flannel thrown over it.
“There is no good way to enter a room that contains a hunter when they’re not expecting you,” she said, her hands still raised and a small smile on her face.
“Who are you?” You demanded, unflinching.
”I’m Danielle. I guess Sam didn’t warn you I was here.”
”You expect me to believe you were invited here?” You had a hard time believing Sam had just “forgotten” to tell you about a guest.
”Well, it was kinda last minute…” she trailed off. You studied her awkward expression before realization hit you. She wasn’t just wearing a flannel and boxers. She was wearing one of Sam’s flannels. You weren’t sure about the boxers, but you had a pretty good guess as to who they belonged to.
A sharp pain shot straight through you as you realized what that meant. This woman had spent the night.
”Oh,” you said lamely. You lowered your gun.
“Whoa, Y/N, what’s goin’ on?” Dean asked, coming into the kitchen behind Danielle. “We don’t wanna scare off any chicks that actually like my brother,” he joked.
Dean hadn’t known about what happened between you and Sam a few weeks before. You were pretty sure he knew about your feelings for his brother, but you hadn’t told him about your near-relationship. So to Dean, Sam having a girl stay overnight was just business as usual.
He didn’t know it was making you bite the inside of your cheek so hard it bled.
“Sorry about that,” you mumbled. She put her hands down as you put your gun back in your waistband. You turned to Dean. ”You knew she was here?”
”Yeah, Sammy texted me last night. He didn’t tell you?” Dean asked, confused.
You feigned nonchalance. “Must’ve forgot,” you shrugged.
“Huh. Well, Y/N, Danielle’s here,” he said, giving your shoulder a small shove as he went to get himself a cup of coffee.
You realized that regardless of your feelings for Sam, you were being rude.
“I’m sorry. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Danielle,” you said, striding over to her and reaching out a hand. She shook it, smiling.
”It’s no problem, Y/N. I would have done the same thing,” she said with a chuckle.
”You’re a hunter too, I take it?” You asked, handing her the mug meant for you and going back to get coffee for yourself again. She sat down at the table and you sat across from her, trying your best to hide your shock at her mere presence.
One-night-stands weren’t new to you. All three of you had them now and again. You just weren’t expecting Sam to have one so soon after your…incident.
“Yeah, I met Sam at a shifter case nearby. We got a drink to celebrate when it was over and…well, here I am.”
You smiled lightly as Dean came to sit next to you. You could feel how forced it was, and by the way you could feel his eyes on you, Dean knew, too.
You spent the next ten minutes getting to know Danielle with Dean before Sam finally stumbled into the kitchen.
“Well, look who decided to show up,” Dean said. Sam didn’t seem that surprised that Danielle was still there. You watched him as he walked in and came to the table, leaning down and giving her a quick kiss. He turned and walked to the coffee pot, not once making eye contact with you.
”So what’s on the docket today?” Dean asked after taking a sip of his coffee. You were about to respond when Danielle spoke up.
”Well, Sammy and I are going to head up to Colorado for a werewolf case. Then we thought we’d rent a place up there, have a little mini ski vacation.”
Sammy.
We.
Vacation.
Realization smacked you in the face. Danielle wasn’t a one-night-stand.
Sam was dating her.
Sam
Sam dared a glance at you from behind his mug when Danielle finished speaking.
He saw realization, shock, and anger flit across your face at an amazing speed before it turned to a blank mask.
He was a dick, he knew that. He should have told you he was seeing someone.
He didn’t even really mean to be seeing someone. He’d met Danielle and had a great night of distraction with her. But when morning came, the gaping hole in his heart returned, and he couldn’t stand it. He needed more distraction.
Danielle was there. Danielle was sweet and beautiful. Danielle was interested in him.
Danielle wasn’t you, though.
Before he knew it, a couple of weeks had gone by and he had been calling her up fairly often. He couldn’t find it in himself to tell you, and it hadn’t mattered. But Danielle eventually wanted to see the infamous bunker. So he brought her home. Before telling you.
He knew you’d be pissed. You couldn’t hold it against him forever, though, could you? After all, you’d both agreed it was for the best that you don’t pursue a relationship.
As he watched your face return from blank to your normal easy-going one, he felt a little relief. Maybe you had moved on. Maybe it didn’t bother you that much.
Sam shook his head a little to clear it, listening back in on the conversation. He needed to focus on the upcoming hunt.
Your phone went to voicemail for the second time. Sam hung up, trying his brother instead.
”Yello?” Dean answered on the second ring.
”Is everything okay?” Sam asked.
”Yeah…why?”
”Where’s Y/N?”
”She’s right here, watching Dr. Sexy with me.”
Sam clenched his teeth and felt his jaw tick. You’d ignored his calls.
“Sammy?” Dean asked after Sam neglected to respond.
“Yeah, uh, nevermind. I was just checking in. Danielle and I finished the hunt. We’re gonna spend a couple days up here and then I’ll be home.”
”Alright, brother. Enjoy,” Dean said. Sam could almost hear his eyebrows wiggling. He rolled his eyes and hung up without responding.
“Everything okay?” Danielle asked, putting her arms around Sam’s neck from behind and placing her face against his. He swallowed, pushing aside his annoyance.
“Yep, all good.”
You
Dean hung up the phone and turned to look at you.
“What?” You asked, feigning innocence.
“You wanna tell me what that was about?” He asked, eyeing you.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huffed, turning back to the TV.
Dean snatched the remote from next to you, turning it off. “Bullshit. You’ve been weird the last two days. What is going on? Did you and Sam have a fight or something?”
“Or something,” you muttered.
“Y/N,” he said, staring you down.
“You know how I feel about him, right?” You asked with a sigh.
“Yeah,” he replied with a shrug.
”Well, that just makes it…hard to be around him right now. Or talk to him.”
Dean nodded slowly. “But, Y/N, this isn’t anything really new, is it?”
You let out a dry chuckle. “Well, it turns out my feelings aren’t so one-sided.”
”Well I coulda told you that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Sam’s always been crazy about you.”
You nodded, pursing your lips. You gave him a minute to let what he was saying sink in.
“Wait, if you know you like each other, why aren’t you together?”
”Because dating when you’re a hunter is a bad idea,” you said flatly.
”But…Danielle’s a…” he trailed off. “Oh.”
”Yeah. Oh.”
”I’m so sorry, Y/N/N. I wouldn’t have been so easy-going about her being here if I’d known,” he said, his eyes shining with regret.
”Don’t worry about it, De. I just…I need some space from him. I don’t think I can be his friend right now.” You felt your face crumple a bit as the words left your mouth. You sniffled, and you saw Dean’s eyes flash with a protective anger.
”I’ll knock some sense into him,” he said, his jaw ticking.
“Dean, no. I’m a big girl. I don’t need you to beat up your brother for me,” you said with a chuckle. Dean really was your best friend outside of Sam, and you felt your heart swell a little at the thought of him siding with you over his own brother.
”Fine,” he sighed. “But Y/N, you say the word, and his ass is grass.”
You laughed and rolled your eyes, Dean’s antics cheering you up a little. “Got it.”
It was a little harder to avoid Sam when he got back from his “mini-vacation.” He had clearly caught on to the fact that you didn’t want to hang out with him. Not that you were subtle.
Whenever Sam walked into a room you were in, you mumbled some excuse and left. You could see that it was bothering him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It’s not like he didn’t deserve it.
He’d tried to talk to you about it a couple of times. You’d been able to avoid the conversation.
Until now, that is.
”Y/N, stop.” He grasped your arm as you turned to leave the library. You’d come in from the kitchen and seen him there and immediately tried to escape. He was fast, though, and pulled you to a bookshelf, effectively cornering you.
You pulled your arm away from his hand as if he’d burned you.
“What, Sam?” You asked with very little patience.
”What do you mean, ‘what’? You’ve been avoiding me for the better part of a month,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yeah, well, you’ve been busy,” you said, emphasizing the last word.
“I’ve been here almost every day,” he said, clearly not getting what you were saying. “Why don’t you want to hang out with me? I miss you.”
You almost softened your resolve when he said that. But the pain that creeped in when you remembered Danielle put the wall right back up. If he couldn’t see what he’d done, you weren’t going to explain it to him.
”It’s nothing, Sam. I’ve just been busy, too.” You met his eyes but made sure to keep yours blank. He searched them for a moment. “Can I go now?” You asked.
He nodded, a look of sadness on his face. You slipped past him and out of the library before you could change your mind.
A few more weeks went by and you could feel yourself becoming less and less like yourself. You continued to give Sam the cold shoulder, and it seemed he had given up trying to get you to talk, too. You spoke with him when it was essential for hunts, but rarely outside of that.
Danielle had been joining many of your hunts and hanging around the bunker a lot. It was painful to see them together, but she really was a nice girl and a great hunter. It wasn’t her fault you were heartbroken.
You breathed a sigh of relief when you heard Danielle wouldn’t be coming on the afternoon’s hunt. You were going to the next town over to take care of a vamp nest, which should have been quick and easy.
It wasn’t.
There were more vampires than any of you had thought. The three you killed easily were only a third of what the nest actually was. You each took on two more when they appeared. You could hear the sounds of Sam and Dean fighting theirs off as you lopped off the head of one of yours. The other one, though, got the jump on you. He threw you against the wall with unbelievable force, knocking the wind out of you.
You laid crumpled on the floor, trying to get your bearings. You had hit your head, and you reached back to feel the bump, your hand coming back red with blood. Your back was screaming, and you could tell you’d at least bruised a few ribs.
“Stupid girl,” the vampire said, closing in on you slowly. “You killed my family. That cannot stand.”
Your vision was becoming fuzzy around the edges, unconsciousness pulling at you. As the vamp leaned in, fangs bared, his eyes went wide just before his head was gone. It rolled to the floor and his body fell back with a loud thump on the floor.
“Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?” Sam shouted. He was kneeling down in front of you where the vampire had just been. He held your shoulders and you blinked hard, trying to get your vision to clear. It was useless, though, and you felt yourself go limp before darkness took over.
“Y/N. Y/N,” you heard as you opened your eyes. You blinked against the harsh light of the bunker’s kitchen. You were sat in a chair, Dean holding you up by your shoulders and lightly tapping your face.
”Y-Yeah,” you said, your head pounding. “I’m okay.”
”I’ll be the judge of that,” he replied. He checked you over and when you both agreed that you’d just been knocked out and probably had some bruised ribs, he gave you a glass of water and left to go shower. You were still sitting, and realized that Sam was leaning against the counter, staring at you.
“You scared me,” he said quietly.
You pursed your lips, shrugging. “I’m fine.”
”You’re not fine. We’re not fine,” he said, looking away and shaking his head.
“Sam, don’t,” you said. You stood up and took a moment to steady yourself.
“Just talk to me, Y/N!” He said, suddenly walking toward you.
”Why don’t you talk to your girlfriend, Sam?” You said, unable to hide the hurt from your voice.
Sam’s eye met yours, a look of regret taking over.
“I made a mistake,” he said quietly.
“You—you made a mistake.” You stated sarcastically.
“Yeah, Y/N. I made a mistake starting a relationship with Danielle. I still have feelings for you,” he said. He lifted a hand like he wanted to touch you, but dropped it when he saw the look on your face.
You felt the rage bubbling up inside as you held back the tears forming the best you could.
”What do you want me to say, Sam?” You said through gritted teeth. “I’m not going to feel sorry for you.”
He swallowed, his soulful eyes meeting yours.
“You did this to us, Sam. You chose to date her. You chose this.”
”We both agreed it was better not to try!” He argued.
“No, Sam. You said it was better. I only went along with it because it was what you wanted! And then you decided to try with her!” You sucked in a breath as the tears fell in an attempt to calm yourself. “She is a good person, Sam. She doesn’t deserve less than one-hundred percent of you.”
You stepped forward, gripping his hand. You brought your eyes up to his. “Be the good man I know you are. Be with her.” You squeezed his hand once before dropping it. You brushed past him and down the hall to your room. Closing the door, you collapsed onto your bed and let the sobs escape. Some time later, you felt the bed dip behind you. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in over your sobs. So much for your hunter ears.
You knew from the scent of whiskey, cologne, and motor oil that it was Dean, though. He put a hand on your shoulder and pulled you toward him, and you let him. You rested your head on his chest and gripped his shirt as you cried. He kept his arms around you and let you, shushing you and kissing the top of your head. After what felt like hours, you fell asleep surrounded by the comfort of your best friend.
Sam
It had been a few hours since he’d seen you or Dean, so Sam decided to go looking for you. After looking in all the common areas of the bunker, he carefully opened the door to your room.
Dean met his eyes from his spot leaning against the headboard of your bed and Sam slid his gaze down, taking in your sleeping form. He could see that the space around your eyes was puffy from crying. He took a deep breath in, letting it out in a pained sigh.
“She been asleep long?” He asked his brother.
Dean just shook his head. “She’s really out, though.”
”Dean—“
”Sam, I don’t want to hear it,” Dean said, cutting him off. “Whatever bullshit reason you have for doing what you did—for doing this,” he said, nodding toward you with his head, “I don’t want to hear it.”
Sam bit the inside of his cheek and looked away, feeling the tears stinging the back of his eyes.
”What am I supposed to do, man?” He asked his big brother, his voice breaking slightly. “I love her.”
Dean’s eyes softened. “You do what’s right. You do what you always should have.”
”I can’t lose her,” Sam said quietly. He worried for a second that Dean wouldn’t know if he meant Danielle or you.
“I get it,” Dean replied, and Sam wasn’t worried anymore. “But you have to decide what that means for you. Cause you can’t have it both ways.” He looked down at you again, effectively telling Sam that he was done talking.
Sam left your room, closing the door quietly behind him.
The right thing. He’d always tried to do the right thing. And look where it’d gotten him.
He knew what he was going to do, right or wrong be damned.
You
You’d woken at some point to Dean sliding out from under you and covering you with your comforter. You were already falling back asleep as he kissed your head and said, “Sleep, sweetheart.”
Now you woke again. Your phone on your nightstand told you it was 11 AM. You’d slept for twelve hours.
Everything from the night before came rushing back to you. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to calm yourself. Your head throbbed and your ribs ached as you got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom. You showered, the hot water stinging your head wound but soothing your sore muscles. You dressed in your leggings and a t-shirt before throwing one of Sam’s flannels over it. You may not have been his girlfriend—or even speaking to him—but you would be damned if you were going to give up the comfiest piece of clothing you’d stolen from him.
You padded down the hall to the kitchen, noticing how quiet the bunker was. You didn’t know where the brothers were, but decided not to worry about it before you’d even had some coffee.
You walked into the library, intent on sitting in one of the overstuffed leather chairs by the bookshelves. You stopped, though, when you saw Sam sitting at one of the tables. He wasn’t pouring over any old tomes or looking at his laptop like usual. He was just sitting there, staring at his hands. He looked up then, and you knew he’d been waiting for you.
”Sam, please, I can’t do this again,” you said, not wanting to argue with him.
He stood, walking to you in two long strides and taking your mug, setting it down on the table nearest to you. You watched him in confusion as he came back to stand in front of you.
“You said I was a good man, Y/N.” He grabbed each of your hands with his, his eyes never leaving yours. “But a good man wouldn’t have broken your heart.”
You could feel tears welling up in your eyes. “Sam—“
”Let me just say this, Y/N/N,” he said softly. You nodded for him to continue.
“I was trying to do the right thing when I said we shouldn’t be together. I thought it would just be too hard, and I didn’t want to lose you. But being without you created this—this hole in me. So I tried to fill it. I distracted myself with Danielle. I didn’t even really want to be in a relationship with her. It’s not like I forgot what I had just said about dating as hunters. But it was different with her. The stakes weren’t as high.”
You watched him as he continued, his grip on your hands staying firm.
”She only eased the ache for a little bit, though. It always came back. It came back because you are what I need.
”When you got hurt on the hunt yesterday, my heart nearly stopped. It didn’t matter that we aren’t together. Losing you would ruin me, whether we’re together or not.
“I broke up with Danielle this morning. Maybe that makes me a bad person. I don’t know. I don’t care, though. I’m so in love with you, Y/N. And I can’t go another minute without you in my life.”
Your heart thudded in your chest, and you could feel the tears leaking out of your eyes and down your cheeks. Sam lifted his hands to your face, his thumbs wiping the tears away.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said when it was clear you were speechless. You nodded, finding it was the only thing you could manage at the moment.
Sam smiled lightly and leaned in, bringing his lips to yours. In that moment it was like you had found everything that had ever been missing in your life. You were whole again. You brought your hands up around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. He moaned, wrapping one arm around your back and pulling you flush to him.
After a few moments he pulled away, his eyes searching yours. You realized you still hadn’t spoken.
You smiled. “You are a good person, Sam. And I love you, too.”
His face lit up and he pulled you back in for another kiss.
“Thank God,” you heard from the bottom of the stairs. Dean stood there holding a few takeout bags. “I couldn’t take any more of y’all’s drama.”
You rolled your eyes at your friend before turning back to Sam. “So, do you want to try this?” You asked cautiously.
”Try? No,” he replied. Your heart sank for a moment before he continued. “We’re doing this. You’re it for me, Y/N,” he said, placing a finger under your chin before bringing his lips to yours again.
You smiled as he pulled away. “Guess we���re friends again,” you joked.
“Nuh uh,” he said, pulling you close again. “You’re mine,” he whispered in your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine.
“Then show me,” you whispered back. Next thing you knew, Sam had thrown you over his shoulder and was marching down the hall.
“Guess I’ll see you guys later,” you heard Dean call with a chuckle.
And as Sam tossed you gently on his bed and crawled up, hovering over you, you knew that he finally got it.
Being together was worth the risk.
Forevers:@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573 @cumuluscranium
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Hello!! Soooo I was reading your headcannons about Shane going with his S/O to the mines and that got me thinking. How would the Bachelors (and maybe also the Bachelorettes) react to a Gn S/O who kicks a slime or other monster in the face which kills it instantly? The Bachelors/Bachelorettes are either shocked or impressed as the S/O explains they just are really good at kicking and could probably break open a rock if they wanted to.
A/N: brother i do not remember writing that but I probably did and forgot bc let’s face it I forget things pretty easily. The bachelorettes will be a separate post because I’m taking too long posting this. Also sorry this is late. Also also my writing has gotten slower because I have taken up making music and have currently a couple songs that I’m working on including one from my farmers pov about Sebastian so y’know with that and work a lot of things are going on lmao. Pt.2 I have a cold again because of work.
Tw: violence, cursing, mentions of death, killing slimes lmao, lmk if I should tag anything else
Bc/Wc: maybe 3 for each. Maybe more? At least 100 words me thinks for each.
Stardew valley Masterlist
Sebastian
Literally just blinks and is like ….okay :|
It’s probably not surprising to him that you kicked a monster to death
Sticks to swinging a bat at them (I think he would have a bat or like a pipe or something) but thinks it’s cool that you have hand to hand…or monster to foot combat down.
Sebastian stares as you kick a duggy to death. It honestly was getting in the way of you digging for treasure and nipping at your ankles every time you weren’t paying attention. It only took one good kick for it to die and as you breathe out a puff of air in frustration, your boyfriend simply nods to himself and continues the search for anything you could donate to the museum.
“Are you gonna say anything?” You ask
He just shrugs in response, “no not really…”
In all honesty he figured you had to have a way to survive down here for hours. While kicking wasn’t the usual way, it did work and that’s all that really matters to him.
Sam
Probably did not realize at first and was like okay yeah cool it’s dead
Then realized and probably shouted VERY LOUDLY
Thinks it’s super cool because WHAT?
The stupid things take SO long to die. You kill them and they just come right back unless you blow it up…or give it a good kick to the face out of annoyance. Sam’s eyebrows raise for a second before he continues to break rocks, wanting to get this adventure over with.
Then comes the excited shouting. He’s holding you by your shoulders, shaking you and yelling words that don’t quite make it to your ears. “Sam, please!” You shout over him, the echoing sounds starting to hurt your head.
“I’m sorry,” he lets go of you but is still bouncing in place, “but that was so cool! I wanna kick things!”
Shane
Openly thinks it’s hot
Is very relieved because he never comes down into the mines and does at least want to know you’re safe
Steals your kicking strategy because it is quicker and more efficient
Do those things ever die? Can a skeleton die? How can a skeleton even be alive if not inside a per-okay they’re kicking it….and it’s dead. Wow.
Shane just stares in slight confusion as his mind races to catch up with the events that just unfolded in front of him. It was kinda fun taking out his feelings on monsters that were technically picking a fight first, but then thinking about the morality and the actual logic of it all distracted him until you actually kick a real life skeleton in the face causing it to finally permanently die. He says nothing to you, but does give you an amused smirk before adopting your strategy as his own. Kicking is way more fun than hitting rocks anyways.
Alex
Secretly thinks it’s hot
Would also try to kick things
Would want to do a playful contest to see how much stuff you two can damage honestly.
It thew Alex off when the rock he had hit with a pickaxe started moving. It threw him off even further when said rock pinched him with its apparent pincers that he didn’t even know it had. His brain completely left his skull when you kicked the thing to death with one good stomp because it had pinched him.
It didn’t even hurt that much because he wasn’t paying any attention to his wound and instead staring at you with what could only be described as adoration. Alex clears his throat and grind at you, “how ‘bout a kicking contest? Winner gets a prize”.
“What prize?” You ask, confused about his reaction. You thought he would be in a little pain at least.
“Whatever the winner decides I guess…” you shake his outstretched hand. This was going to go well for you. Now all there is left to do is think about what you want as your prize.
Harvey
Would be absolutely floored.
Like THIS IS NOT SAFE BUT OH MY GOD IMPRESSIVE
He is never coming into the mines again but at least his anxiety has gone down just a little bit (well went up then down so technically it is lower than previously).
The little thing on the ground wasn’t terrifying in the slightest, but your ferocity in destroying it made Harvey think that it was more serious than he understood it to be. Don’t get him wrong, all of the things in this mine could kill someone easily, but the monster that looked like a big ass worm didn’t really seem like a big deal compared to everything else you two had come across.
His mouth hung open as he stared at you as you glared at the stained spot where the worm thing used to be. “It would’ve turned into a monster that could fly.” You offer as soon as you turn to look at him. He nods and makes a mental note to get you muscle relaxers or something because your legs definitely have to be sore after this.
Elliott
Is MORTIFIED
like he was not expecting you to do that at ALL
The mines aren’t his favorite place and he’s glad you can defend yourself but it’s also TERRIFYING.
Probably will insert this into one of his novels where you’re already a character because it’s hot.
The bouncing little jelly things were more dangerous than Elliott had expected. Sure, he knew to some degree that you being tough was a fact because you were in these mines damn near every day for hours at a time. Whenever you came back home after a trip to the mines, covered in bruises and cuts after midnight, he always felt thankful that you had made it back home alive. But this was more than he expected. If something that looked this harmless could make him feel heavy and tired enough to wanna just lay down and die, how strong were the other monsters that lived in these mines?
Snapping out of his distracted thoughts, he watches as everything happens too quickly in front of him, rendering him unable to help because you got everything under control before he could even think to help. In one second you’re hissing in pain after a slime that you both had missed crashed into you, then the next your foot lifts up and then kicks the slime across the room. The thing splatters into goo on the wall as you check yourself for any serious injuries. Elliott calls out to you in shock, rushing over to also look over you because he wouldn’t be fully calm without checking you himself.
As you two stand in the now empty room, checking each other for any injuries that might make you leave early, Elliott can’t help but think that a sexy strong love interest in his novels is just what he needs to make his work skyrocket in popularity.
#stardew valley#sdv#stardew#sdv headcanons#stardew headcanon#stardew valley headcanons#sdv shitpost#stardew shitpost#stardew valley shitpost#sdv sebastian#sdv Shane#sdv Sam#sdv Elliott#sdv Harvey#sdv Alex#sdv reactions#stardew fanfic#stardew valley reactions#stardew sebastian#stardew Shane#stardew Sam#stardew Alex#stardew Harvey#stardew Elliott#stardew valley Sebastian#stardew valley Sam#stardew valley Harvey#stardew valley Shane#stardew valley elliott#stardew valley Alex
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Just a Mirror
Sam Winchester x plus size!Reader
Words: about 6.3k words
Warning: saddy sadness, and some allusion to sexy time, eating disorder, hating on your own person, please be careful if you sensible about this themes
REQUEST: Hi :) I saw that your requests are open, and I was wondering if you could do a Sam Winchester x plus sized reader; an angsty fluffy friends to lovers that has some smut and reader hating herself in the mirror and possibly problems with eating
Author’s note: Hi love! Thank you @desicroft02 so much for your request. I felt really inspired by your idea love and I hope you like how it came out, if you don't find yourself with what i wrote, feel free to say it to me and I'll write to you a new one !
p.s.I got very caught up in the topic, since it is something I feel very close to. I was never the skinny girl, but with the years I've grown used to feel different to others girls, and even if sometimes I really hate what I see in the mirror, I kinda arrived to the point that I see both the flaws and the strenghts of my body and I love both, but some of my closest friend and this kinda of disorder and I tried to help them the way aI could so this one is for them too.
In case you need someone to talk to, I am always here, don't be afraid to seek help because often having someone close by to remind you that the volume of that evil voice we hear inside can be lowered or eliminated is important.
Requests are open I Ask
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Why?
This is the only question that floats in your mind, while, with thick tears in your eyes, you try to read the enormous book about whatever monster you are hunting with your friends in this little city, forgotten by God.
You and your childhood best friends are hunting some monster that you still haven't been able to figure out what it is, despite the fact that you are reading yet another list of monstrous animals in the story, while Dean and Sam are still out at the bar where you had decided to spend the evening, and from which you had decided to escape as quickly as possible, without giving any kind of explanation to the two hunters, holding back tears and trying not to meet their confused gaze
You and the boys have been friends since you were six and they were seven and eleven. You met on a rainy October day when you were still living at Bobby's house, after your father had died in a hunting accident after leaving you with him, and being his friend and seeing him almost as a brother he couldn't help but welcome you and raise you as if you were his own daughter.
Dean and Sam had just been left in the rain on the narrow dirt road by their father when you looked out and saw these two cold, sad, and at the same time angry children. You could see the resentment they felt for the man who looked less and less like a father and more and more like an army general, ready to train soldiers and not raise children. Immediately you went to Bobby and told him of the presence of those two unknown children who were in your driveway. He had immediately run to get them and brought them inside the house, worried that they would get sick from standing in the rain, and wondering why their father had left them there, without saying anything.
"He said he didn't have time to explain and that he had to get there as fast as he could, but that he would call you this evening." Said the older of the two once they were seated on the couch in what must once have been a beautiful dining room, and was now more like an ever-growing mountain of books. It is to your adoptive father that you owe all the culture and ability to read texts on the supernatural that most hunters would not even know how to open.
As he spoke you could see the blond child trying to hold back the sadness within himself and show himself as a big boy, almost pretending to understand why his father abandoned them like that without saying a word; in contrast, the one who was supposed to be the smaller of the two, with unruly brown hair, looked more like a beaten puppy, as he wetly moved his feet lazily on the floor, listening to what his brother had to say, but not hiding his sadness and anger at his daddy's decision.
"Baby, couldn't you get Sammy a glass of water for him while Dean and I go make a call for a minute?" Bobby then asked you suddenly, and you realized that you were lost in thought as you watched and studied those boys. You nodded quickly, trying not to let it show that you had spent all that time staring at them, as you heard Bobby's voice and that of the blond boy, apparently named Dean, drift away, only to hear the front door open and close.
After a few minutes you returned to the living room with a glass in your hand, and walked over to the brown-eyed boy, who was now looking at you and smiling shyly. You handed him the glass with a beaming smile, and he could do nothing but blush a little and retract his body a little, letting shyness take possession of him as he took the glass.
"Thank you." He told you in a faint voice.
"You're welcome." You replied as you sat next to him on the sofa.
"My name is Sam." He said, only to freeze and blush again as he held out a hand for you to shake, just as grown-ups do. You told him your name, and he commented that it was a very nice name, and that he liked it a lot, before going back to being silent and staring into the sad void.
You not being able to see what you considered a new friend feel so bad, you shamelessly asked him why his father had left him there and if that was why he was sad. He turned to look at you, and unknown how, he burst into tears, while with his hands he covered his face, not wanting to be seen as weak with someone he had just met, but you didn't give a damn.
Immediately you hugged him and listened to him talk about how his father was behaving with them, how his brother was struggling more and more to hide that he was tired of his parent's behavior, and how he was lonely and sad, constantly changing towns and seeing nothing but his family. That poor seven-year-old seemed to be thirty years old because of the problems he was telling you about, and as much as you were even younger because you were only six, you felt like you could understand him, because for a while that had also been your life before your father passed away.
You remained thus cuddled on the couch and fell asleep, lulled by the warmth of the fire slightly away from you and the new friendly presence that had entered your lives that afternoon, so much so that when Bobby and Dean returned after trying for a varied amount of time to contact John, and finally once succeeding in being insulted and put down by him, they both smiled at the sight of those two small and defenseless children embracing each other, as if to protect each other from the world. But no one knew that night before you fell asleep you had promised to protect each other forever, no matter how, when or why you would always be there for each other.
That was how you got to know the Winchester brothers, and the hatred for their father also began.
You awaken from your thoughts when you hear the motel door open and close, realizing that another time had gone into the whirlwind of memories and you were lost in remembering again when life was easy. You hear someone coming toward you with heavy footsteps, so you wipe away the tears you didn't know were there on your cheeks, which like small streams had almost made a furrow along your skin by now.
You sense right away who it is, but you don't have the strength to turn around so you continue to cry silently as you feel two arms wrapped around you, and Dean's warm body resting on your back as he leans down so that he can put his head in the crook of your neck and hold you better. Ever since the two of you met it was immediately like big brother and little sister between the two of you, and even now despite the fact that it has been a long time since you were children and in your spare time you enjoyed stealing cherries from the neighbor's tree, there is still that complicity and understanding between the two of you that once existed.
He knows exactly why you escaped so suddenly from the dive bar you were both in a few hours ago. Sam had seen a beautiful girl, the classic cover model of some magazine, slim and with all her shape in the right place, taking a drink at the bar, looking seductively at him as she put the drink straw between her lips. Sam's hormones had not let him repeat twice that clear call to fuck directly in the bar's bathroom, a bathroom from which you were coming out as he was sticking his tongue down the throat of that fake and at the same time perfect babe, who in his arms looked so small and yet in the right place, toned against his strong muscles, as opposed to how you would have looked with your shapely body. You couldn't stand there and watch the boy you love for so long now make out with someone else, so without explanation you left and went back to the motel where you took two bedrooms for the case. Usually you take two rooms only when Dean wanted to find someone to take to bed, unlike Sam who kept his sex life much more private than his brother, but since he and Cas had come out a few months ago you had not taken the second room, having practically grown up together and thus having no problem sharing space. That night, however, when you had arrived in the small town Sam had insisted on taking a second room, and stubbornly had not told his older brother why when he had asked him, and somehow your heart was preparing for what would happen, but in fact nothing would totally prepare you for what you would see in that bar and how your heart would break.
Dean squeezes you tightly, as if he is afraid you will disappear at any moment, and that heartfelt squeeze only makes you break the weak dam you had built when you saw him come in, and you burst into endless weeping.
"I know baby, I know." That's all the blond man can manage to say to you, as he gets you up and carries you toward the bed, so you can lie down and take off your shoes, before coming close to you and holding you in his arms, until exhausted, you fall asleep safe in Dean's strong hold, while he whispers soothing words to you.
The next morning you wake up with the sun gently caressing your face from over Dean's shoulder. You smile for a second, imagining what it would be like to wake up in the other Winchester's arms, and soon after your heart, as if pierced by an arrow, bleeds at the memory of what happened last night. You get up, shifting your friend's arms, and go to the bathroom to wash and freshen up, when you hear the door to your room open, and a male voice, known even too well, shout to your still sleeping friend.
"Dean, wake up!" Sam yells, and you behind the door hold a hand over your heart, just imagining her beauty after her usual morning run to stay in shape. Her long dark hair tied back in a light bun, her forehead sweaty and muscles still tense from exertion.
"I'm awake, you asshole." Dean replies, as you hear him get up and go get some coffee. "You could have deigned to make less noise last damn night, you know there were people here who wanted to sleep."
You hear Sam snort at his brother's words, then respond to him in an aggressive, cold tone.
"Well then there are people who wouldn't want to see you run off to fuck wherever we go, hold hands all the time or make love wherever you are. And you know something else too Dean, I thought you were a better person. Why her? Come on you've had a lot of girls, and it wouldn't cost you anything to find a thousand more, why did you have to choose her!?" Says the younger brother, before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.
You close your eyes and try to control your breathing as you feel yourself lacking oxygen. You feel tears coming to your eyes, but you try with all your strength to push them back down. You take a few minutes to control your emotions as all you want to do is fall to the floor on your knees and scream until you can't hear yourself anymore, but you stay strong and open the door to see Dean immediately in front of you, looking pained and guilty, seeing your state.
"You didn't tell him." You say in a calm, quiet voice, not asking, but stating that your best friend had not told about his new relationship with our angel friend.
"I never found the right time." Dean tries to say, then looks down. "I never had the courage, every time I seemed to miss the words."
"Sam would never judge you, and you know that." You say as you feel a pang inside your heart, remembering the words the man you love had used a few minutes earlier. You feel your clothes sticking to your body like glue, too tight, so tight that you feel as if they have pre torn. You feel how the floor gives way under your feet, you feel how a billion eyes are on you ready to judge you, you feel something inside you break, but you can't let anyone but yourself see how mere words have hurt you, so you grit your teeth and continue to look at Dean stoically, as you feel a single and only tear escape down your face.
"I know, but I'm afraid in the same way, I don't want it to end like last time." Dean confesses, still looking at the floor, but crying clearly, as his words take you back to when you were nothing more than kids and he had come crying to you one night, confessing that he had fallen in love with a boy he had met during his last case, and that his father after finding out had beaten him so badly that his scars remained, and had forced him to watch pornographic movies, reminding him how "a real man acts." No one had ever seen you as angry as Dean, and Bobby when he heard you scream and came to watch that night as you swore to heaven that you would kill John Winchester. Dean had never told Sam about that episode, not wanting to worry him since he had just run away to study at Stanford, and asked you to do the same. It has been so long since that night, yet the memory of that pain and that man still frightens the wonderful person in front of you.
"But I swear I will. He has no right to think such things about you! I-I will tell him-" He begins to say, as he tries to wipe away the tears running copiously down his face. You, moved in turn and knowing that like you he too was remembering that fateful evening, take his face in your hands and bring his eyes to gaze fixedly into yours.
"No, you won't do it now, you will do it when you feel like it." You comment chuckling as you caress his face. He looks at you unconvinced and you see his inner battle inside whether to accept your proposal or to be as always too good and allow the world to kick him in the balls.
"Please be selfish for once. And if I serve as your cover, so be it, not that I would have had any chance with him anyway." You continue, smiling at him as you feel your heart slowly shatter. You see Dean ready to retort, but you have already disappeared back into the bathroom, crying silently. Once the bathroom door is closed, you stop to look at yourself in the mirror and realize how disgusted you feel about your body.
There is not a single thing about you that you like: your thighs, your arms, your stomach, your chest.
The more you look at yourself, the more you want to break that all-too-truthful mirror, which tells an unfiltered reality, a sad truth that for so long you had tried to ignore, but which now that Sam had spit it in your face you could no longer pretend not to see. So you decide at this very moment that everything was going to change, you don't know how, but it was going to happen.
So weeks go by, Sam still won't talk to you, and slowly you continue to sink into the stupid realization that he doesn't because only he, like you, can really see your body, and that he hates you for it, so now convinced that you have to change your body to be loved, you begin to eat less and less and more rarely, and what little you put in your mouth to make Dean happy, who sees you getting sadder and more tired, is rejected from your stomach just moments later when no one is looking at you. This situation hurts your body and your heart, but you do it so that you can look at yourself in the mirror without wanting to punch him, but things seem to get worse and worse. You look at yourself and you never fit, before you saw a body you didn't like, now beyond that you see a person you don't like.
Dean is getting more and more worried about you, seeing you getting paler and paler and thinner, but every time he tries to talk to you, you put on a smile and pretend that everything is going well and that the only reason your shirts now look huge on you is that you are working out more, but he knows that you never liked sports and that is why he knows you are lying to him. He tried to talk to Sam about what was going on, but all his brother managed to say by pouting was that if he needed relationship advice to go somewhere else and that he didn't want anything to do with the two of you.
Dean was on the verge of smashing the plate he was holding in his face and yelling at him to open his eyes and see that you love him more than Dean does right now and that he is fucking in love with their favorite angel, but then he had seen Castiel's face and knew he couldn't let him down after he asked him to keep a low profile and let as few people as possible know about their relationship.
Dean had never felt so lousy as deciding between the love of his life and a friend in need, but he knew that if you found out what he had done you would insult him, so he played it cool and moved on, as if nothing had happened, while he continued to try to take care of you, with little success.
It's been almost a month since Sam had said those horrible things, and you're not getting worse and worse, but in order not to show it in front of your friends, you keep doing the same things as before, trying to have the same cheerfulness.
You are now hunting a werewolf in a remote town in a state you don't even remember. Your body is weak, you haven't eaten anything Dean has brought you in the last three days taken at the various fast food restaurants and bars he had found along the way, and what little you had put in your mouth had gone down the drain shortly thereafter, hating yourself just for having the idea that you could eat something. You feel your eyelids as heavy as shutters, the muscles in your body are nonexistent, and what few are left ache from the mere effort of standing and walking, while your head throbs incessantly.
In this you are scouting around where the last victims had been killed, to see if you can find any more information, but so far you have not had much success, so you decided to split up.
You are barely holding the flashlight in your hand, too heavy for you, when you feel a sudden dizziness that forces you to lean against the wall. You stay a few minutes trying to catch your breath, eyes closed, breathing in the cool night air around you, when you hear a noise coming from a short distance away from you, like a dog growling. With difficulty you open your eyes and see before you a sight that is frightening to say the least: the werewolf you were looking for is looking at you ravenously, while a dark laughter rumbles from his belly to his mouth. Quickly you try to pick up the phone to call Dean or Sam, but unfortunately your mind is so clouded that you can't even do simple things like this and the phone slips out of your hands to the monster's feet.
"The Winchesters' little friend!" He says, seeing who you were trying to contact. "I've heard a lot about you, among the monsters you are known as their true weakness: so small and helpless, you wouldn't even survive my bite, I'll do you a favor and eat your miserable heart." He continues as he gets closer, and you do whatever comes to your chin at this moment, as you feel death coming slowly but comfortingly too, like an old friend you haven't seen in a long time. You scream Sam and Dean's name as loud as you can, hoping that at least one of them can hear you, your lungs aching from how much breath you had to use and your throat burning from the effort as you feel your strength failing.
You lean back against the wall again, this time with your back, and let yourself slide down to the floor, as your vision goes completely black and your ears become plugged as when you go too deep underwater, and the world seems more and more distant. You have one last flicker of life before you pass out completely in that dark alley, at the mercy of that monster, and you hear Sam's voice call out your name for a moment.
Your heart loses a beat, and then completely dark.
You awaken with a jump and a gasp as you sit up on the bed on which someone has carried you. Your head immediately begins to spin like a spinning top, and your vision fails again as you feel a warm hand settle on your shoulder and bring you back to lie down.
"Relax, you're safe now. It's okay." Says in a low, soft tone a rough voice, leading back to Sam. You, shocked to know he is there next to you, open your eyes with difficulty and find yourself lying on the bed in your room, in the bunker, as you see him kneeling beside your bed. His face shows the weariness he feels, but in his eyes shines a strange hope as he looks at you mixed with sadness. You place your gaze on the rest of the room and see your favorite chair, where you usually sit to read your books or do your research when you are tired of sitting in the library, covered with blankets and pillows, making you realize that your favorite giant has been sleeping there for what seems to be even more than a couple of days, otherwise everything looks the same, unchanged, and strangely everything now seems to make more sense with the presence of Sam and some of his things in the room. Immediately you slap yourself in the face at that thought, reminding yourself that he hates you, and that the reason he is here is because Dean will have had better things to do than watch you sleep.
You're about to tell him that he can leave, and leave you alone, knowing that he doesn't even want to be in the same room with you, as he has shown recently, and that in case his brother asks you, you won't tell him, but he beats you to the punch and starts talking.
"First of all I want to say I'm sorry, you don't even know how much, and I certainly understand if you never forgave me in your life, because I wouldn't forgive myself." Sam says, as you see tears forming in his eyes. You try to stop him, confused as to why he was making that speech, but he stops you in turn and begs you to let him finish.
"We found you just in time, by "luck," if you can call it that, that asshole had decided to torture you a bit before eating your heart, and we got there before he could do it, but when Cas touched you to treat you he said he didn't know if you would survive anyway because your body was too weak since you hadn't eaten for too many days. Dean insulted me and even beat me up a bit before explaining the matter from his point of view." You can't help but widen your eyes, and Sam chuckles seeing your expression, as two tears run down his face, and he darkens a little again before continuing, without looking you in the eye.
"Yes, he also told me about Cas, and also about that affair with our father to make me understand why you decided to cover for him."
You close your eyes for a moment, expecting a series of insults, but you only feel his lips rest on your hand, so you open them again and see him leaning over the bed, as you feel his tears coming hot to contact your cold hand.
"Thank you." The boy confesses in a whisper. "Thank you for everything you did for Dean, thank you for always taking care of him when I couldn't or was too blind and stupid to, I don't deserve to have you in my life."
You can't find the words, and so you do the only thing you can think of this moment, and you take his hand and squeeze it, while barely smiling at him.
"We will always have helped each other, you remember. Then Dean will be your brother, but it's like he's my brother too." You say as you pull his face up and force him to look into your eyes. You see him cry even harder, a few sobs escaping his lips, as he squeezes your hand even tighter.
"I'm sorry, I promised I would always protect you, and instead I was so stupid and jealous that I didn't realize what I was doing." He tells you again, only to stop for a moment and look at you this time with a resolve he lacked until a few seconds ago. "Why did you stop eating? How come you covered your mirror in the bathroom? Dean found the remains of the one from before in the garage, thought you didn't like it and got a new one, so he changed it for you."
Immediately you remember, one night in a rage after looking at yourself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, you had started punching it until it had become nothing but stardust under your bleeding fingers, and the next day when you had returned from your walk with the dog, you had found a new one, with a note from Dean who had said that seeing that you had taken it off, thinking that you didn't like it anymore, he had bought a new one, so realizing that you couldn't escape that vicious cycle and knowing that if it happened one more time it would arouse even more suspicion, you had simply covered it up, and hoped that no one would ever learn of that dirty secret, and instead, here it all was for all to see.
You look at Sam in those damned puppy-dog eyes of his, and burst into desperate weeping. He, seeing you in this state, instinctively picks you up and holds you in his arms.
"I disgust myself Sam." You finally manage to utter those damn words, and immediately you feel as if your soul lightens as you feel his arms grip your body even tighter as if you could disappear at any moment, and at the same time he does it with an innate delicacy, as if it were a precious crystal figurine that can be broken under his gaze. "I'm disgusted by my body, I'm disgusted by every single thing about me, and you're disgusted by it too, don't lie to me. I thought if I lost weight things would get better, but they don't, I feel worse and worse." You continue, while somehow trying to get away from him.
"In what sense would you disgust me? When would I have ever said such a thing?" He asks confusedly as he looks at you, tears have dried on his face. His eyes range and seem to want to imprint your every little detail in his memory. His gaze makes you blush as you try to find the words to tell him how his words have done nothing but unleash a storm that had long been locked up somewhere inside you and was just waiting to be released. So you take a deep breath and tell him everything, while he looks at you attentively and astonished, his arms still around his body, as if he needs reminding that you are there beside him, and that you are not just a product of his mind.
You tell him everything, every little thing you had felt hearing his words while you were locked in that damn bathroom, your feelings and emotions in the month to follow, along with all the thoughts and all the actions you had put in place in the hope that he would no longer hate you, and that maybe you would hate yourself less, too. He starts crying again, and hides his face in the crook of your neck.
You stay a few minutes clasped to each other, in silence, after you have poured your heart out in front of him, ready to suffer the consequences, when he takes your face in his hands and stares at you steadily with those chocolate-colored eyes of his, and for a moment you feel your breath short.
"Don't ever think of such a thing again. Never. You are perfect exactly as you are, there is nothing I would change about you, there is nothing I don't love about you." At his words you stand still, as if petrified, afraid that a single movement of yours could mean the breaking of this beautiful illusion. "Yes, I am tired of holding all this in, I love you, I love you so much that I am sick just thinking about not having you near me for a second, I love you so much that I would have been ready to kill my brother for stealing the girl I love all my life, I love you so much that I would be ready to climb the highest mountain in the world and scream it to everyone!" He continues as he stands up on the bed, and begins to move his arms quickly, just enough to make you laugh. At the sound of your laughter he turns to look at you, and smiles even more, to return next to you on his knees and cup your face in his hands. "I love every little, tiny thing about you madly. I'm crazy, crazy in love, and I was a fool because I was so convinced that getting away from you would be better for you, that I didn't realize that you were suffering because of me, and I'm sorry. On the one hand I would like to let you go and make you happy, but on the other hand I am an extremely selfish being and I only want you for myself." He continues as he rests his forehead on yours, whispering the last words. "I love you, and I'm sorry."
You look at him, and not even realizing what you are doing, you take his face in your hands and bring his lips to yours. The kiss you exchange arises as sweet and gentle, like two flames dancing in an elegant dance side by side, testing each other's reaction, in the same way your lips move over each other, slowly tasting that new sensation. You feel her soft lips caressing yours, until neither of you has a single breath left.
"I love you too if you hadn't realized it idiot." You comment making him laugh. "I love you, and for so long I would have preferred not to because it made me sick, yet I could do nothing but love you. The only reason that kept me alive was my love for you, even though it was also my poison." You continue by looking into his eyes, and you see the pain in his.
"If you forgive me, I will do everything to correct what I have done." He looks at you, with a penitent and pleading gaze, as he takes your hands in his, before you release one and place it on his right cheek, and he instinctively leans into your hands, seeking that simple contact.
"I've already forgiven you moron." She laughingly comments, before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him again, but this time the air in the room is different. The atmosphere becomes more erotic and intriguing. You feel his hands carefully explore your body, running his hands down your sides from your breasts to your butt, where he rests his large, warm hands, before slipping them under your T-shirt and caressing the skin of your back, making you shiver. You feel his hand rise higher and higher to the level of your bra and undo the hook that held it, but then he stops. Parting your lips he looks into your eyes for a second.
"If you don't feel up to it it's perfectly fine honey, we can stop here-"Sam says unsure, but you stop him.
"Afraid it's too much for you Winchester?" You ask as you raise your eyebrows, and see him smile, before resting his lips on yours, then creating a trail of kisses from your mouth to the chest exposed by the shirt you are wearing, down your neck.
"God, how I've missed you." He comments between kisses, but then stops again and looks at you seriously. "Anyway, I wasn't kidding myself, if you don't feel comfortable we can stop here."
You look at him, in his eyes only the pure affection and love you feel for him, and then put an end to all his doubts.
"I want to do it Sam." You say in a whisper as you take the bottom of his shirt with your hands and slowly slip it off, thus also dropping the bra he had unfastened a few minutes ago. "I want to do it with you Sam."
He looks at you and doesn't let you tell him twice, and he resumes his attack on your neck, leaving obvious signs of his passage, and then moves on to your breasts.
"God, you're perfect." He whispers before teasing one of your nipples. You moan softly at that sensation, feeling his teeth clench, his lips kiss and his tongue lick every single inch of your body, worshipping you like a goddess, a queen, tasting every inch of your skin.
This wonderful moment is interrupted, however, by the unannounced entrance of Dean, who, seeing the scene of his brother splayed across your body as he kisses your breasts, and with one hand explores the rest of your body, while you clutch his long hair in your hands, moaning his name shamelessly, lets out a small scream, before closing the door again.
"Damn you guys could warn." Comments the older brother, as Sam with speed grabs a blanket to cover you.
"Should we announce? You're the one who entered the room unannounced!" Sam replies in turn, making an expression that makes you laugh. "You can still come in now jerk."
"Bitch." Dean retorts, to open the bedroom door again and have a stupid grin plastered on his face. "So, I see Sam hasn't exactly figured out how to talk and resolve a situation, usually the mouth should be free to talk, not busy sucking-"
"You try to say one more Winchester word and I'll tell everyone about Christmas with Cindy McWood." You threaten him, and see him whiten, before his smile returns to its former self.
"Well what can I say in that case guys, good conversation and be sure to use protection, I'm not ready to be an uncle." He says closing the door behind him, then opening it again. "Not that I wouldn't make a great uncle, but I would say I'm too young and then-"
"Out!" You and Sam scream in unison, and the only thing Dean does is give you the finger before walking away. The two of you stand still for a moment weighing what just happened and burst out laughing, before Sam's lips find yours again.
"Where were we?" He asks you next, and you can't help but smile and moan at feeling his lips on you again.
It's shaping up to be a very interesting night, long but interesting, and you know that in the end maybe by tomorrow morning you can slowly look at yourself in the mirror, seeing the reflection of the man you love behind you supporting you.
TAGLIST
@supernatural-lvr @itzdarling @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @evansstan-akya
#hauntedwitch04's writing#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x reader smut#sam winchester smut#sam winchester x plus size reader#sam winchester x reader#dean winchester x plus size reader#dean x castiel#supernatural x reader#supernatural#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfiction#sam winchester#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester imagine#becky's favorite#castiel x dean#castiel novak
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ALONE
Sam (stardew) x f!reader, 3300 words
summary: maybe it’s a bad idea to get high with your childhood crush, but here you are, crying and praying you didn’t feel the way you did.
a/n: okay this is way angstier than I intended it to be! It ends up being quite sweet, but the beginning is honestly depressing. Bare with it my friends, cause I’m really proud of this one!!!
cw: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! childhood friends to lovers, smoking and getting high on weed. Mentions of family members passing and reader is struggling with intense grief. Swearing, kissing, making out, 69ing, ejaculation and both f and m orgasms. Slight religious comparisons.
No one would expect what would happen tonight, not even you, who has been friends with Sam since birth. Your parents raised you together along with Sebastian and Abigail to always be by each other’s side, exploring your grandparents farm or causing trouble in the town square. But in the back of your head, you always had some strange, borderline inappropriate crush on Sam. Just a simple smile would make your heart flutter, and you spent many late nights crying over some new girlfriend he had for at most a week at your school. But it was wrong. You told yourself that a million times. He was like a brother, not anything more or anything less.
You find yourself at his on a Friday night, hair sprawled on his sheets and skin concealed by a skimpy top and shorts; far too risqué for a day out on the farm. You wore it just for Sam, hoping that it could indulge you in some fantasies you have long dreamt about. It was idiotic to think that anything could happen, but your high brain after smoking a joint together caused some delusional thoughts of childhood escapades to return.
What if something could finally happen between you? No, you can’t think that about one of your best friends. Fucking fool.
You couldn’t blame yourself though, as Sam invited you to have a sleepover at his after a night in the saloon. Since you inherited your Grandparents farm and moved back into your childhood home, it’s been difficult spending a single night there. No matter how much wood is in the fireplace or the volume of music you blast, you can’t escape the cold quietness that comes with that tiny cabin. You miss the times where the farmhouse was always bustling with community members and smelling of homecooked meals, wondering what the world looked like outside of your small town with outstanding naïve. At least you still have your friends, who will be there for you no matter what. You feel those same feelings arise when you’re with Sam though, watching him play his guitar while smoke billows out of your mouth picturesquely. His light blonde hair falls messily over his face, the freckles peaking out like splatters on a canvas. If you were to paint him, you could easily portray every detail, flaw and all. He’s perfect you think, wondering what his lips would taste like on yours.
He abruptly stops the song, sticking his hand out to you. “give me a puff.” You huff at him, handing it over. You can’t help the way your thighs clench when your fingers brush, and somehow you feel as if he is the same, as his eyes linger for a second too long on yours, pink lips enveloping the joint and taking a long breath.
Theres no way he feels the same, don’t be an idiot.
The room reeks of marijuana, something that you know Jodi would kill you for. She was always stressed out of her mind with the two of you, getting into trouble and causing a ruckus. And you feel like that same teenager all over again, doing something your parents would never approve of in a precariously hid secret.
They did know the truth though, and let it happen. You kept him safe, and he kept you sane. A symbiotic relationship. Jodi mostly thought her son was reckless. Unpredictable. Unadulterated. But around you, he became a man, ready to protect and be protected. On nights like this where you have no energy to fight the visions racing in your mind, he would be there, playing your favourite songs on his guitar and staying up to make sure your nightmares don’t get too tense.
As you battle with your subconsciousness to fight the intense guilt eating away at you for such childish caprices, tears start to leak out of your eyes. Sam immediately notices, snuffing out the joint and placing his guitar down. “No… What’s wrong?” He sits by you on the bed, hand brushing some hair out of your eyes. He immediately regrets it, pulling his hand away. This makes you cry even more.
He doesn’t even want to touch you, you’re insane for even considering he liked you back.
Sam reluctantly shuffles down to lie on his side next to you, face opposite yours. You feel his eyes staring at you, but don’t dare to move. If you do, he might ask what’s wrong. What are you supposed to say? I’m crying because I’m so grateful you are here for me and all I want is to love you like you deserve but it will never be?
The two of you lie like this for at least an hour, frozen like statues, minds running wild. But at least your tears have dried, so you can turn to him and feed into impulses without looking like some hideous beast.
“There she is.” He smiles, crow’s feet appearing by his eyes. “Don’t do that Sam.” You plead, pain striking your chest at how his innocent worlds blush your cheeks. Unaware, he grins, grabbing your shoulders and pinning you down. He straddles you, breath tickling your forehead as he peers over your shocked frame. To any other individual this is inherently sexual, but not to Sam. He starts air punching your face, eliciting a giggle to erupt from your throat. You push him off, and an all-familiar wrestling match ensues. You leap and he twists, you scream and he laughs. This is something you would do with your friends all the time previously, and it feels ever so natural to do it again after all these years. The two of you intertwine like gloves, dodging each other’s clumsy attacks and laughing like wild parrots. But you’re not the same little kids anymore, so you get tired quicker than you used to and the only sounds soon heard are your breaths amalgamating as you gasp for air when you stop, slightly embarrassed by your unfit states. Maybe it’s the smoke that caused your lungs to be this way, or the fact that you’re getting older. More likely, it’s the how close your faces are to each other, him once again on top of you, now pinning your hands up above your head as your core selfishly soils.
It's pathetic honestly, how malleable you are around him. After all these years you believed you could come back to Pelican town as a new person, capable of taking care of yourself after seeing the world. You thought you would be some mature, sexy woman standing in front of him, having her own escapades and somehow showing this clueless man your better than him. But that isn’t reality. When you saw him again, your eyes were puffy from grieving the dead, your hair matted and body frumpy in it’s baggy clothes, and not at all appearing confident or self-assured. What’s worse, you’re still a virgin. That may seem unimportant to the average person, but you always held yourself out in hopes for Sam. So the real world gave you an opportunity to let go of those immature ties, breaking free from what held you back.
None of that matters now, when he says the most unexpected thing you could think of, like a man out of your dreams. His words come out anxious and light, as if he didn’t even expect them himself.
“Can I kiss you?”
You nod, unable to get the words out. Because if you did, it may not be true. Nonetheless he leans down, pausing mere millimetres away from you. It’s tantalising, but your scared, so you don’t argue with it. This is something you have imagined for years, and it could finally happen. Your lips connect as he brings himself the final way down, a groan leaving his mouth in pleasure. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you already are, but he doesn’t seem to care as one arm slides down to your waist. Not a moment to goes by before his tongue slips between your shaking lips, raking along your teeth and intertwining with yours, saliva tasting earthy just like the cannabis you consumed. The shared kiss is inexperienced, wild and erratic, as if the two of you have been waiting for this moment for years. And you have.
Your hands take the moment to explore every inch of skin you’ve never been able to touch, his back rippling like waves and his chest heaving like a hungry shark. Even those warm eyes stare right at you like the deep blue when you pull away, both unsure of where to go from here.
“What are we doing Sam?” You ask, maintaining the tiniest sliver of mature so you can understand where his head is at. If he were to ask you the same thing, you would say you are doing what’s exactly right. Finally giving into love, surrendering to what you deserve and living as solely each other’s until your dying days. This is it, the first and final time you need to expose yourself. Because this should be your forever, as insane as it sounds.
“I don’t know.” He admits, in a statement far from what you want to hear. “But I’ve wanted this for a long time. So lets see how this goes.” He leans back down after saying this, pure passion drenching his kiss as he practically suffocated you. Your body takes over autopilot after his words, kissing him back while processing what he just said.
He wanted this for a long time? Does that mean he feels the same way? This can’t be real.
The realisation invigorates you, a side coming out nobody has ever had the fortune to experience. You flip him over to be on top, lips barely leaving his for a second as you explore his mouth in turn. His hard on now touches you, and you desperately try to conceal your moan as you realise what you’ve done to him. But you’re exactly the same, every and any bit of friction vibrating within you. You need it. You need him to do whatever he wants, to show you whatever you don’t know and finally leave those secrets only left for lovers behind. You start to roll your hips into his, the two of you making obscene noises as you struggle to keep your kissing going. His fingers dig into your ass, hands trembling at the lewdity the two of you have never experienced before. But you don’t know this yet, and neither does he. You need to break the news sooner or later.
“I need you” You concede, grinding into him with shaky breaths. Understanding the sentiment perfectly, he pushes you away lightly, the two of you now sitting together completely dishevelled but enraptured. “Me too. But I’m… A virgin.”
It’s almost as if your brain blocks out his words due to sheer disbelief, because you just sit there in silence, waiting for him to say something. Just as the prospect of innocence embarrasses you, it seems to also affect him, as his face turns a shade of bright red as he nervously rubs his palm up and down his leg. “Is that weird? Cause like, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want. I know some girls get grossed out by that and I-“ “Wait what?” You genuinely ask, ignoring his previous sentiment that brought you to this moment. “I-I’m a virgin.” He repeats, eyes bewilderly looking into yours.
“Oh.” You stutter, the exclamation coming out more judgy than you meant it to. Because you never expected this handsome man opposite you to be the same as you in this regard. In your head, he’s had hundreds of experiences like this one, girls basically lining up at his door for just one touch. But he’s just as awkward as you, head about to explode in hopes you still want him just the way he is.
“Me too Sam.” You smile, an invisible barrier of worry breaking instantaneously as the two of you realise you are in the same boat. You lean forward to be on all fours to kiss him, his hand flying up to stabilise you at the jaw as you kiss, much more soft and caring than before. You pull his top up over his head, toned abs rubbing up against your stomach as your heat melds into each other. The two of you feel safe like this, alone in the four walls of his room exploring fantasies you have long thought could never be true. You know it’s true though when your hand brushes against his crotch, feeling how incredibly hard he is and the shivers he elicits after such a soft touch. Pulling away, you look in his eyes to see the daze you have placed him in. “Shall I?”
He nods frantically, and you sit back, pulling his pants and underwear down. His length springs out, precum dribbling slowly down the shaft as it hits his abs. It’s everything you ever dreamed of, throbbing and sore for your touch, as he craves the same thing as you. You spit into your hand and rub them together, before slowly going down the shaft as he moans. Although you would hate to admit it, you’re a tease, moving agonisingly slow as your hands twist and bob. Sam is acting as if you’re going as fast as humanly possible though, his head falling back and hand covering his mouth, attempting to not call out every swear word in the book.
Despite this, your determined to show him what he’s missed out on by never doing this earlier, so you lean down to swirl his tip on your tongue. He practically screams, and you need to pull away to shush him. “Shh, your mum and Vincent are in the house.” He wines, a frail hand grabbing your head and rubbing it possessively. “Please…” He mutters, almost a shell of his former self.
You obediently go back down, hot mouth enveloping his foreskin completely as he bites down on his hand to remain silent. It’s a surprise Sam doesn’t draw blood, because it takes everything in him not to call out your name at the way you envelop him. Your throat takes his member nearly completely as you push further down, eyes filling with tears as you battle against your gag reflex. His length hits the back of your throat soon thereafter, and you begin to pull back and forth, sucking as he shakes beneath you, his musk intoxicating. It doesn’t take long for him to push your spit soaked face away, looking down at you like he just had a religious experience. “Want to sit on my face?” He manages after a bit, and you don’t even bother to respond as you unbutton and pull your shorts and underwear off, revealing your soaked, sensitive cunt to him.
It's just what he dreamed of. Delicate and weak, absolutely begging for his touch. He leans forward to take your shirt and bra off, nipples hard in the air but soon softened as his hands hold them tight. He massages them, dazed vision staring at how they move in his influence. You stop him, pulling his hands away as fast as they came and pushing him to lie down in front of you as you crawl over. His hands hold your squishy thighs as you slowly sink down in a reverse cowgirl position onto his hungry face, and when as you’re close enough, Sam greedily laps up your juices, tasting the sweet nectar he so desperately wanted. Your back arches, groaning at how he satisfies your throbbing with eagerness you didn’t even know was possible. Although you know he is enjoying your squirming at his every move almost as much as you are, you cannot help but lean back down to his cock and envelop it once more.
The two of you suck at each other’s soft spots, desperate in both pleasuring and being pleasured as slopping noises are all that is heard. It’s hard for you not to stop what you are doing as his tongue quickly swirls your clit, threatening your internal explosion but the need to give him as much love as your getting takes over you, throat completely filled with his scent. Sam begins shaking, symbolising his climax taking over as he struggles to keep up his pace within you. “Let go.” You mumble as you pull away, before diving back in. As your mouth does it’s job so does your hands, Twisting and squeezing at the base until he cums right into your mouth. The warm, salty liquid shoots down your throat like a waterfall, Sam’s overstimulated body going completely weak as you take his load. Some of it clings to your lips when you pull away, but you wipe it off, getting to move off his face to give him a rest.
Clearly Sam doesn’t need it though, energy almost as high as his brain when he pulls you back down. “Beautiful girl.” He mumbles, kissing your folds over and over again. You readjust to be right on top of him this time, sinking down and rolling your hips. Your stomach tightens at the sensation, moaning as quiet as possible at how his tongue massages your clit. As he does so, his nose threatens to breach your entrance, wet juices leaking out from within.
“Oh Sam…” You moan, sensations being overridden by complete pleasure. The way his mouth rolls up and down you is like heaven, causing your vision to blur and your mind to go blank.
Sam doesn’t stop there though. Despite how close you are already, he is determined to treat you just how he dreamed it would be. His long pointer and middle finger slide into you, stretching your hole in a way you have never felt. Unexpected, but flawless. A moan comes out of your mouth much louder than you expected, head dropping down and your hands catching yourself before you fall on his toned abs. Your hips grind back and forth on him, as his hands and mouth move as fast as possible.
And that’s when it happens. Your first, true, all-encompassing orgasm. It takes over your body like a possession, sensitivity rising higher like never before. You practically slap your mouth with your hand in order to not alert the whole neighbourhood to what the two of you are doing, but the rocking of the bed as you thrust across his mouth may as well give it away. As it takes over you fully you collapse, quickly rolling off of him to lie at the foot of the bed. This overwhelming feeling is everything you missed out on, and to experience it with the man taking over your dreams for years is a paradise. Your mind runs itself in circles at this euphoric fact, exploring every possibility of the future you may have as he crawls over to you, arms enveloping your naked body. “Thank you.” He mutters, kissing your jaw.
Within his arms you feel safe, like everything is right and how it should be. You turn to kiss him back, tongue circling each other and tasting yourselves like you never have before.
Neither of you know where to go from here, or what the other is thinking, but one thing is certain. You wouldn’t complain if the rest of your life was spent like this.
#babybatss blog#sam stardew valley#stardew sam#sdv sam x reader#sdv sam#stardew valley sam#sdv sam smut#sdv sam x farmer#stardew valley#stardew valley smut
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Smoke Eater - Epilogue
Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.
🔥 Series Masterlist
AN: We made it, friends. 🥹
Word Count: 2,800 Tags/Warnings: Fluff and feels, that is all.
Epilogue: “Easy as Pie”
The week after the incident at Stull Storage, John, Sam, Dean, and Eileen sat down to a family dinner that you cooked in the brothers’ apartment. Aside from Eileen, all of you had injuries in one form or another (but even Sam’s shiner was healing up nicely).
For dessert, you were a bit nervous as you brought out a freshly baked apple pie. Dean caught you mentally bracing yourself before you set it down on the table. He shot you a reassuring smile.
“Looks great,” he said.
Your returning smile was tentative as you divvied out the first piece. Dean was just a bit disappointed when you handed it to John. His eyes followed the plate.
You smiled more genuinely, and made sure the next generous piece you cut was for your boyfriend.
After everyone was served, you sat down with your own plate and encouraged them all to dig in. Forks hit the crumbly top and cinnamon apple filling, and there were collective hums of pleasure throughout the room.
You brightened and glanced over at the rest of the table. John looked contemplative. His fork rested on the plate for a moment.
He gave a rare smile. “That’s some damn good pie.”
Sam nodded. “For sure.”
Dean looked over at you after he’d already demolished half of his serving. A smile spread across his face.
“Best slice of pie since I can remember,” he said, giving you a wink.
Both of you knew the weight of that review. It humbled you, making you blush.
You smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, rough with stubble.
“I guess this recipe’s a keeper then,” you said.
He hummed in agreement. When he went in for a real kiss, it was sweet indeed.
From then on, you all spent the evening talking, eating, laughing, with you and Sam drinking wine and everyone else their beer. You updated them on Andréa and Benny, who were planning their trip to Greece in a few months.
"We should take a vacation," Dean pointed out, gesturing around the table. "All of us."
Sam raised his brows at his brother. "Oh yeah? Where would you wanna go?"
Dean thought about it for a moment. He glanced at you, and found you smiling.
"The beach," he said. "Somewhere warm and chill, with those fancy little umbrellas in your drink."
"Hmm...I like that," you said, as your smile grew. Tropical, relaxing, a warm sun on your face, and your boyfriend in some board shorts. You could definitely go for some of that.
"Sounds nice," Eileen agreed.
"I'll look into some destinations," Sam nodded. Dean nudged his brother's shoulder.
"One word, dude. Maui."
Sam snorted. "We can't afford Maui."
"Hey, you never know, man! Time to check out some Groupons."
"You can't get a Groupon to go to Hawaii," Sam said. His face was scrunched in what Dean liked to call, his "Know It All" face.
"Are you kidding me?" Dean shot back. "There's a friggin' Groupon for everything nowadays!"
Of course, that devolved into a familiar sibling argument that was only disrupted when John broke into the conversation. He admitted something shocking—that he was taking some time off work, for the first time since he took his sons camping when they were kids. Sam and Dean teased the workaholic for finally "slowing down" in his old age, but it was all in good fun.
You and Eileen shared a knowing look. It all felt as close to family as you’d had in a long time.
And for Dean, it felt like he could breathe again. He’d gotten a text shortly after dessert—from Cas.
Jo made it into the Police Academy. She starts training in a few weeks.
Dean’s lips quirked with a smile.
How do you know?
I’ll be instructing a couple of her classes. Firearm Safety and Weapons Training.
Dean nearly laughed.
Good luck, buddy. Try not to get your ass shot.
To which Cas replied:
My ass will be nowhere within range, I assure you.
Dean did chuckle at that. When you turned to him and asked what was so funny, he just shook his head and grabbed onto your hand on the table.
“Nothin’. I’m good,” he said. He pressed your knuckles to his lips. “I’m real good.”
You smiled at that.
Later that night, Dean walked his father to the door while you and Sam were locked in a trivia game, and Eileen tried to play mediator between two very competitive nerds.
“Dad,” Dean said.
John stopped with a hand on the door, turning back to his eldest.
Dean paused to gather his thoughts, but he eventually grasped his father’s arm and met his gaze.
“Just wanted to say thank you, for what you did for her,” he said, discreetly nodding at you. He kept his voice quiet. “You protected her when I couldn’t.”
John paused, seeming surprised. His brows furrowed as he shook his head.
“You don’t need to thank me for that, son,” he said.
“Yeah, I do,” Dean insisted. He’d heard every bit of that conversation between John and Daniel in that warehouse. His father had been willing to lay down and die for you, not a moment’s hesitation.
Cas was right, Dean had realized. His father did have a line.
John let out a breath. “What matters is we made it here.”
Dean nodded, though he dimmed.
“Yeah, came with one hell of a price tag.”
It still weighed heavily on him, what he’d had to do to end Daniel Savage. In the end, John had lied on his statement of the events. He’d taken responsibility for grabbing Daniel’s gun and shooting him between the eyes.
“It’s the only thing I can do to keep you out of this,” John had told his son. “Should’ve been my hand anyway.”
Dean appreciated what his dad had done to protect him from the law, and his career, but it still made him feel dirty. A strike to his integrity as a first responder, and as a man. That was something he’d just have to deal with, along with everything else.
John distracted him, however, by gripping his shoulder this time.
“You saved my life, Dean,” he said. And with a hint of a smile, “It’s what you’re good at.”
Dean met his dad’s gaze. He wasn’t quite able to smile back, but there was new warmth in his chest.
“Oh,” said John, raising a finger. “Before I forget…”
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a silver engagement ring with a small stone. To Dean, it looked familiar…
When it finally struck him what this was, he looked up at John in surprise. Dean glanced back to make sure you weren’t looking before he tentatively took the ring.
“Is this…Mom’s?” he asked.
John nodded. “The stone’s nothing special. You might wanna get it reset. Sam already figured out his uh…situation on his own. Maybe you want to find your own too.”
Dean knew what he meant. Sam had bought a ring last year, but he'd proposed to Eileen just a few days ago. They were already planning to get married a year from now, along with buying their first house together.
Dean examined the ring he held with a softer smile.
“Nah, it’s perfect,” he said.
He didn’t know yet if you two were ready for that step. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time…but he knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
He had time to do things right with you.
A few months later, Dean’s medical leave ended. He was physician-approved for duty, psych evaluation and all. He showed up for his shift bright and early.
He entered the doors of Firehouse 25 to a host of his friends and makeshift family cheering, complete with cheesy streamers and an even cheesier cake that Meg held. On the top was scrawled: Good Job Cracking Your Head.
“A smoke eater returns to the house!” Benny remarked with a grin. “Good to see ya, brother.”
He clapped Dean heavily enough on the back that it earned a grunt and a laugh out of him.
“You too, man,” Dean replied.
Meg set down the cake on the table and was the next one to playfully punch him in the shoulder.
“You have a nice little vacation?” she teased.
Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, complete with bottomless margaritas and little umbrellas.”
She smirked, but she was still earnest when she touched his arm.
“Welcome back.”
Dean chuckled. “Ooh, now I know you missed me.”
It was her turn to roll her eyes as she waved a dismissive hand at him. Chuck and Jack gave more sincere well wishes, with the latter actually hugging Dean. He’d tolerated it with a smile.
Gordon clapped him on the shoulder once Jack was finally done, and Dean sent the Candidate off with a bright smile on his face.
Gordon smiled. “Welcome back, Lieutenant.”
Dean nodded and shook the other man’s hand. “Thanks for holdin’ down the fort, man.”
“No problem,” Gordon said. “Any time you wanna go on sabbatical, you just let me know. Acting Lieutenant’s almost better than the real deal. It’s not as much paperwork.”
Dean chuckled, but before he could sling back a retort, the alarm went off. There was a working house fire downtown, according to the dispatcher in the overhead speaker.
Bobby appeared in the hall and clapped his hands once.
“All right, gear up. We’re startin’ off the day right,” he said. He gave Dean a look that was somehow both pleased to see him and stern at the same time. Bobby addressed him with a point of his finger.
“See me in my office before the end of shift,” he said. “We’ve got somethin’ to talk about.”
A few days later, Dean had the rare pleasure of welcoming you home from work on his day off. You trudged into the apartment with several bags and rolling a cooler behind you. He got up from the couch and grabbed some of the bags for you on your way to the kitchen.
“How did it go?” he asked, reaching out a hand to rub some flour off your cheek. You smiled brightly.
“Well, there was a little snafu with the mini quiche, but they loved the menu I proposed. They want me to cater the whole wedding!” you said.
“Whoa, that’s a lotta food,” Dean remarked. Once you’d dumped the rest of your stuff on the kitchen table, he slid an arm around your waist and brought you flush against him, earning a squeal from you.
You clung to his shoulders. “You still on for being my official taste tester?”
He stared at you with mock offense.
“Uh, obviously. Mini quiche are my weakness,” he teased. “Just another form of pie, far as I’m concerned.”
You giggled into his lips as he claimed you for a kiss. It was both sweet, and a bit naughty as his hands moved to squeeze your ass. His words were no less heartfelt.
“I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” Dean said. “I really am.”
You smiled and stroked his cheek in answer.
The Monday morning after that family dinner a few months ago, you’d quit your job at Savage & Co. After a month of wracking your brain and your savings, you decided to start your own catering business.
It was your way of starting small, to try and get people in this town to know you for your food and baked goods. And maybe, if you were successful enough, you’d be able to open up your own bakery in a couple of years.
For once, you were going after what you truly wanted…but now, your career was only part of it.
You hadn’t forgotten your conversation with Dean about what he wanted for his future: of getting married someday, and having a family. Something he could build for himself.
Not only did you want that for him, but you’d begun to crave that for yourself as well: a family of your own.
Realistically, you knew that part was years away for you and Dean. However, you had that in the back of your mind. Having your own business had always been your dream, but sometimes your dream could adjust.
Or, it could become something new.
You’d also sold your grandparents’ house. You had contemplated going back, but you didn’t want to be reminded of how the police and the Arson Department had torn it apart after Daniel Savage threatened your life. You didn’t want to be reminded of where both of your grandparents died.
You loved that house, but you also knew it was time to let it go…
Because you finally understood what your grandfather had tried to tell you months ago.
A house did not make a home. And now, you’d managed to make a new one.
For his part, Dean had been happy to have you stay in his apartment. Sam was getting ready to move out in a few months anyway, as he and Eileen were deep into house hunting and planning their wedding.
“So…I’ve gotta tell you something,” said Dean, after he parted from your lips for a moment, and allowed you to breathe. His tone made you tilt your head in suspicion.
“It’s nothing bad,” he said, though he looked a bit nervous.
Your brows furrowed. You led him to the couch, where he held your hands in his. It took him a moment to get started. He seemed stuck on what he wanted to say, or maybe just how he wanted to say it.
“Whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it,” you teased.
Dean gave you a smile. His shoulders relaxed a little.
“They want to promote me to Captain,” he said.
Your mouth fell open and your eyes went wide.
“They? Who’s they?” you asked.
Dean blew out a breath and scratched at the small scar on the side of his head.
“Apparently it came from the Battalion Chief.”
He explained that the Fire Department had gotten the full debrief from both Sam and John about Dean’s involvement in ending the serial arsons and murders committed by Nick and Daniel Savage. Without you and Dean, they wouldn’t have figured out Azazel’s identity, let alone stopped his criminal enterprise.
You smiled wide with excitement as you held Dean’s face in your hands.
“That’s amazing!” you said. You pulled him in for a hug. Though he held you back, you soon realized that you were happier than he seemed to be. You pulled back and carded your fingers through his hair, earning his gaze.
“What’s wrong, baby? This is great news!”
Dean’s lips pursed. “I don’t know. I broke ranks and defied a direct order at the Savage & Co. fire. And at the warehouse, I was even more reckless. I don’t want to be promoted for disobeying orders.”
You frowned at that, even as you continued to stroke through his hair.
“What did Bobby tell you?” you asked.
Once again, Dean sighed. He’d been called into Bobby’s office a few days ago, after his first shift back at 25.
He’d surprised the hell out of Dean.
“Did you break ranks that day, and put not just yourself, but Benny and the rest of your men in danger?” Bobby said. “You bet your ass.”
Dean averted his gaze. He stood with his hands drawn behind his back, willing to take whatever punishment the Chief saw fit.
“But,” Bobby continued. His fingers tapped on his desk, where he sat on the edge across from Dean. “It wasn’t fair of me to stop you from lookin’ for your girlfriend.”
Dean’s attention sharpened at that, and he frowned in confusion. Bobby didn’t apologize. Ever.
“Sir?” Dean asked uncertainly.
Bobby softened the slightest bit. He heaved a sigh.
The man was a widower, but he still wore his wedding ring. He toyed with it now on his finger.
“We could’ve radioed in with the other teams already at work. I could’ve paired half of your team with the top floor units. But in the heat of the moment, I made a judgment call,” Bobby said, leveling Dean with a look. “As a leader, you’ll continue makin’ mistakes. You’ll make the wrong call. It’s how you learn to keep leading that matters. And there ain’t a person in this house that wouldn’t have gone up to pull your fool head outta that fire.”
Dean stayed quiet in his discomfort. He still wasn’t entirely sure why Bobby was telling him all of this.
“That being said, this is coming from the top,” Bobby said. His gruffness was back. He took a folder off his desk and handed it to Dean. “Here’s the next step, if you choose to accept it.”
You were crying by the end of his story. Dean cupped your cheek and caught your tears with his thumb. You grabbed that hand and gently squeezed.
“He believes in you, Dean,” you said. “So do I. And it’s my turn to be so damn proud of you.”
Dean graced you with a smile for that one. Yours brightened. You moved off the couch and slid into his lap, twining your arms around his neck. Dean welcomed you with an arm around your waist and a hand sliding up your jean-clad thigh.
“Guess I’m gonna have to get used to calling you Captain,” you said with a smirk.
Captain Winchester, Dean considered, rolling the weight of it around in his mind.
He chuckled. “Okay, maybe I'm liking the sound of that.”
“Mhmm, that’s what I thought,” you said, shortly before you pressed your lips to his. He squeezed your hip while your deft fingers once again slipped into his hair. With each new kiss, Dean felt more of his uncertainty melt away.
A new thought occurred to him then. It made him start to grin against your lips, and you parted from him.
“What?” you asked in amusement.
Dean slipped a hand into his pocket, where he felt the outline of his mother’s newly resized ring.
“Hey,” he said. Your brows drew together in suspicion at the gleam in his eye.
“Hey, yourself,” you quipped.
Dean breathed in deep, steeling himself. He looked into your eyes, and he smiled.
“I’ve got a question for you.”
AN: ...And I think we all know what her answer was. ❤️🔥
I can't believe it! I started posting this story on September 15, the beginning of Hispanic Heritage Month. Almost four months later, we finally made it to the end of Smoke Eater. 🥹
Thank you to all of you who've been following along at any point of the journey. Your comments and feedback have truly touched me, and have helped keep me going! 💕
Read the Sequel Story:
Ready for more Smoke Eater?
Here's Something Real:
Summary: Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…
▶️ Keep Reading: Something Real
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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#Easy as Pie#Smoke Eater#Epilogue#dean winchester#Firefighter!Dean Winchester#dean winchester x reader#Dean Winchester x female reader#firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader#dean winchester x you#firefighter AU#dean winchester AU#spn#supernatural#john winchester#sam winchester#Castiel#zepskies writes
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Coach [r.k.]{kd12}
Dirty talk / breath play
Cw: coach!Roy Kent, coworkers, inappropriate use of coach, lots of kissing, p in v, teasing, swearing, rough sex, mentions of shower sex, implied age gap (though not large), mutual pining
Moving across the world to chase a childhood dream, per request of your brother’s football coach, had been working out so far.
Futbol had always been your passion, you would get up at odd hours to watch your favorite teams, and your favorite player perform, even begging for channel packages so you could watch matches live. So when Coach Lasso offered you a position on his coaching staff for Richmond, the landing place for your favorite grumpy futbol player, you jumped on it.
Ted had an incredible ability to make everyone around him cherish life a little bit more every single day and life in England really did cast a spell on your small town American heart.
Roy, had been full of surprises himself. You and your dad used to bond over his no nonsense attitude, and his passion that was evident in the way he left his entire life on the pitch every single game, even the occasional meltdown.
Meeting him had been difficult at first, but during your first conversation you quickly established yourself as something more than a baseball fan, or as he put it so nonchalantly “a pretty face.”
You always had a crush on him, sure he was a bit older than you but his personality was addicting, and the subtle nuances of his love for the boys didn’t go unnoticed. You once watched him talk Danny through his emotions after a movie night where the team had gathered together to watch When Harry Met Sally. He helped Jamie grow to his full potential, albeit through gritted teeth, but he did it because as shy as he was to admit it, Richmond had become his home.
“Mmmmm.” Roy Grumbled as he walked into the coaches office. You sitting at your desk on the other side of the room from him, his fist clenched as he threw himself into a chair across from you with a grunt.
“What happened this time?” You half expected some Blaise excuse like his car getting dinged by the kitmans bike.
He looked across the desk at you, giving you a small eye roll. Mumbling back at you, he replied. “Players. Don’t show up properly to train. Don’t focus on the exercise, just a pain in my ass really.”
You hum in agreement, “I know, if only we were still allowed to bend them over a desk maybe you could return the favor.” You taunt, with just a hint of warmth in your cheeks, unable to stop the out of pocket phrase.
“If only.” He joked back to you, his grumpy tone now changed to something more lighthearted with a small grin. “I swear sometimes they try to do this stuff on purpose just to mess with me- And what am I even supposed to do with a player who can’t even get their kit on right. Sam had his shirt on backwards, the hell are we supposed to do with that?” He let out a frustrated groan, running his hand through his hair.
You chuckle, “Do you really think they do it on purpose just to fuck with you? I know I enjoy watching you get all grumbly.” Mumble with just a hint of suggestiveness in your voice, but shifting your attention back to the tape you’re cutting into a highlight reel for tomorrow’s practice.
“They better not be doing it on purpose.” He huffed and crossed his arms. “Or I swear I’ll be out there making them do extra drills after their extra drills. I swear if they wanna mess with me they’re really not gonna like my attitude tomorrow.” He leaned forward, and given the threatening tone his voice still never raised at you. He was always respectful of your space, and never would do anything to intimidate you on purpose.
You smile, clearly enjoying the grumpiness of him today, and tease him just a hair further, “Easy old man, I don’t want you to waste all that energy on the boys.” I say in a coy and insinuating to save some for me with a short pause, before continuing “We have a yoga class we can’t miss.”
His eyes widened for a brief moment, surprised by the comment and the tone you used. He could tell your were teasing, but it didn’t stop the thought from popping into his mind about saving energy for you. “Oh shush.” He replied, his tone trying to act as if he was unaffected, but the way his breath went a little faster said otherwise, “I’m looking forward to it.”
You’ve been flirting with each other for weeks, getting along better than most people typically do with Roy at least right off the bat, and the reality of it is you think when Roy is sexy when he’s angry. “Everyone needs an outlet for stress, I like yoga among other things.”
He let out a breath, his arms still crossed as he looked at you across the room. “I swear we’re supposed to be professional.” He mumbled with a bit of a chuckle and rolling his eyes, as he knew both him and you weren’t exactly doing the best job at being professional.
You smile knowingly, “I have reason to believe we wouldn’t be the first ones to break that rule.” I look at him up and down, not trying to hide my intention anymore, watching the veins in his neck strain, longing to make them pop.
He raised an eyebrow, listening to your suggestion. He couldn’t deny that the idea was tempting, and it would definitely relieve some of the frustration he had. He stared at you for a moment, considering the suggestion, before finally speaking. “Are you propositioning me?” He smirked, crossing his arms again with a raised eyebrow, still playing a bit coy, but the twist of his mouth is stuck in place.
You shrug, simply stating, “You know how much I like you, I think we’d have good chemistry off the pitch.”
He chuckled a bit at your words, the idea of ‘relieving stress’ with you becoming even more tempting. He knew that there was chemistry, everyone could tell in the locker room. The way you always seemed to make him laugh and feel lighter, while also managing to send his heart race with your playful teasing. He was tempted, not for the first time. He smirked again and tilted his head to the side. “You think so?” He taunted, his voice low. Leaning just a bit closer to your desk.
You hum again, standing slowly and circling the desk, perching on the edge and getting a close as you’ve ever been to him apart from a few celebratory hugs during matches. “You know what helps me relax?”
He smirked, the sound you made already sending a chill down his spine. He was already sold on the idea, but seeing you move to the front of the desk and letting out that phrase definitely sealed the deal. He walked closer to you slowly, moving around the desk until he was standing in front of you. “Enlighten me.” He said smoothly.
“A nice warm shower…” you reach out slowly, giving him every opportunity to move before you touch his chest gently with a lifted eyebrow in question.
He let out a breath as you reached out, his heart beginning to pound in his chest at the idea of finally getting to do something with you. He watched you closely, eyes following your hand to his chest. He had no intention of moving, wanting to keep this going.
A small smirk appeared on his face as he watched you. “A nice warm shower,” He said, taking another step forward.
He chuckled softly, leaning forward slightly, so he was standing right in front of you. “You are a tease, you know that?” He said in a low tone, his hands going to the edge of the desk on either side of you, caging you against it. “A right little tease.”
Him being so close to you is intoxicating, you can smell the oil he puts in his beard, he smells like sage and sweat. Your breath picking up as the anticipation of his touch draws closer, you look down into his dark brown eyes.
The sight of you enjoying this was almost enough to make him snap. He leaned in closer, his breath fanning across your face. “You like getting this reaction out of me, don’t you? Teasing me, making me want you?” He murmured, voice low and rough.
“Yes,” you pant, your hands twisting in your lap. “I have a feeling you’re rough in all aspects of your life.”
He chuckled breathlessly, his heart pounding even faster as you confirmed his suspicions. God, the thought of the two of you doing other things together was almost enough to make his brain short circuit. He took a moment to regain his focus, trying to respond in a way that wasn’t just a bunch of stutters and breathless words. “Is that right?” He replied softly. “You’re just dying to know the reaction you’d get from me in other situations, ehh?”
I smirk, leaning forward so our lips brush ever so slightly breathless, “So how about that shower?”
The slight brush of lips alone was enough to send a shiver down his spine. God, he was already a mess, and it was all your fault. He could feel the desire and need running through his veins. He let out a short huff, his hands gripping the edge of the desk tighter. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He whispered huskily. “Let’s go.”
Your faces meet, coming together in a clash of teeth and hunger, your lips moving against each others in a frenzy.
Roy groaned into the kiss, his hands quickly moving from the desk to grip your hips as your mouths pressed together. He allowed you to dominate the kiss for a moment, letting you lick into his mouth, his eyes closing as he enjoyed it.
After a moment, he began to grow more aggressive, his tongue meeting yours hungrily and his hands pulling you closer against him. You groan eagerly, feeling the tight grip on his hands all over your body. Partially wondering if you’ll even make it off your desk.
He let out another quiet moan as your hands moved to grip his hair, the feeling sending a spark of pleasure through him. He broke the kiss for a moment, only to begin trailing kisses up and down your jawline.
He nipped and sucked the skin, leaving a trail of love bites along the side of your neck. One of his large, rough hands snuck up under the hem of your shirt, wanting to feel your skin.
His hands are calloused and warm, and part of you should care that he’s leaving a trail of marks in the wake of his mouth but if you weren’t lying the idea of wearing these mark, his marks, in front of so many people makes your pussy throb in need.
Roy’s hands come down to your hips, squeezing and pushing more of his body against yours, you can feel the hard outline of his need in his trousers.
Roy runs a hand over your ribs, and you shudder in response. “How much longer is training?” You say, as you throw your head back and begin kicking off your shoes.
“Half hour, then Beard is holding a checkers competition in the team room.” He lifts your shirt up and over your head, “we’ve got your office to ourselves for at least an hour, we’ll have to be quiet to keep the kit man away,” he kisses you again, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra,”You can be a good girl and keep quiet yeah?”
“Yes coach.” You pull away, to free him from his shirt, and pressing your chests together. “Tell me what you wanna do to me.”
“Fucking minx.” He swears fingers finding your nipple and tugging on it harshly, “Filthy fucking thing calling me coach.” His eyes are dark with desire, breath hot and full of desire. “I’m gonna fuck you on this desk.”
His fingers dip into the waistband of your joggers, grabbing fistfuls of your ass as he envelops you with his mouth again. You moan coach, against the press of his mouth.
As you repeat the title, calling him coach again, he groans against your skin. His hips press forward, practically grinding himself against you for a moment to get some much needed friction, a low hiss slipping from his lips. He pulls back, his breath coming out in short huffs as he looks you in the eye.
“Say it again. Keep calling me coach.” He practically growls out. He pushes your paperwork onto the floor, urging you to lay further back onto the desk and to give him space to remove your clothes.
You comply, leaning back and lifting your hips so that he can pull the soft material from your legs. Looking down between your legs he sees a sizable patch of wet fabric clinging to your skin.
“Fucking filthy girl, you want this cunt filled don’t you?” He lets the pad of his thumb tap your clit through the thin cloth of your panties, and your eyes all but roll back into your head.
You nod vigorously, feeling so hot and dazed, knuckles clinging to the edge of your desk. Catching a glimpse of the sizable bulge in his trousers, you reach down to slip your hand around him.
He continues to press a finger to your clit, and takes a hand and twists into your hair tugging from the root. You hiss in pain, squeezing his shaft in response to the pain, “Please coach.”
His resolve breaks, pushing the top of his trousers down just enough to let himself fall free. In a single breath the head of his cock is working you open and his hips saw back and forth stretching you around his size.
Once he’s bottomed out, he pauses for a moment. Taking in the way your mouth is parted in a pant, and the way the muscles in your legs quiver around his waist.
“You said rough yeah? Tell me if you need me to stop.” He said, sober as a saint for a second making sure to establish himself as in control but giving you what you need to feel comfortable.
You nod, biting your lip as he shifts his heels to angle his hips up, he hits something inside you that makes you squeak.
His large palm wraps around your throat, squeezing the artery there and making your brain lull into the field of pleasure he gives you.
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