#sam x female reader insert

[supernotnatural2005]

'Ride em' Cowgirl'

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY, swearing, fluff.

AN: Here it is, the requested part 2 of my 'Giddy up Cowboy' Drabble. I'm blown away by all of the love and support on my work lately and had to give you something tasteful in return for all your lovely appreciation. I hope you enjoy ☺️

Tagging: @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog and @rizlowwritessortof

Main Masterlist

The ride back to the motel feels like an eternity. The engine of the Impala hums beneath you, a comforting sound you’ve grown used to over the past few months of hunting with the Winchesters. But tonight, that familiar hum does little to calm the storm that’s building in the air between you and Dean.

Sam sits in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the electricity crackling in the space between you and his older brother. His head is turned slightly, eyes focused on his phone as he scrolls through something, probably researching the next hunt. He’s completely oblivious, lost in his world, but you and Dean? You're both caught up in something far more dangerous.

You shift in your seat, the leather of the Impala's interior squeaking slightly beneath you, but it’s nothing compared to the way your body is reacting to the proximity of Dean, to the memory of the words you said back at the bar. "I think I can ride him better." The double meaning of the comment, the tease that you’d laid on him, was still hanging heavily in the air.

You glance at him, his profile visible from the corner of your eye. His jaw is tight, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too hard, and you can’t help but notice the way his bicep flexes with the tension. The urge to reach over and touch him, to bridge that last bit of space between you, is almost overwhelming.

Sam’s voice pulls you from your thoughts as he glances over his shoulder, a slight grin on his face. “You two are awfully quiet. You sure everything’s alright?”

Dean clears his throat, his voice low, a little too steady. “Yeah, we’re fine, Sammy. Just tired.”

Sam nods, not catching the edge in his brother’s voice, and goes back to whatever he’s reading on his phone. You, however, catch the way Dean’s eyes flicker to you—a brief glance, but enough to make your pulse quicken. You feel that familiar heat rise between you both, the kind that only the two of you understand.

Every mile feels like it stretches on forever. You catch Dean’s gaze again, and this time, his eyes linger a little longer, something raw and unspoken in them. You know he’s struggling to keep his composure, just as you are.

Finally, the motel comes into view. The neon lights of the sign flicker, the soft hum of the parking lot filling the quiet car. Sam lets out a loud yawn and stretches, oblivious to the way the tension between you and Dean has reached its breaking point.

“Man, I’m pretty beat.” Sam says, giving you both a tired smile as he climbs out of the car. You and Dean follow suit, both of you stepping out with a quiet but unmistakable urgency.

Dean’s hand brushes against yours as he walks you to your room—just a few doors before his and Sam’s, and it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine. You both stand there for a moment, looking at your motel room door in front of you, the unspoken weight of everything you've both been avoiding for so long finally sinking in. 

Sam walks on ahead, muttering something about needing to “hit the hay,” and you both watch as he disappears into the room before Dean turns to you, his voice low and controlled. 

"You weren’t kidding earlier, huh?”

"No," you say, your voice just above a whisper, because you can’t take it anymore, and it’s enough to send the heat between you two spiralling. "I wasn’t.”

Dean doesn’t need any more encouragement. He moves first, closing the distance between you two with a single, decisive step. His lips crash against yours, hard and desperate—like he’s been holding back everything he’s been feeling for far too long. 

His mouth is warm and insistent, and you open up to him instinctively, your hands finding their way to the open fabric of his flannel, pulling him even closer. 

You moan into the kiss, clinging to him as if he were your last source of oxygen. Consuming what he was willing to give as long as he was willing to give it. Dean’s hands slide down to your hips, gripping hard enough to leave small fingerprint indents when your tongue slides past his lips. His responding groan is low, bordering on a growl, and he walks you back against your door, his hands unable to stay in one place for too long. 

His touch, his scent, and his delectable mouth were quickly descending you into a state of ecstasy. You were already hooked and desperate for more. 

“Inside.” You mumble against his lips, and he offers you a curt nod before he breaks the kiss, allowing you a moment to breathe as you turn to unlock your door. He’s already pressing himself against you from behind, his hands wandering from your hips to boldly cupping your breasts over your thin t-shirt, beneath your jacket.

It takes you until your third try before you finally stumble inside. Dean quick to kick the door shut with his foot as he ravishes your neck with wet kisses and thumbs at your pebbled nipples poking through your lace bra, risen from both his ministrations and the cool air.

You push back against him and gasp at the feel of his obvious arousal through his jeans. His reaction to you sent a thrill of excitement through you as well as a feeling of pride swelling in your chest. 

"Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. Wanted you.” Dean pants into your neck as you roll your hips against him. He presses into you with each roll, making his eyes roll back and his hands move to find purchase on your hips again. 

“I think I have some notion.” You quip with one last push back against him before turning in his arms. You offer him a sly smile and look up at him through your lashes as you trail and hand down his firm chest and over his toned stomach before cupping him through his jeans. His hips instinctively thrust into your palm, and you grant him some relief by adding pressure and rubbing your hand along his length. 

His gaze is stormy as he looks down at you, watching you watch your own hand grope him in wonder. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. Suddenly, he pulls your hand from him, the feeling both incredible yet frustratingly not enough, and you look up at him in question, but he’s quick to reclaim your lips again. 

The urgency from before is back with a vengeance as you claw at each other’s clothes, peeling away layers upon layers between heated kisses, until finally, you’re left in nothing but your panties, and Dean in his boxers. 

His gaze roams over you unapologetically, taking in every curve and scar; your heaving breasts on display with a hunger you’d never seen in another man's eyes before. But there was more behind his desire. There was a look of longing, of wanting this for so long and finally having it, simmering within those pools of green. And you understood. Because you felt the exact same. 

As if in sync, you reached for one another again. Dean’s hands framed your face as he dipped down to kiss you again. This time softer, more tender, making you all but melt into his arms. He walked you backwards, never parting his lips from yours, until the backs of your thighs met the edge of the mattress. 

You pulled away from him then and climbed up onto the bed, with him quickly following, crawling up and over you like a predator stalking his prey. Your head fell back onto the pillows as his firm body covered yours, his mouth quickly attaching itself to your neck, kissing, sucking, and nibbling at the tender flesh until you were bucking your hips up against him. 

He smirks into your neck, loving the fact you were so reactive to him, even by the simplest of touches. He decides to give you some relief and trails his mouth down your body, stopping at your chest. He waited for you to look at him, his warm breath fanning over your perked nipple, and only when you finally meet his gaze does he wrap his lips around your pebbled nub. 

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, watching his eyes fall shut as he sucked and nibbled at your nipple. The sensation was almost overwhelming, and your hips ground for any kind of friction to relieve the building ache between your legs. Your hand slid into his hair, pulling harshly at the soft spikes atop his head, making him groan, and the vibration sent tiny shocks of pleasure throughout your nerve endings. 

He moves onto your other breast, the wetness of your abandoned nipple cooling against the air conditioning unit, softly buzzing in the background, the feeling only adding to the incredible pleasure his mouth was giving your other breast. 

“Fuck, Dean.” You gasp, just as his left hand trailed down your side and sneakily slipped into your panties. Two of his thick digits were quick to find your clit and you shuddered from the contact. He begins to circle your bundle of nerves slowly, much like the motion of his tongue against your nipple. 

You fist his hair again, moaning loudly as he dips an experimental finger into your soaked hole, gathering your wetness and resuming his attention back on your clit. 

“You’re so wet, baby.” He grunts against your chest, frowning in concentration as he picks up his pace. “That all for me?” All you could do was nod and then cry out as his fingers rubbed you faster, sending jolts of pleasure down to the tips of your toes, which soon curled as your body began to tense. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You repeated it like a mantra, the coil in your belly wound tight and ready to spring. 

“That’s it, baby. Cum all over my fingers.” He husks in your ear, and you look down your body, watching the muscles in his forearm dance with effort from the maddening pace of the hand buried deep in your underwear. The sight was your undoing, and your whole body stiffened. Mouth dropping open in a silent scream, the sound trapped in your throat as your body convulsed and shuddered against him. 

Dean’s hand began to slow with your descent into bliss, coming to a complete stop once you deflated back onto the mattress, completely boneless. 

“Holy shit.” You huffed with an incredulous chuckle because, holy shit. You’re not even sure you’d ever come so hard with your own hand. And if just his fingers could bring you so much pleasure, it left you wondering what else you were in store for. Although you didn’t have to wonder for much longer when Dean shifted beside you and you felt the straining press of his cock against your thigh. 

You turned to him and cupped his cheek with your right hand, pulling him into a slow and sensuous, grateful kiss. He hummed happily against your lips as you rolled him onto his back. His arms coming up to wrap around you, to keep you close as you took his breath away. 

With him distracted, you grasped his tented length, massaging him as best you could through the fabric of his boxers. He broke the kiss and dropped his head back against the pillows, eyes shut tight as you relieved some of the pressure. 

You smiled devilishly at him and rose to your knees beside him. He watched you in wonder as you peeled the last item of clothing from him, helping you by lifting his hips. Your eyes widened in both shock and amazement at the sight of him. Your mouth watered and pussy throbbed, desperate for a taste, for the feel of him inside you. 

You gathered him in your hand, relishing in the warm weight of his impressive cock. Dean released a deep sigh at the feel of your delicate hand slowly, teasingly pumping him. He was as hard as granite, throbbing in your hand, and you marvelled at the way your simple movements had him panting, wanting and desperate beneath you. 

Laying comfortably between his parted thighs, You ran your tongue along the length of him. The deep, responsive moan from him giving you the encouragement to do it again and again until he was slick with your saliva and fisting the sheets beneath him tight. 

“Holy.. shit.” Dean gasped as you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his silky head before sinking your mouth onto him. The action brought with it a salty tang and a variety of praises and profanities. Between your legs, a new wave of wetness coated your already ruined underwear as you worked him over in your mouth and with your hand. 

Looking up at him, he was a sight to behold. His skin glistening, chest heaving, sinful lips parted, and eyes squeezed shut. He was beautiful in every scenario it seemed. 

“Oh God.” Dean’s eyes snapped open then, his body tensing, and he quickly sat up, pulling you from him. You looked at him alarmed, wiping at the spit collected at the corners of your mouth. 

“What? What’’s wrong?” You lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to take a few deep breaths before he released a breathless chuckle.

“You were about to make me cum.” He told you honestly, and you blushed a little, but wondered why he’d stopped you? 

“And?” You giggled softly, though squeaked, when he suddenly manhandled you into his lap. You had to bite back a groan at the feel of his hard length bumping against you through your panites. 

“And? I was promised a ride.” His voice is low and sultry, but his face is filled with his usual boyish, giddy excitement. You giggled and shook your head, realising you’d somehow fallen for a complete dork. 

You cup his scruffy cheeks in your palms and plant a warm kiss against his lips, the smiles on your faces quickly fading as your tongue swept against his, reigniting the ache between your legs and the need for more. 

You reluctantly pull away and slide off of him, removing and kicking away your underwear before climbing back onto him. He welcomes you eagerly, claiming your mouth once again with a kiss filled with passion and ignition. 

You slowly guide him onto his back and pull away breathless. His hands slide from your back to your hips as you sit up, grinning down at him. His green eyes look up at you, dark and entranced, roaming over every inch of you in amazement. 

You bite down on your lip as you settle against him, the wet seam of your pussy covering his length, making you both groan at the contact. You roll your hips experimentally, your head falling back as you steadied yourself against his firm stomach, picking up your pace until you were slick and ready. 

“Fuck sweetheart. You’re a dream.” Dean says breathlessly and with an honest gaze. You smirk down at him, slowing your roll, and he watches you. 

“I think it’s time I make do on that promise.” You tell him. “Think I can last the full 90 minutes?” You tease, and Dean chuckles, rubbing lovingly at your thighs, hips, and up your sides. 

“I have no doubts, baby.” 

In one swift movement, you rise up on your knees and grasp his length, angling him just right before you sink down onto him. Both of your mouths drop open in respective pleasure. You’re slick enough to take him most of the way, only rocking gently a few times until he’s fully sheathed. 

“Fuuck.” He moans, and it’s long and drawn out because Dean can’t quite fathom the feeling of you wrapped tightly around him. He’s been to heaven, hell, and everything in between, but this was something else entirely. The best pie he’d ever tasted, the feeling he got behind the wheel of baby—all things paling in comparison to this moment.

Once the initial stretch of him blurred from pain into pleasure, did you then rise up and slowly slide back down, gasping in almost disbelief at the incredible feel of him inside you. You repeated the movement again and again until you built up a steady rhythm, rocking, rolling, and grinding your hips to find the most intense spots of pleasure. 

All the while Dean let you ride him, watching in awe as you did in fact “ride him better." However, to give you a challenge, he bucked his hips up into you, meeting you thrust for thrust. You held on tightly, eyes rolling back at the much harsher thrusts hitting you just right, but you weren’t about to let him win. 

With one hand firmly planted on his chest, you leaned back, reaching your arm around to fondle his balls. Dean jolted in surprise but moaned deep and loud as you gently caressed them in your palm. You smiled in triumph as he relinquished his thrusts, and you sped up your movements, feeling his balls draw tight. 

“Oh, fuck, oh shit.” His words were breathless and strained as his body tensed, brow furrowing, hands gripping tight onto your hips as he came. Hard. You felt his warm seed coat your walls along with a long, deep groan as you circled your hips, milking every last drop. 

You grinned down at him as he collapsed back onto the bed, panting hard and weightless. You could feel him still twitching inside you, and you involuntary clenched at the sensation, making his head pop back up to look at you. 

His eyes were wild, his chest flushed red, and wordlessly he slid a hand over to your lower stomach, his thumb pressing against your sensitive clit, making you gasp. Dean’s eyes closed at the feeling of you clenching around him but began circling your clit with the digit, watching on in admiration as you slowly rocked your hips into his hand, chasing your own sweet release. 

Dean was a generous lover, but you’d given him a run for his money in that department tonight. It was only common curtesy he had you come again. Even if your pussy was all but strangling his sensitive cock, it felt incredible—a sensation he’d never felt before. He could feel himself hardening again at just the sight and feel of you, surprising you as much as himself. 

“Oh God.” You cried out, your walls fluttering around him as you ground into his hand, his thumb flicking against your clit, harder and faster until you were shaking above him. Then he thrust his hips up, once, twice, three times, and you were falling apart. Your body tensed and twitched above him, your mouth falling open in a silent cry as the white hot pleasure of your orgasm rippled through you.  

“Shit.” Your eyes popped open when you felt it. Warmth spread inside you for a second time as Dean cried out in painful pleasure. Holy shit was all that you could comprehend as he tensed beneath you. 

Shocked silence filled the room as you both stared at one another, catching your breaths, until a chuckle of disbelief slipped from his lips, triggering your own laughter.  

You fell onto his chest, letting his soft cock slip from you with a slight hiss from him. You soothed a hand a long his chest, planting a sweet kiss there before leaning up and coming face to face with him. 

"So, was I…Better?” You wondered curiously, whilst absently playing with his mused, sweat slicked hair. Dean grinned in response and cupped your jaw tenderly. 

"Oh, you so were." He replied before pulling your lips to his. 

AN: Okay so this one was just pure smut! 😂 but let me know what you think? Was this a good tie up for these two 👀

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡When They Realised That They Loved You｡⋆.

Team free will x plus size reader (separately)

Warnings: smut, lil bit of angst, fluff, (somehow Dean’s isn’t the angsty one), undefined relationship (Dean), mention of scars, sam detoxing off demon blood, childhood friends to strangers to ?, heartbreak, pain, mention of torture and pain and Dean’s death, sam being sad, gentleness, Ruby can catch these hands, seemingly unrequited love on both sides, a kid being lost, castiel being stupidly in love and not knowing what to do with himself, humanity being good WC: 3.8k

Minors DNI

A/N: One assignment left baby!!

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Dean- When you were the only person he could let his walls down with

You weren’t exactly a hunter but you also weren’t exactly a civilian. You were… something else. You could shoot, recite an exorcism backwards and outdrink the most seasoned hunter but you also were stationary, paid your taxes, even had a retirement fund and to Dean, you were safe. And a damn good lay at that.

“That’s it baby. Move those hips for me.” Your nails bit into the muscles of his chest as you lifted yourself up on shaky legs, then slammed back down onto his cock. Dean hissed and bit down on his lip, desperately trying to keep his eyes open to watch you fall apart just one more time before he succumbs to the blinding pleasure he could only find with you.

“It’s too much, Dean.” You wailed but continued to roll your hips downwards like you didn’t even think of stopping. His hands clamped down on the meat of your plush thighs as you tightened impossibly around his thick cock.

“Fuck, baby. I know you’re close; just come for me. Cum, and I’ll give you what you want.” He planted his feet onto your bed and thrust upwards, hitting that one spot inside you he knew made your brain turn into TV static. “Thaaaaat’s it. That’s my girl.” He cooed as you slumped forwards, your mindless babbling only serving to spur him on even more.

You tucked your face into his neck, kissing and licking at his skin like you wanted to swallow him whole. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and pounded into you even deeper. Your soft body trembled against him as you tumbled into your final orgasm of the night, your cunt fluttering around him like it was made for him.

“Dean. Cum inside me.” You managed to gasp out as you rode the last waves of your high. Dean snarled and pushed himself in as deep as he could go as the dam finally broke and he succumbed to his own end. You moaned softly at the feeling of his cum filling you up. 

Dean relaxed back down into the mattress, your body a comfortable weight on top of his, easing away the pain inside him. He ran his hand down the length of your back, coming to rest on the gentle swell of your ass. “You good sweetheart?”

A quiet giggle vibrated through your chest. “I think I saw god, I am more than good Deanie.”

He rolled his eyes as he guided you to lay down next to him, his softening cock slipping from your warm walls. “How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“How many times have I told you not to wear your boots in the house?” You retorted with a jab to his ribs, quickly followed by a loving kiss against his lips. His heart skipped a beat as he wrapped a strong arm around your thick waist, pressing deeper into the kiss. You let out a pleased sound that made his spent cock twitch in interest.

But all too soon, you pulled away and laid your head down on his shoulder.

It felt so domestic, so real. If he just shut his eyes he could almost imagine that this was your shared home; a place for him to just be without the worry of saving the world or protecting Sammy, that maybe he could have a lawn to mow and tedious chores that he would be happy to do for you. He wished he could wake up in this bed every day instead of once or twice in a blue moon when hunting had dried up or he needed more supplies from your shop for hunters.

“Do you remember the day we met?” His voice echoed through the small bedroom, soaking into the old wallpaper that you refused to let him replace, claiming that it was just fine the way it was.

You hummed and glanced up at him, your eyes still hazy from an entire afternoon of ‘I missed you but I’m not going to say it out loud’ sex. Dean cupped your full cheek.

“‘Course I do. You broke into my shop at 4 in the morning and I almost shot you.”

“We still need to work on that aim of yours sweetheart.” You scoffed but snuggled closer to him, the sweet smell of your skin almost getting overwhelming. Your fingers traced over the scars along his torso, never flinching away or touching them like you wished they weren’t there in the first place. You were mapping out the story of him without question or hesitation.

“Yeah well why would I need to do that if I have you here to protect me?” You said it like it was a fact, that you never doubted he would come to your rescue at a moment's notice. “I’ve got Dean Winchester in my bed, I’m the safest girl in the world.”

His breath caught but before you could notice, he gave you that smirk that got him there in the first place and drawled out a low: “Yeah you do sweetheart.” You visibly flustered, burying your face into his arm to escape the heat of his gaze. 

“You’re always so mean to me.” His laugh bounced your head up and down. You began to giggle, unable to help yourself, and slid your arm beneath his back so you could wrap your body around him. Electricity followed your touch, his nerves sparking to life like the feeling of stepping out from the darkness into the sun.

God I love her.

The thought slammed into his chest, briefly knocking the air from his lungs. He expected a sense of panic, maybe dread, but all he felt was a sense of calm that settled against his soul. Dean just pulled you tighter against him and pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. You returned it with a soft peck right above his heart.

He didn’t want to run from this, not this time. You were everything to him and he wanted to stay right here, even if he knew he didn’t deserve it. Your breathing evened out as you succumbed to some much-needed sleep.

Maybe staying another few days wouldn’t be so bad, Sammy kept telling him he needed a vacation.

Sam- When you were kind to him even after he broke your heart

Sam’s voice had gone hoarse over an hour ago but they still hadn’t let him out. He knew that they wouldn’t but still he had begged and pleaded, even succumbed to tears yet there was no answer from outside the heavy iron door. 

He slumped back against the cot in the centre of the room, the sharp metal scraped against his back but it was nothing compared to the pain he felt in every waking moment. The cold concrete beneath him did nothing to soothe the burning inside of him. 

“Please.” The word was barely even audible, escaping his lungs with little more than a whimper. Sam let his head fall back onto the thin mattress.

As soon as the door was slammed shut, all he felt was blinding rage. Didn’t they understand why he was doing this? The blood gave him the power they needed to help people! But when hours had passed without so much as a hint that they even heard him, the anger melted away into a sort of numbness. Dean and Bobby had tricked him into this, you had tricked him.

It was your face that he saw last as the door was shut. Your lips were pulled downwards, your eyes rimmed with red, your shoulders slumped. You had looked like you were in mourning. Guilt curled in his stomach, just like every other time he looked at you since the day he left for Stanford. But this time, the sour taste of betrayal filled his mouth like bile.

You were turning your back on him, siding with his brother when all he wanted to do was to make the world safer, for you. 

Sam forced himself to take a deep breath, even as his body screamed with the ache of movement. The air was stale and settled heavily onto his chest but he was grateful to feel it, he was grateful to feel anything besides the searing pain of his nerves. This was the first break from the hallucinations he’d had in days, or weeks, time, just like everything else, had no meaning within the iron walls that enclosed him.

The cotton of his shirt felt like it was rubbing his sensitive skin raw but to take it off meant moving and he was far too tired to withstand the pain anymore. His head turned, letting the right half of his face press into the cot. The single flat sheet on the bed smelt of the flowery laundry detergent that you always used, it made something inside of him twist sickeningly.

A single tear slipped down his cheek.

“Sam?” His eyes squeezed shut.

“Please not again. Please don’t hurt me again.” He begged with broken words. He cringed at the sound of metal scraping against concrete. He couldn’t do it again, he wouldn’t fight it. Sam was going to let the pain take him.

Soft footsteps drew closer. He braced himself for the first strike. Would it be the sharp pinch of a scalpel or the burn of a propane torch? Or would it be the voices of people he loved reminding him of just how tainted he was? How evil? 

He whimpered as they stopped right beside him. There was a beat, then two, then the gentle whoosh of air as someone kneeled down beside him. 

“Sam.” Your voice washed over him like a gentle breeze, easing the stiffness in his bones. “Sam? Can you look at me?” He wanted to say no, to yell at you to get out and leave him alone like you did when you first locked him in here but the exhaustion in your tone made him crack open one of his eyes.

You sat on your knees mere inches from him, letting him see you in stark detail. One of his flannels hung from your shoulders partially concealing the form-fitting tank top you wore beneath it. Normally, his heart would have skipped a beat seeing you wear his clothes, but now it only reminded him of why you stopped. Bruise-like dark bags marred your full cheeks, your eyes blood-shot.

“Oh Sammy. I-“ Your voice cracked. You reached for him but quickly thought better of it, your hand dropped back down to your side where there was a bucket of water now on the ground. “You know you can’t come out yet but I thought you might like to clean up a bit, maybe eat something that isn’t dried or jerkied.” 

Sam opened his other eye but made no other efforts to move. You sighed, your shoulders dropping as you sat back on your heels. “Will you let me wash your hair and change your clothes at least? I bought the softest ones I could find and even washed them in the fabric softener Dean keeps secretly buying.” Your lips quirked up, attempting some sort of reaction from him.

You looked so worn out, Sam wondered if you had sat right outside the door waiting for him to stop screaming. His head bobbed and the hardness in your gaze eased. “Thank you. I’ll be as gentle as I can, squeeze my leg if you want me to stop.”

He bit back a whimper as you guided him to the floor. His broad shoulders rested across your plump thighs, letting his head hang above the floor. You kept one hand beneath his neck, taking far more of his weight than he would be willing to admit, and reached for the small plastic cup floating at the top of the bucket. 

His fingers curled around your knee, his short nails digging into the denim as you poured a cup full of hot water over the crown of his head. You paused for a moment but continued when Sam loosened his grip. 

As you placed the cup to the side and retrieved a small bottle of fragrance-free shampoo, he let his eyes shut once more, this time, his mind wandering to the last time the two of you had spoken.

It had been in the days after Dean died. You refused to break down in the face of losing your best friend, the man that taught you to drive, to throw a proper punch. You wanted to stay strong for Sam and for Bobby but Sam knew it wouldn’t last long. 

You had been slowly, methodically cleaning Baby, just like Dean taught you to when the younger Winchester approached you with a bowed head and a duffle bag on his shoulder. Just like the day he left for college.

You didn’t wait for his excuses.

“You’re leaving?” You said but it didn’t sound like you, not really. Sam didn’t answer and you scoffed, throwing the sponge you’d been using onto the dusty driveway. “Just like that, running off days after-“ Your breath caught but you swallowed down your tears, “What are you planning, Sam? You know selling your soul won’t work, we’ve already tried that.”

Sam huffed and pulled the strap of the bag higher on his shoulder. “I’ve got a friend who might know a way to get him back.”

He should’ve seen the way your back straightened as your body went stiff. “A ‘friend’?”

“She knows a lot about hell and right now I’ll try anything to bring him back.” And then he did something truly stupid. “Unlike you.” 

Silence crashed down around you like a falling building, immediately filling the air with a tension so thick Sam could almost choke on it. He watched your shoulders draw up, your hackles raised before your chest expanded fully and you exhaled through your nose.

“Then I won’t stop you. I trust you Sam but I don’t trust Ruby and I won’t be around forever to fix up your messes, not anymore. I’m worth a hell of a lot more than just being the girl you always leave behind but keep running back to.” You fished Baby’s keys from your front pocket, tossing them at Sam as you passed.

“Ruby’s dead.”

“Is she?” You shot him a look before opening Bobby’s front door. “Don’t get yourself killed. Lose my number.” The door slammed behind you and suddenly Sam felt like he was making the wrong decision, again.

You ran a hand through his hair, letting the shampoo run through your fingers as you carefully washed it away with the lukewarm water and with it, you washed away his pain. He turned his head into your hand, soaking up every ounce of touch you were willing to give him. It’d been so long since he had felt anything other than lust or hurt pressed to his body. 

You refused to meet his gaze, not that he could blame you after everything he had done, but he wanted so badly to look into those perfect e/c’s even just one more time. To feel that peace and acceptance that had always swirled within the deep colour of your irises. 

Suddenly, all Sam wanted to do was curl up in your lap and cry. He’d spent so many years taking your warmth for granted and now, after months of being denied even a sliver of your presence, he couldn’t imagine ever being away from you again. He wanted to prove to you that you were worth staying for, you were worth everything to him, but all he could do was let you care for him with hesitant hands.

He loved you, he always had, even when he was trying to run away from his life, even as he fell in love with someone else. It was you that kept him from falling into that well of darkness that would be so easy to slip into. You with your sass and your gentleness, your softness and your bite, your laughter and your grief. He loved you.

But how could you ever love him back?

Castiel- When you made him remember why he loved humanity in the first place

It was the sound of crying that drew Castiel to the playground across the street from the motel you had been camped out at. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sound to the angel given his age and how many prayers he’d heard throughout his existence, but the pitch was so high, so truly filled with fear that he didn’t hesitate to follow it.

“Angel? Where are you going?” He glanced back at you as you were pulling on your boots.

“There’s crying.” He said simply before descending the concrete steps to the ground floor. You let out a noise like a scoff and scrambled after him, barely grabbing the room key and your hunting knife before the heavy door slammed shut.

“Cas!” His pace didn’t falter as the crying picked up in intensity but he was confident you were following close behind him. His blue eyes flicked over the colourful plastic structures, expecting some siren or ghost to pop out at him. The weight of the angle blade against his forearm and your steady footsteps behind him reminded Castiel that he would not fight this battle alone.

He slowly rounded the bright yellow twisty slide just as you skidded to a halt a step behind him. Thankfully, you remained silent, a palm pressed to his back to remind him that you had him covered. The crying was louder now, though it did not sound like it was from any creature he had encountered before. 

There was a shadow at the edge of the monkey bars. Castiel’s blade dropped silently from his sleeve, sliding perfectly into his grip. He took a single stride forwards, ready to attack before it could when your fingers suddenly snagged the back of his trenchcoat.

“It’s a kid.” You breathed, he imagined it was out of relief but your human emotions always confused him. You slid the knife into the sheath you kept at the small of your back, tugging down your shirt so it was completely hidden as you cautiously approached the small figure curled up in the wood chips.

“Hi sweetie, are you ok?” Your voice dripped with sweetness, like he remembered syrup to taste like. You leaned forwards, your shoulders dropped as low as they could go.

The crying stopped but small hiccups still echoed through the maze of playground structures. The sun had been steadily setting and now sat just above the horizon, the darkness creeping in. 

Castiel watched closely as you squatted a foot away from the child, a soft smile on your face. “Are you lost?” The child finally looked up, their eyes wide and sparkling with tears in the low light of the evening. They nodded.

“Can we help you find your parents?” Their nodding got quicker and they reached out their arms to you. Your smile grew wider as you stood up, easily pulling them up and resting them on your wide hip. You turned back to face Castiel, a hand rubbing up and down the child’s back.

They must’ve been only 4 or 5 and wearing an outfit that was far from appropriate for the dropping temperature. “We’re going to go to the police station, I bet your parents are waiting there for you.” They looked up at you, still silent, but now clinging to your t-shirt in a way that made Castiel’s heart inexplicably skip a beat.

“This is my friend Cas,” You leaned closer to their little ear and loudly whispered the next part, “He’s an angel.” The child’s eyes widened and their head snapped around to look at him. Cas stepped closer, the child didn’t flinch.

“I am and so is she, that’s how she was able to find you.” He could almost feel the heat from your cheeks even feet away but still the child seemed convinced. 

“Really?” You hiked them up higher on your hip, your arm wrapping tighter around their little body to keep them warm.

“Really really. Now why don’t we get you back home?” They rested their head beneath your jaw and nodded, snuggling closer to your soft body. 

Cas dutifully followed you as you walked out of the park, watching the child bounce with each of your steps. You chattered away about things you were seeing around the street, your voice filling the silence like a white noise machine. Cas could feel the calmness radiating from the child and it warmed something long forgotten inside of him.

You had no duty to this child, nor any other person that you saved and he knew that you would receive no thanks for your actions but yet you still did them. You threw yourself into harm’s way to protect complete strangers from things they could not possibly understand. You had once confided in the angel that you had been pressured into hunting but you had stopped trying to run away from it long ago.

He’d felt anger for you, just the same as he felt for the Winchesters and all the other unfortunate children who never had a choice. He felt angry for himself, at humanity.

But seeing you now, caring for this child like they were your own, Castiel understood why you stayed. You didn’t do it for the glory of saying you saved the world, nor for some duty bestowed to you by your parents, it was because you cared and because you knew what evil was. 

The near empty streets soon gave way to rows of shops and townhouses, leading directly to the lit up police station only a few blocks away. The child started to fidget against you as they began to recognise their surroundings, making you laugh quietly. “I know sweetie! We’re almost there. You’re so close.”

You came to a stop right at the entrance. “You can go right in and tell them your name and that you were lost.” They nodded dutifully while you carefully lowered them to their feet. “Ok sweetie, you were so brave today but make sure you stay with your parents next time.” You ran a hand over their head and stod to your full height.

They looked at you and Castiel before gracing you with a toothy grin. “Thank you nice angels!” Then they threw open the glass door and rushed inside just as two grown ups turned the corner behind the reception desk. They fell to their knees, catching the little one in their arms.

Something warm brushed the side of his hand, making Castiel tear his eyes away from the scene in front of him. You took his hand into your own, your eyes shimmering with tears. You didn’t say anything and he found that no words were needed.

Tomorrow, he would tell you how incredible you were, that you were what angels should be and that he was feeling something for you that he never thought he could ever experience. But for right now, he wanted to watch this child reunite with the people that loved them most while the chill of the night and the monsters in it were kept at bay by the brilliance of your soul.

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[slasherslittlesimp]

Cursed (Avengers X Reader)

Part One

PART TWO

Natasha's hands skillfully fly across the keyboard at one of the computers as she types in code after code, likely bypassing any security and downloading the files to her drive. Her eyes flicker around the screen, taking in whatever information she sees. Cap remains by the door, keeping watch for anyone who might try to sneak up on all of you.

"I believe I've found her file but it's quite large Cap." She doesn't take her gaze from the screen as she reads through the first page. "We'll have to wait until we get back to the compound to read through it more thoroughly but I can at least figure out the basics now."

"The basics are all we really need right now." He responds, glancing at you before returning most of his attention to the doorway.

Your nerves grow slightly knowing that they'll be reading through everything that you've been through at some point. Your life up to this point hasn't been the prettiest and it's not exactly something you want anyone else knowing. You know you don't have much of a choice though.

"Let's see..." Natasha squints slightly as she reads over the small writing on the screen. "Says here that her name is (Y/N) (L/N) and that she's roughly twenty-five years old." She pauses, clicking a few times as she likely searches for the more important information. "Ah, here we go. Her ability is called 'Cursed Speech'. Apparently whatever she says pretty much happens. That explains the muzzle."

The man seems intrigued with this as he finally moves away from the door to come read over her shoulder. They both remain silent, not giving you any clue as to what they're reading. Your eyes flicker between them and the door, nervous that someone can come through now that they're not keeping watch.

Thankfully, once the files are completely downloaded they both step away, Natasha grabbing the drive before turning towards you. "Let's go." She jerks her head in a motion to signal that you need to follow them once again.

The three of you exit the server room- Cap leading followed by you and then Natasha taking up the rear. You're pretty certain the formation is both to keep you from bolting and to also keep you protected should anyone show up. You're not complaining either way since you're not being left behind this way.

They lead you down many different hallways without ever once second guessing if they're going the right way. The man must have one hell of a memory if he's able to remember his exact route that he had taken. It's even more impressive knowing that everything's backwards since he's going the opposite way. If it was you, you would've already gotten lost. If the two abandoned you, you'd never find your way to an exit or even back to your room.

Cap goes around one last corner before finally reaching a large metal door at the end of a corridor. It must be the door they entered through since the locking mechanism appears broken allowing him to swing the door open effortlessly. Your eyes squeeze shut at the sudden brightness before slowly opening into a squint. You've forgotten how bright and intense the sun can be after spending so long in barely lit rooms. While the light is a bit much, the warmth from it spreads pleasantly over what little skin you have showing.

You don't get much of a chance to bask in it as Natasha grabs your upper arm, tugging you along until you're boarding a jet that has a few others on it. You have no idea who any of them are but they all seem wary and confused at your presence. You probably look insane with how you're dressed but there's not much you can do about it.

Natasha pushes you down into a seat before clasping a buckle over your lap and moving towards the cockpit. You watch her go before turning to take a better look at the other people around you. The first one to draw your attention is a rather nervous looking gentleman with dark hair that has speckles of gray in it and glasses. His hands rub together as he likely tries to push his nerves away but you can tell from the way he keeps glancing at you that your presence isn't helping.

The next person you examine is a man with sandy colored hair who seems to be looking over his quiver of arrows. Every now and then his gaze will move from what he's doing to you yet his face remains neutral, not letting you know how he feels or what he's thinking at all. Next to him is a young female with long dark hair and a pretty red jacket. Her gaze hasn't left you a single time since you've gotten in the jet though it looks more like she's looking through you rather than at you.

Cap is the next person you look towards, finding him standing tall with his muscular arms crossed over his chest as he has a hushed conversation with the last person in the group- a man sporting red and gold armor. Caps brows are furrowed as he talks, showing that he's thinking quite hard about something. The man in armor seems a bit more nonchalant as he nods along to whatever is being said while at the same time scrolling through a tablet. Their voices are too quiet for you to hear what they're saying so you turn your attention away.

The man with the arrows sends one last glance your way before putting his things away and moving towards the cockpit. Shortly after he disappears from sight the jet whirs to life as it lifts from the ground. Your stomach flips as you close your eyes, trying to ignore the fact that you're no longer on solid ground. The idea of traveling extremely fast while hovering thousands of miles away from the ground is unnerving, especially when the last time you experienced it was long ago. Nobody else seems to be bothered by it except maybe the guy with glasses but he just seems anxious in general.

"Why's the chick dressed like Hannibal Lecter?" Someone finally speaks up, breaking the tense silence. You keep your eyes closed as you listen but you're able to tell who asked based off of the direction the voice came from. Only two people were standing off to your right and you already know what the one sounds like which narrows it down to the man in armor.

"That's what I'd like to know." Cap sighs as he glances over to you. "Nat and I managed to get her files so we can go over them all together once we return to the compound."

"Let's just hope she's not a cannibal." Armor man mumbles which earns him a slight scolding from Cap. The rest of the ride is silent after that which you're somewhat thankful for. You hate listening to people talk about you. You'd much rather sit in complete silence regardless of how tense or awkward it is.

After an unknown amount of time, the jet finally lands at what you're assuming is the compound. You're led off of the flying death trap as soon as the back of it is open by Cap who has a firm grip on your shoulder. Despite your curiosity, you keep your gaze locked to the ground, not wanting to show interest in your new prison. The entire walk is quiet as Cap takes you into a building and down many hallways before finally stopping at a room.

Entering, you're met with a single metal table and chair sitting right in the middle of the room. The two way mirror on the wall confirms that it's an interrogation room. Cap releases his grip from your shoulder as he orders you to sit down. Doing as you're told, you watch him exit without another word. He's probably going to check your files before bothering with questioning you. It's the smart thing to do, after all.

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[bettystonewell]

Sam Winchester x Reader - PERFECT

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Sam is ever the gentleman, and Dean is, well, Dean. Having had enough of watching him lead yet another woman on, leaves Sam with no choice, but to leave. But a chance encounter in the most unlikely of places leads to Sam getting his sock on the motel door first.

18+ only MDNI 7.5k words (SAM POV)

Tags: smut, oral - male and female recieving, language, Sam’s POV, pining, dirty talk, an unconventional meet-cute

A/N: Guys! It’s my very first Sam centric fic, and it turned smutty! This is all thanks to a prompt exchange with the lovely @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth. You can find her Donna x reader fic HERE. I was given the prompt: Third Wheeling, and the phrase, “You do not want to go in there, believe me,” which is in bold. - Beth ❤️

“Being on the road can be so lonely sometimes, you know?” Dean says, taking Kristy’s hand and gliding his thumb over her smooth skin. She’s hot and way out of his league, and Sam just knows he’s already forgotten her name.

He rolls his eyes. Again. Another town, another bar. Another conquest that will keep him out of a nice warm bed.

He gets it, he does, but he was looking forward to stretching his legs out tonight. They’re stiff and his back still aches from the salt and burn they did the night before and the driving they’ve been doing all day.

Milroy to Muncie. Dean isn’t travelling the world like he just told her. What would a seasoned pilot even be doing in a place like this?

There’s a tidal pool of liquor right in front of him, lapping at the elbows of his jacket with every fresh drink poured. But hey, there are peanuts. The shells are swimming in the swill, and that suits him fine. The smell of smoke and tobacco, cheap cologne mixed with sweat and… urinal cakes… it’s nothing to bitch about. They could use a load off.

It’s just having to hear Dean swindle his way into her panties. Only took two beers and a double bacon cheeseburger.

Sam takes another swig of his beer. Lets the bitterness cool his throat and his hands. It settles in his stomach that’s twisted itself into knots. Kristy was perfect until she started talking to Dean.

He’s got a shoulder blocking his peripheral now, but raising his chin and leaning further into the wave of booze on the counter gives Sam the right angle. He sees the rise of her chest as it dips into her tank top. Makes his lip curl over the lip of his bottle and his cheeks flush. A little.

“Omae wa mou shindeiru,” Dean says with a husk to his voice.

Kristy giggles. “What does that mean?”

“It’s Japanese for you’re so beautiful. I learnt that on my last visit.”

It’s not. Sam might not speak the language, but he knows enough to know that line is from Fist of the North Star and Dean butchered it. Pretty sure he told her she was going to die, actually, but whatever. He shakes his head. None of his business if she falls for it - she does - and he can either stay here and further torment himself, or do something about it.

He chugs down the rest of his beer and drops it in the potent ocean. His elbows just miss the riptide. “Bathroom.” He shoots the word Dean’s way, but he gets no response.

“Yeah, I climbed Fuji last time I was there. It’s beautiful in the winter. The snow up there makes the whole mountain look like you’re walking in the clouds.”

Right. Though Sam would love to see him try. He might not have his brother in full afterwards, but he could live on if Dean became subjected to Darwinism.

He stands and searches the place for the John. Of course it’s in the back.

His eyes sweep over Kristy as he passes her, keeping them well away from Dean’s. His hand is covering the dip of her lower spine now, and that’s enough.

Between the pool tables and over more spilled booze that catches the soles of his sneakers as he crosses the room; he makes it to the little darkened crook behind the jukebox where some guy is marking a trail over the neck of a woman twice his age. He has to tap him on the shoulder or squeeze past and bump uglies with them, but no problem, sweet urinal cakes are within his grasp.

He reaches for the handle, tugs, and is about to step inside when a face plants into his chest.

“Sorry,” you say, and look up. Your eyes would be apologetic if it weren’t for the grin that’s stretching your cheeks. “You do not wanna go in there, believe me.”

He doesn’t want to — “What?”

He checks the plaque on the door to make sure that he is indeed trying to enter the men’s room, and he is. “Ahhh,” he chuckles. His voice is higher, and he’s blinking like there’s no tomorrow. “Why?”

“Oh. No.” Your hand is at your mouth and it’s grown even wider.

Your giggling is much more pleasant than Kristy’s, but he doesn’t see what’s so funny. A band of warmth spreads across his nose, but his stomach is doing flips now and not the good kind.

This place is gross enough. What could someone like you possibly do in there? You’re so…little. Well, anyone compared to him is, but you seem sober and put together.

Your makeup has no smudges. No smell of puke or anything else. Your hair is neat, and while those jeans are rather snug, you’ve got some nice tits. They’re not falling out and you’re not stumbling all over the place. You are looking more sheepish by the second, though.

“No, no. I, ah.” You shake your head. Your legs are crossing together. “Uh-uh. Someone’s dropped a load off in there and the ladies aren’t much better. Can I—” Your hands clasp and fingers intertwine; your arms are now slithering like two snakes between his side and the doorframe. “I really gotta go. Excuse me!”

And with that, you take off through the gap made by the couple and the booze puddles on the floor. You’re scooting between the pool tables, then past Dean and Kristy, honing in on a door at the end of the bar he never noticed before. A gust of air pulls it shut behind you.

Okay. Weird.

Sam shakes his head. He’s about to walk on through to the sink he spots on the wall when his nose picks up on whatever it was you were talking about and, yeah, he doesn’t want to know. Whomever did that needs their insides checked, if they haven’t died already?

He turns on his heels and considers his options. He’s seen and smelled worse, but he’s not desperate yet. The beer is still sitting atop the knots that had unraveled, and though the stench has tightened them back into place, they won’t hold forever.

Maybe if he walks home to the motel they checked into earlier, he can make it before things get dire? He should beat Dean before he drops a sock on the door that way.

So, with a glance towards his older brother, whose fingers have slipped under Kristy’s waistband, his decision made, and Sam beelines for the main entrance, stepping out into the night air.

The chill cuts the back of his hands and he shoves them straight into his pockets, bringing his elbows in tight on account of the wind. It dares to tackle him over, but he leans forward and braces himself down the path and past the alley that tucks into the side of the bar.

For the second time that night, you barrel into him. The coincidence, the irony, the annoyance tightens his stance until he realises it’s you and his brow quirks. “You gotta watch where you’re going.”

Your face planted into his arm, above the junction his elbow makes. It fits nicely. A strand of your hair catches on the stitching of his jacket. Probably got some beer on your chin. Serves you right.

“Excuse me,” you snap, but that grin still spreads over when you look up and your eyes recognise you’ve bumped into him. “Oh.” Your eyelashes bat against your cheek. “Well, you gotta stop getting in my way.”

And as you had done only a minute ago, you turn to take off again. Only Sam is quicker. More alert. His hand grabs your wrist before you get too far and holds on tight. “Where are you going?” he says, considering how your hips and legs squirm. The motel is only two blocks and he’ll be the gentleman if he has to be. He isn’t Dean.

“Look dude, I gotta pee, and that alley ain’t going to cut it, so unless you want me to—”

“Yeah.” He scoffs. “I’m staying down the road, so before you threaten to piss yourself, you’re welcome to use the one in my room.”

You bite your lip and shrug as you stare him up and down. He’s not a serial killer, but he can understand the skepticism after all he’s seen.

You nod your head. “I was gonna aim for your shoes,” you say. “But okay.”

And there’s Sam, blinking once more. His eyes are getting quite the workout tonight. His scoff teed with a snicker this time. The dimples in his cheeks are pulling his chin to new heights and his other hand is leaving its pocket, outstretching in front of him to lead the way.

“Okay then,” he says, and now you’re both walking.

The room isn’t much. The usual twin beds, table and chairs, a couch Sam refuses to sit on. You’ve only been here a second and you’ll only be here a minute or two more, but it’s imperative he cleans up any evidence of their less-than-normal lives while you’re occupied. 

The second the door clicks and the light filters through the threads of carpet caught on the frayed timber, he’s zipping up duffles and tucking the nose of Dean’s shotgun out of sight. 

There’s a salt round by the fridge, an empty bottle of Jim next to it, and Dean’s underwear draped over the chair. He picks that up with the machete, thanks his lucky stars you didn’t see that or the rest of it, then sits on the end of his bed. 

No, he stands. 

No, he sits and leans on his legs. His thumbs twiddle, his eyes scan the doors. And now he’s standing up again as the handle jostles and you appear with a smile that’s oozing relief. He relaxes just a little.

“All good?” he asks. What the hell was he thinking? Not like you battled a vamp in there. But then you’re tilting your head and your palms are smoothing your sides as you consider his question, and ‘Please don’t think I’m a creep,’ he prays. 

“Yeah. Thanks,” you say. You’re less animated now. You’re chill, calm, collected. Even more put together than before, but just as Sam feared you might, you take in your surroundings, checking out the details of the room.

He’s luckier still. 

“Can I, ah, take you back to the bar?” 

It’s not suss, right? He’s just being friendly, not kicking you out or hiding something, but it’s not the way you take it.

“You want me gone?” Your chin recedes into your neck. 

Shit. “No, I—”

“Relax.” You chuckle and step over to pat him on the shoulder. The same side you ran into on the street. “I’m just messing with you. Thanks for helping a stranger in need,” you add as you move to the door. “I’ll see you around, unless walking me back to the bar includes buying me a drink?”

“There’s beer in the fridge.” Sam didn’t even think. Well. He did, just not with his head. 

It’s Dean’s stash in case he doesn’t pickup, but you’re here, and he’s there. Even if nothing comes from this, he doesn’t need to know it’s all a fallacy. Sam’ll take it as a win, and he waits for your response.

He’s down to beg. He throws that look that always works and your lips spread into a smile. 

“Alright.” You nod. Don’t even question why there’s beer when you just met at a bar, and the next thing he knows, you’re pulling up a chair, and so is he. His back, leaning against Dean’s former underwear drawer, clinking his and your cold one together. 

“So, passing through, huh?” you ask between swigs. 

There’s a spark of interest in your eyes, but all he can do is say, “Yeah.” He’d much rather talk about you. Your life is normal. You seem normal. If accepting to use a stranger’s motel bathroom and then staying for a drink makes you so. 

You did threaten to pee on him.

“Staying long?”

“Depends on my brother.”

You’d taken another mouthful and the lip of the bottle catches on yours as you say, “Your brother?” 

There’s a drop of beer dripping down your chin, and he’s drawn to it. Tongue darts out before hiding it behind his own drink. “Yeah,” he repeats and you’re nodding more. Only it’s slow. It’s understanding. 

Your gaze travels the room again as you think what to say, passing the two beds and the duffles he threw on the floor. “So, road trip? Heading to or from college?”

“College?” He chuckles.

“Yeah. You seem young enough. You got that head in a book kind of look.” Your fingers trace the bottleneck and swipe at the condensation. “I dunno? I’m making shit up while I try to work out who you are besides Sam, the guy who saved me from peeing my pants. You’re not exactly giving me much.”

And you’re not giving him a chance. “What about you? What’re you twenty-four?”

“Three. You?”

He nods. He’s twenty-five, but you don’t need to know that. It’s been over two years since he got dragged back into hunting. Since he lost Jess. Maddison, too, not that it’s the same. 

“So what’s your story?” he says.

“Besides trying to use the men’s room and the alley?”

It’s not just a chuckle this time, he’s wholeheartedly laughing. It bellows round the room, ricocheting off the walls and doors. That smile of yours is wicked, and the straight-laced tone that delivered it was just right. His stomach has unwound, and his head is feeling light thanks to your shoe brushing his leg below the table.

Maybe there’s no need for lies. Sometimes all it takes is a gentleman’s kindness. A tall stature and an air of mystery. 

“Besides that,” he says, and you’re considering him again. Your stare has him staring back.

You’re pretty. More than you are put together. Your hair sits just right, your hands delicate. They’d look good in his, and even better wrapped around any part of him. 

Which means he’s got to up his game. You’re already here and the way you look at him clues him in that you might be interested. He just has to reel you in. So, “You gotta boyfriend, or living with your folks?” he adds. He shouldn’t have started with your relationship status, but your smile’s just growing bigger and bigger.

“Boyfriend, huh? At least I asked what you did first.”

“No, you didn’t.” 

“Do you wanna know if there is one?” you tease, then you’re laughing along with him.

There’s no guy. Your shoe is off and your socked foot is now stretched across the table; resting close to his crotch. 

You’re not shy. You’re not dumb, either. “Why do you think I stayed?” 

You lean forward. Your toes shift, too, creeping closer and closer to not so little Sam, who twitches with interest. “Cute stranger, staying at the local motel. We don’t get a lot of those ‘round here, and I’m counting on you leaving tomorrow. If you’re interested.”

It’s like he’s channeling his inner-Dean or something. You may as well be in his lap. Sure, your foot is, but women his age never fawn over him, at least he never notices until it’s too late. It took days for Jess flirting after Brady introduced her for him to make his move. 

He was in Maddison’s living room and that took Dean’s interference. The weird, and albeit extremely obvious kind, but here with you, what you’re suggesting is plain as day. 

“I, ah.” You’re looking at him still. Your big toe is scraping right up against the seam of his pants now. If it weren’t for the fabric covering the family jewels, your nail would be right up in theirs.

Shit. 

His knee hits the table. His beer travels down the wrong pipe. He chokes when the cool liquid slides further and the bubbles lick the walls. Meanwhile, your foot just gets in there more. Big toe, seeking the form of his growing boner.

Your smile is infectious. You think making a grown man squirm is hilarious, apparently. He’d let you do it again and again. “You wanna?” he says between splutters. 

Idiot. Does he really have to ask?

It’s hard to breathe when your lungs are constricting, let alone think. But you’re there, and he’s there, and he’s so fucking down, it’s no longer funny. 

He stands. Crunches his chair across the crunchier carpet as your chin shoots up. Eyes following to what would be the perfect angle if you were closer and below his feet. 

“I do,” you say, and your lips are plump, glistening. They’re wide and they pillow under your front teeth, daring him to capture them. 

He does.

His arm sneaks around your waist, and he pulls you to stand. His hand plants firm on your side. Fingers scrunch up your shirt, but no matter, yours are riding up under his, and fuck, no, no, he doesn’t fucking care.

His gut is doing flips. Those knots are loose, but his chest is tight. Blood rushes to both heads and both heads ground against different parts of you. 

“Sam.” Your kiss stops mid nip. Your hands have since moved to his buckle, but your eyes are on him when he looks past his nose and mouth. He’d kiss you more. Only his attention has turned to what your fingers are doing with his belt and how your arms glide it out in one flick, then go straight back to the fly. “You packing?”

Packing? He stands there, stunned. His pants clearly are. Your fingers just brushed the tip.

“Condom,” you say, and the colour in your irises flicker. 

“Ah—Yeah. Yes. Mm—You—You don’t waste time, huh?” 

“Haven’t had enough, not too.” You double over in a manner he’d say otherwise. “And you mentioned something ‘bout a brother?”

“Dean?” His cheeks are rising again. But they’re doing so because his eyes are squinting with disgust. You’re still grinning up at him though, and your palm is teasing his dick through its confines. 

You grip and press into him, moulding out the shape under his jeans and he shakes that thought away. 

You want him. Your lashes are fluttering and your lips are twitching into a sultry smirk because he’s under your ministration and you’re ready to go with him, just as much as he is with you.

“Hold that thought,” he says, and he takes a step back, hand still on your waist to toe a shoe off. 

He’s not that coordinated with the sock, however, and he soon bends over to retrieve the house-elf’s bounty. He flashes it in triumph in front of your quirked brow, but you’re soon grinning with him. 

There’s a fit of laughter that hits his ears again and footsteps stalking him as he glides to the door and covers the outside handle, just as Dean would do. 

He shuts it, turns around and your hands grab and pull him back to you. Your right is back at the button and your left is sliding on in, tickling skin teasing through the copse of tiny curls before any kiss picks back up.

You swallow his moan. Taste the trepidation on his tongue as your skin touches his velvety head. 

Nope. Not shy. You know what you want, and Sam is more than happy to let you take it if you keep touching him like that, but he’s not dumb. He also knows what he wants, and it’s only fair he gets his turn, too. You’re here. He’s here. He wants to last. No, needs to. Being on the road with Dean so often means he gets little time to, well, take his time. 

He’s pent up. Motel showers aren’t the best when he has to keep quiet and slow his hands so the faps don’t reach his brother’s waiting jaunts. He could blow his load right now with not much more effort from you, but he’s not going to. Not until after he savours you first. 

It’s been way too long since he felt sweet curves or tasted the sweat of another’s skin. The bitter beer mixed with a fruity gloss is doing wonders already, but he craves more.

Just like the footpath, his hand grabs your wrist and its twin, and he leads you backward until your knees hit Dean’s bed and you flail. Your arms pull from him and push down into the bedding, then you drag yourself up to the pillows where you rest your head against the wooden board. 

Your finger tells him to come hither, your hand pats the space at your side. Sam takes off his shirt.

His gut is doing flips again. More so when your eyes trail up over every inch of his chiseled chest. Behind it, his heartbeat is fast. It could jump right out of there. Only the lump in his throat is huge. 

You’ve slipped off your shirt, too. Your fingers unclasp the hooks of your bra. You slide the straps down and hold it in the air before you fling it at his feet and giggle again. 

“What’re you waiting for?” you say and it goes straight to his pants. The outline of his dick throbs against the denim. 

He swallows. “Just, ah, admiring the show.” 

You grin. A little sigh escapes your lips as you look down at yourself. Your fingers swirl over your heaving skin. They dip into the valley between your breasts, but never move further than the tan line that divides the top half from the fuller one. “It’s more fun if you’re touching me, too.”

Ho-kay. This is really happening. And Sam’s now diving for Dean’s duffle. He’s careful not to reveal the contents, but it’s hard not to when he’s just as and everything’s dumped on top. The little box of Trojans is right under the weight of the sawn-off and the sharp blade of a machete almost cuts him.

Man, it’s lucky you’re occupied. 

Sam turns around, and that’s an understatement. You’re inching down your jeans. They’re flung off, and he’s doing the same. Hopping, skipping, and jumping, he yanks the string of plastic foils out and trails them along behind him. 

They splay out over the covers while you splay under him; and he’s dipping down to taste. There’s salt and a light scent of citrus teed with something sweeter flooding his nostrils as your fingers curl into his hair. His occupied with the way your left tit fits below them. He squeezes and draws his mouth over the other. Pops your nipple in and sucks.

“Took you long enough,” you coo, and he just chuckles, haughty, deep.

“And I’m gonna take longer,” he says between nips and swipes of a thick, flat tongue. One that glides perfectly ‘round the round, hardening bud. “Gonna fuck you so good.”

He presses firm, draws your taut skin into his teeth. He’s determined to leave marks because something’s snapped within. Where the hell that last line came from, he’s got no idea, but it’s as if he’s an animal turned feral.

A wolf in its den? A lion devouring its prey? Does it matter when his hips are gyrating against your lace? 

Your panties are staining his boxers, and his boxers strain against them, staining them right back.

“Fuck,” you moan. 

He groans, and then your hands are pressing against his head.

He can take a hint. He’s smart. He won’t tell you your upper thighs were his mouth’s goal all along. Too busy concentrating as he scoots down, ‘cause he can’t fuck this up. “You want me to fuck you, baby?” he says on the outside. God. Who the hell is he? “Want me to taste you?”

“Sam,” you moan again. “Gonna get me off with that tongue of yours, baby?”

And damn. His name is so much better when you say it, when your legs are spreading further open for him. His fingers are slipping under the edge of the lace, feeling the first slither of just how wet you really are.

His lips press against your clothed entrance and the damp fabric gives way. He’s certain his nose has just tapped into your clit and you smell divine. Sour, earthy. On the verge of something sweet. 

He darts his tongue back out to taste, and your fingers are tugging this time. Your nails scrape his scalp and your back arches off the bed, pushing your hot, hot heat against him.

“You gonna tease me all day, Samuel?” you say, and he’s not mad. That scolding tone is working wonders. His amusement bursts through his nose.

Down below though, a bead of pre-cum dribbles from little Sam, flexing with a life of its own. He can’t deny his balls are tight, stomach hotter than you are. It’s still flipping, and his toes stretch and recoil in extension. 

“No, ma’m.” The sooner he can get you to cum, the sooner he’ll be comfortable sinking into you. What he lacks in confidence he makes up for in size, and it’s something he’s proud of. 

He unfurls your panties. Glides them down with your eager help. Without warning, his lips return to their former position, parting yours around him. He presses hard, spreads his mouth open wide and licks while his fingers dip where he’s too afraid to reach. 

You’re still a stranger he knows nothing about besides no boyfriend and you’re willing to have this one-night stand with him. But he’s smart, remember? He doesn’t want to catch anything. Even if you’re well put together and squirming into his palm, he just met you, urinal adjacent. 

“Oh, shit.” Your back arches again. Your pants reach his ear. His fingers curl and stroke your constricting walls, wet catching in his nail-beds. Your body trembles, bringing a new meaning to thundering thighs. 

They quiver, they shake. He gets a calve to his chin as you raise it up and stretch it out. There’s a risk his head will get a good clamping, but he continues to strike with the pebbled tip of his tongue. 

His lips pull together and he pulls away with a smack, putting on a show for you with a swipe over the bow. His eyes find yours, lust blown, heavy lidded. Your mouth parts and begs a, “Please.”

And Sam’s diving right back in with a smirk. Kisses with force against your clit. Thrums his fingers inside, hard and fast. His wrist is getting a workout. His thumb aches as it’s pushed to the side. But he slips in a third finger, flicks the shelf of your pubic bone. Holds your stomach down as you buck and shake.

“Oh, god,” you cry. His name comes out in a hoarse scream. You yank at his hair as you gush over his hand and chin. Your legs do everything in their power to crush him, but he doesn’t let up.

His fingers continue to make you writhe and your arms wriggle and bend. Only now, his kisses move and spread your juices over you. 

The crease in your thighs and the soft flesh covering your hips. Over your stomach, delving into your navel, he trails up your body, back to your breasts, and soon you’re wet inside and out, and he grins big and toothy. Cheeks up high again as he waits for you to come down from yours.

He drops to his side. Props himself on his elbow. Hand runs through his hair, already laced with sweat. “That good, huh?” he asks. 

And if he’s honest, he needs to know. He’s still working you, only now his fingers tap at your opening. Slipping through your folds with a sound so slick, Dean would say it’s music. A newfound confidence comes from the belief you’re outta breath because of him.

Your laugh fills with air, like how a cartoon dog might snicker, chest rising against his own. Your nipple scrapes over his skin as he leans down and kisses you proper. Answer, stolen, before it can even form.

Salt and fruity gloss - cherry? No, strawberry. Why the hell does he care? The flavours swirl together. Bodies press together when you hitch your leg over his and pull him closer. Your sweet heat now flush against him, hammers his heart and forces his grip on you to tighten.

He squeezes your ass. It’s plump. It’s firm. Your jeans hid just how perfect and round it was. Just the right size for him to hold.

But you’ve got your sights set on your own grip, hand diving into his boxers to take him and give him a slow pump. Pulling back, your eyes open wide in surprise; you twist your wrist and palm his weeping head. 

“You’re the one packing, huh, big boy?” You then bite your lip. Lick it. Drag your thumb over his slit and pull a grunt from deep within the pit of his stomach. 

Somewhere below the knotting, there’s a fire burning, raging, and it needs to be sheathed, covered, surrounded. It’s gross, and it’s oh so Dean, but he needs it put out and a wet pussy will do.

Sam thrusts into your touch. He can’t help it. Fuck, he wants to move.

“You think you can handle me, baby?” he rasps into your parted mouth, stretching his arm over and behind, fumbling for the string of foils and tears one off.

“I’m gonna fucking try,” you say, and the wordplay, whether on purpose, is not lost.

He rolls to his back, and you’re already pouncing, pulling his underwear further down and off. You straddle his legs, take the little packet in your hand, and stroke him some more, up close, eye to eye. 

You kiss the tip, watching as it flexes. His fingers do the same ‘round the ends of your hair. They curl then grip. Yours is firm around his base. And the sight?

The sight. 

He’s died and gone to heaven. Too long since he’s seen a woman between his legs, those eyes still half lidded, still full of lust. You’re greedy. You’re needy. The way you hold your gaze as he feels the heat of your mouth nip at his skin, breath warm and wet, floods through him. 

The way you sink further down.

Sam rolls his head back, his crown pushes into the pillow bunched up below. He wants to look, wants to pull at the strands of hair that still lace through his fingers and yank you down so you take all of him in. 

Your tongue glides down the underside, flattened and rough, encasing, but with a light graze from two front teeth up top. The suction is so tight. The stretch around him burns his own skin. The way you drag back, then spit, swirl the saliva, and do it again, coating him all sloppy that it’s gleaming, all slippery and dripping like you were. Like you will be again. His gut curls in on itself now. 

He’s tingling. He’s buzzing. He’d be high as a kite, if it weren’t for your thighs keeping him down. Their weight, your weight, making him go numb with need. 

You pump your fist down low, swiping your smallest finger over the velvety skin covering his balls. A drop of him or you pools there, then drips further down. “Fuck.” He then calls your name.

“You ready for me, big boy?” you ask again, and he’s snickering at the way you say it. 

“Yeah.” His arm releases you and flops over his forehead, but the sound of that little wrapper in your grasp rectifies that. He’s peeping out from under himself as you roll the rubber down.

He’s so sensitive, it stings like the bite of some bug. Balls more so as you drag yourself up and over him. Cockhead catches where you split down the middle, rubbing across your puckered hole. 

You bite your lip. How many times now he’s lost count? You raise yourself, grabbing him where he’s thickest. Those eyes of yours stare at him again. They continue to hold that gaze as you lower back down, grin only curling further up, as your lower lips stretch around him. 

“So big,” you say this time, and he can’t tell if you’re yanking his chain or really mean it. Your cheeks puffed and your mouth all white from shining teeth, just like the rest of you. 

Like your perky ass, kissing his pelvis. Like your thighs squeezing him, much like the vice between them. Tight, wet and hot.

“Can you handle it? Can you move, baby? Gonna ride me? Gonna cum all over me?” God. Where the hell is this coming from? Who is this guy, all confident and cocky?

The guy with the big cock in your cunt. That’s who. 

Sam chuckles to himself. Still can’t believe his luck. But you’re raising again, and sliding back down, and all he can do is hold on.

His fingers dig into your thighs. He presses his nails into your soft body. He helps you rise and fall over him. 

He’s making the ride smooth and savouring the feel of your walls closing around him. Feels the fluttering, and the beginnings of new tremors. Marvels at how much more wet you’ve become. 

The sounds. It really is music. The way you, your tits, and your skin slap with each thrust and bounce. The louder claps of his pelvis hitting yours and the sheen of perspiration between has his head swirling with images he needs.

“Come ‘ere.” Sam lifts you just slight. Raises his legs; bends his knees; jostles you so his neck doesn’t need to strain as far so his mouth can reach. 

He pistons his hips, hears the slaps, tastes the sweat, feels the pants against his chin and cheek. Memories blend, and ghosts of his past weave in and out around you. You could be Jess, you could be Sarah, but it’s you who’s mouthing him. Not exactly kissing, too focused on making your bodies move.  

“Fuck, Sam,” you squeal. 

His hands spread you wider. He grunts your name into his ear.

He can’t keep up the pace as much as he’d like to. Can’t keep up the facade. It’s better if he sees your face to remind him who he’s there with. He can’t do that with a curtain of hair. 

So he taps, twice on the fine edge of a curve, has your eyes firm on his. 

“Wanna switch, baby?” he asks, and thinks quick for a reason. “Need to see that pretty face when you come.” He’d try to roll over with you in his arms, but he can just see that being disastrous. Losing his balance or getting an elbow somewhere where it shouldn’t.

He doesn’t have to worry because you’re lifting off. You fling yourself to his side and wriggle your back against the bedcovers. Open your legs wide, hands draped where your panty line would be. 

“You gonna make me come again, big boy? Gonna fill me up with that thing?” you say, and he’s over you in one swift movement. 

Sam grabs his cock and runs the covered tip over your entrance to tease you back. Watches the twinkle in your eye as it runs over your clit and you moan, just for show. 

Man, he’s lucky. Who the hell meets someone by a urinal and then gets to fuck them? Wait, no. He doesn’t wanna answer that. He’ll just keep marvelling at his luck at the gorgeous woman below him. The one who was busting to spring a leak, now waiting for him to bust his nut and hers.

“Fuck. You’re so tight.” Still, he glides back in with ease. How wet you are for him makes it so. 

He wishes he could feel it, he’s just not that stupid, but he can imagine if he remembers your mouth and how it felt ‘round him, taking him deep.

You still do.

Your legs hook over him, and he hitches the left up higher with his elbow. His cock sinks deeper, base flush against your seam.  

“Fuck me, Sam.” You’re squirming. It’s right out of a movie or a book. He’s John Snow or Jamie, and you’re - god no. You’re you and he’s him, and he’s, fuck, yeah, he’s fucking you.

He snaps his hips. Feels that burn again as his balls collide with your ass. His thumb is drawing little circles over where you join and he goes for it. 

He leans over, bending you with him, stretching you open, dreams of splitting you in two. You moan. Your walls flutter again. You tremble and your thighs contract. 

They’re powerful, much more than before. The back of your knee pulls on his arm and he only grips tighter. Hand on your shin. The other palm pushes you down.

It’s the perfect angle. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. 

Perfect to dive in deeper. Feel you flex and accommodate his size.

Your mouth produces a hiss. It’s like a whine at the same time. Forming an O with your lips that then spreads wide into an “Ah.” Elongated. A laugh. A giggle. Whatever it is, he’s doing something right because your thighs are trembling again and your leg is trying to pull away. 

His hand presses firmer, but he’s pulling you and shifting back, raising you up so you’re his handle on the ride. His tip is dragging out through you now and spearing you when he goes back in. 

Thrusts are quick. Sweat falls from his brow. He feels the way your body pushes back against him. He’s an intruder, but he’s not backing down. 

His stomach is tight. His legs ache and tremor, just as yours does. But that pull? The way his dick swells? It’s magnetised, pushes as deep as it can go. It’s determined to bury itself to the hilt. 

And when you say, “Fuck,” again, but there’s another, and an added, “God. I’m gonna come,” Sam snaps his hips and watches your face closely. 

A huge grin. The biggest yet; stretches into your eyes, twitches your lip and raises your jaw high. Your neck, exposed like a bloodsucker’s prey, and Sam is doubling over to claim it.

His tongue glides up your neck, teeth nip at your skin. He’s sucking like you’re his last meal. His pace wanes as your walls try to push him out, but he’s rocking his hips with purchase, pushing back in deep.

Another, “Fuck,” leaves you, but he’s seeing white. His balls throb and he’s spilling into what little space is left in the Trojan. He’s so far high on cloud fucking nine, he forgets where he is and who’s under him. 

He’s spent. That was way better than any quickie in the shower. The warmth beneath him. Perfect round tits pressed against his hardened chest tremble and shake. 

“Fuck.” It’s his turn now, but it comes out more like a groan. He pants. Body heavy, yet light as air. He tries to move, but everything is jello and shaking.

Your arms have been clinging to his back, your slick pussy would if it could, but it’s still fluttering, and he chuckles deep.

You giggle on reflex, and somehow it gives him the strength to look up and search for a kiss. The sweat is intense. Fruit, now barely there, but the after-sex-glow kissing your cheeks is better than anything else.

“Wow, big boy,” you say between your own pants. “Fuck.” He could hear that again and again. “That was quite a ride.”

“Yeah?” he says, though he really doesn’t have to ask. 

“Yeah,” you say, and it’s breathless, it’s hearty, it’s reminiscent of a time he should forget when you’re there with him, so he does. He tries. 

He rolls over to the side and removes the rubber. His muscles remember to roll back and drape his arm over your middle. Fingers flex at your side and he breathes in the citrus remnants in your hair as he closes his eyes and breathes in deep.

For a moment, he’s not in the dingy motel, but in his room. Yours too, maybe? He’s still at college ‘cause he is young, and he still has his whole life ahead of him. 

There are no monsters. No salt, no burns, knives or guns, and Dean? Well, Dean can be there too, he supposes. Just separate, the other side of town. Further in Milroy.

Yeah. Pennsylvania. That’s perfect, too. 

The weight of you draws him in further to dreaming. The warmth of you finally lolls him off, but neither is there when he stirs the next morning. The space in the bed beside him is cold and the thumps on the door rattle the chill he’s left with. His body, no longer jello, but stone-like, and cold. 

No feathers in sight, unless the pillow bunched up beneath him again is made of them. He is dumb if he thinks it’s true.

The newfound churning in his gut tells him he’s foolish, though, and when he opens his eyes and scans the room, he’s a bigger fool than Dean. What was he hoping for? That you’d be there with bacon and eggs? A morning coffee? Waking him up for another round?

No. Of course not. The bathroom door is wide open, and no feminine clothes, litter the floor. Of course you’d be long gone. You’d told him something of the sort last night.

“I’m counting on you leaving tomorrow.” Yes, that was it. That’s exactly what you said. He just didn’t realise you’d be the first.

Sam rubs his face. Pushes his hair back out of it and stands. The bangs are getting old, and the district “Sammy” that comes with them grates his eardrums. He’s not so big anymore.

No, he’s little brother Winchester. 

Bitch. 

“Sammy.” Dean bellows again. “Sock time’s over!” Another thump. “You’re abusing the privilege. ‘S only supposed to be two hours, max. Three if you’re ménaging.” A lecherous laugh follows.

Who’s older and who’s younger? Well, it’s only four years. 

Sam rolls his eyes and picks his boxers up as he walks around the bed. He grabs his t-shirt at the midway point, and strolls over to the door. 

Dean’s fist is held up in greeting when he opens, but Sam’s turning before the stupid grin gets any bigger. 

“Oh c’mon man. On my bed?” 

“It’s not like you were using it,” Sam says, back still towards him as he grabs what he needs and heads for the shower. 

“Where’s the girl?” follows him there.

There’s a twinge of a smile as he closes the door, but a sigh replaces it. He runs his hand through his hair again, holding it there as he looks around.

Nothing’s out of place. No signs of anyone else occupying the space unless you count the seat on the John being down. “You’re getting sentimental over a toilet?” he whispers, and shakes his head. Grabs his toothbrush; squeezes the paste.

Pearly whites and hands on him flash before his eyes. He goes through the motions after that. 

There’s a perfectly rounded tit in his hand, heaving as he squeezes, then lets go. A, “Fuck,” moaned into his ear when he turns on the faucet, plump lips and lust-blown eyes spitting on his tip when he spits into the sink. The lingering drop on the porcelain drips down nice and slow. He’s got a small mark on his shoulder. When he twists, he sees a couple of tiny dints in his back. His cock is stirring as his eyes travel his waist, imagines perfect hands gripping him firm.

“Hey, big boy,” Dean says through the crack, and it makes him startle. 

Big boy chokes and yanks on the handle. How the hell does he know? 

“You sly dog. So you did get your dingle wet.”

“What?” Sam’s voice is rather high. His cheeks are pushing the limits again and he’s hiding the smirk that’s trying to rise.

“You know.” Dean chuckles. “Widdle Sammy got waid.” He even goes as far as to slap his side as he holds up a note with ten beautiful digits scrawled between a heart and a ‘call me.’

“Give me that.” Sam snatches the note; grabs his phone, refusing to look Dean in the eye when he slams the door. They’re too busy scanning the digits, each curve, each bubble, each dot as he punches the numbers into his contacts, his thumb hovers over pressing call. 

Is he desperate? Yes, but his ego holds him back. It will at least, until they hit the road. 

From Muncie to god knows where next, he’s got no idea. Another town, another case? Maybe. But there’ll be nowhere as special there and no-one as perfect as the girl who almost…made him ditch his shoe.

For those who don’t recognise the Japanese reference, “Omae wa mou shindeiru,” (お前はもう死んでいる) translates to “you are also going to die.”

Tagging those who showed interest from the WIP folder game, and those who asked to be tagged in everything SPN ✌️

@losers-clvb @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter @roseblue373 @middleearthislife

Do you want to see more Sam stuff? LMK

[mintyys-blog]

When bucky gets turned into a cat by loki . Buck has the If looks could kill/hurt yet the meow and attitude 🥰🥰🥰🥰 . Hiding on top of counters , sunbathe on the balcony , sit on the cat tree with nats cat Liho and his fur bby Alpine , troll sam runing so fast (sit on his laptop leave hair on the bed xD) , recive pets from nat and y/n plus zoomies

CAT BUCKY— bucky barnes x reader

Loki had never been the most reliable ally, but Bucky didn’t expect him to turn him into a cat.

One second, he was standing in the middle of the room, giving Loki a pointed stare. The next, he was on all fours, staring up at the group with wide, confused eyes. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled meow.

Bucky blinked, then shook his head, feeling the weight of his new body. Okay, this is ridiculous.

He glared at Loki, who was too busy laughing to care. And just like that, Bucky had a choice: sulk or embrace his new reality. And when it came to Bucky Barnes, sulking never lasted long.

The first thing he did? He found the highest perch in the room—on top of the kitchen counter, of course—where he could survey the chaos below. He curled up with a smug look on his furry face, his eyes narrowing as he observed the group. If looks could kill…

“Is he…?” Sam’s voice trailed off, unsure of what to make of the fluffy menace perched on the counter.

“I think Bucky’s taking the whole ‘cat’ thing a bit too seriously,” Nat remarked, rolling her eyes but amused all the same.

Bucky’s tail flicked as if to say I am not amused.

Later, he was found sunbathing on the balcony, stretched out like a tiny lion soaking up every inch of sunlight, his fur gleaming in the golden light. He wasn’t going to admit it, but… it was kind of comfortable.

But it wasn’t long before he found himself hanging out with the other furballs. Liho, Nat’s cat, gave him a suspicious once-over before begrudgingly letting him share the cat tree. Alpine, the other cat, was less judgmental and immediately curled up next to him, purring contentedly. Bucky’s tail flicked lazily, still trying to act like he wasn’t enjoying this. I’m too good for this… he thought, but the contented purring from Alpine made him feel too relaxed to care.

Then there was Sam. Poor Sam.

Bucky couldn’t resist the urge to torment him. After all, the man deserved it for his constant teasing. He jumped onto Sam’s laptop as soon as he left it unattended, pressing his paws into the keys and smirking at the screen.

Perfect.

The next few minutes were filled with frantic typing and Sam’s growl of frustration. “Who… who put paw prints on my laptop?!” he fumed.

Later, Bucky decided it was time for some real fun. With a burst of energy, he took off running across the apartment. He zoomed down the hallway, skidded into the living room, then did it again. Fast as a bullet. Every so often, he’d pause mid-zoom to flip his tail with a dramatic flair, like he was waiting for an applause.

In the midst of it all, Nat was all too happy to indulge him. She reached down, scratching behind his ears as he meowed loudly, his little body practically vibrating with affection. You, too, couldn’t help but pet him. His fur was soft, and though he looked like he was plotting world domination, there was a clear contentment in his purring as you ran your fingers through his fur.

“You look ridiculous,” you teased, but there was a smile on your face as you gave his ears a good scratch. “But you’re still cute.”

Bucky, the cat version, gave you a glare that could melt steel. It didn’t stop him from curling up in your lap moments later, though, purring contentedly as you continued to pet him.

And the best part? Loki didn’t seem in any rush to reverse the spell.

Bucky may have been a cat, but as far as he was concerned, this was just a new battlefield. And he was winning.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Flufftober - Mistaken Identity

Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader

A.N. - I'm sorry, did you guys think I was just going to sit Flufftober out? Unfortunately, I run into the same problem I run into with all prompt challenges, I've already written many of the prompts so I just won't be doing all thirty one days, but we're gonna have fun anyway! And thank you to @flufftober for keeping this tradition alive!

Grumpy Sunshine Universe | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

The moment Bucky enters your apartment, he breathes a deep sigh of relief.

It's quiet, quaint. A sanctuary for only the two of you. And after the day he battled against, his home wraps around him like a warm blanket.

He tosses his keys down onto the side table, trudging down to your warm embrace.

The entire apartment is dim with only your string lights lighting up the space.

He smiles to himself as he finds you completely huddled up underneath the thick blanket, napping on the couch.

"Hi, honey," Bucky presses a kiss through the thick blanket. He'd asked you a million times over, and he knew you said you didn't mind if he woke you, but there was something so welcoming about the sight of you so at peace. He gives your hip a gentle squeeze, tracing a gentle pattern. "Honey? You're gonna suffocate yourself with the blanket over your face."

Bucky finds it odd that you don't stir at the gentle nudging. And he'd be concerned if he couldn't see the faint rise and fall of your breathing.

"Doll?" He finally caves, gently grabbing the corner of the blanket to untuck it from your face. Except it's not you. An involuntary shout falls from his mouth as he removes his hand like he's been burned. "Ah!"

"Ah!" Sam yelps.

"Sam, what the hell?" Bucky demands. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? What the hell are you doing feeling me up!?" Sam screeches.

"I thought you were - Wait, why am I explaining myself to you?" Bucky rants, his hands frantically flailing around him. "You're in my apartment! Taking a nap on my couch!"

"I had permission!"

Just as the words leave Sam's mouth, you burst through the door, your eyes frantically taking in the scene before you. "What's going on here?! I heard screaming from down the hall!"

Sam points an accusing finger at Bucky. "Bucky was feeling me up!"

"No! I mean, not no, but context! Context is important! I thought it was you were underneath the blanket!" Bucky explains in a high pitched, shrill tone.

You clap a hand over your mouth to smother your laughter at the scene.

Bucky grimaces, "It's not funny."

"It's a little funny." You pad over to Bucky, wrapping an arm around his waist. You gently pat his chest with a smirk, "And you know, I've never been in a love triangle before."

"This is not a love triangle!" he fumes. "It's the world's worst case of mistaken identity!"

Grumpy Sunshine Series Grumpy Sunshine Drabbles

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064 @michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1@double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep @lunaalovesyouu @daisy-loves-bucky@roseproseposts @theoraekenslover@king814318 @maybesomedaytho @carlie-babes99 @sunshinechikin @as-white-as-snow-love @melala1030 @badasswlthafatass @armystay89 @multiversefanfics @cherrysscinema @breathlesspieceofdeath @ravenn-darkholme @bxckybxrnes24 @guiltyasreid @bellabarnes1378 @blithecapricorn @mrsnikstan

[s0urw00lf]

Twisted luck

Woman in white

Sam Winchester x reader ALL INCLUSIVE

Summary: when Sam and dean show up in your living room telling you that you mother and john were missing you couldn’t leave them hanging. Besides it was only one hunt, one hunt can’t hurt right?

AN: I'm actually super proud of readers addition to the story. I hope everyone likes it!!! Also if you see any mistakes please let me know, I went over this 4 times. Twisted Luck master list

Next chapter

You usually slept all through the night when your boyfriend was home, the comfort of his presence behind you gave you the constant reminder that you aren’t alone anymore usually helped you sleep better, but recently you couldn't shake the feeling of doom that settled deep in your gut.

So you sat awake with the t.v. on low hoping that the soap opera playing would lull you to sleep, but you were the furthest from it and really wanted popcorn but you knew Jason would wake up if you were gone too long.

‘I'll just be quick’ you thought to yourself before carefully removing his arm from around your waist and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door so that if you made too much noise it wouldn’t wake him.

You walked to the kitchen rummaging through the cabinets in search of the popcorn, until you saw a glimpse of it on the third shelf, “Jason you ass” you muttered to yourself, climbing onto the counter reaching for it.

Your fingertips barely brushed the box before you found yourself pausing when you heard one of the floorboards creak, immediately you tensed from instinct.

Looking over to the bedroom you saw that the door was still closed so it couldn’t have been from your boyfriend.

You slowly climbed down off of the counter and bent down below the counters, opening up one of the lower cabinets you reached in feeling the top for the gun you had hidden before your boyfriend moved in, silently cursing to yourself when you realized it wasn’t there.

You looked around for another efficient weapon and your eyes landed on the rack of knives Jason insisted on buying for the kitchen. You grabbed the one that Jason had just sharpened the day before and began moving towards the sound.

It was as if the person you’d tried to bury for three years was seeping back out through the cracks. Your breath was even and your heart was beating steady. You knew whoever was in your home would regret even laying eyes on it when it was all said and done.

Your trained ears picked up the hushed whispers coming from the living room, you long ago memorized every nook and cranny of the apartment, down to which parts of the floors creaked and avoided them easily.

You peeked into the room and saw two tall figures one towering over the other immediately you knew who they were.

You placed your knife on the floor before you swiftly ran towards the shorter one wrapping your legs around his neck before twisting your body, causing his body to flip over and landing on his face. “Told ya” he groaned.

You stood up placing your hands on your hips and let a sly grin take form on your face “Hiya Dean” you said, then looked over to Sam who held an impressed expression. “I see you haven't lost your touch” he teased, moving to help Dean up.

“Over my dead body” You said, moving to flick on the lights and motioning for them to have a seat.

You sat on the couch in front of them crossing your legs out of habit from your job “so what's with the family reunion?” You asked, looking between the two of them.

Both Dean and Sam glanced at each other having a silent conversation that you completely understood. “Our parents are missing. They were on a hunting trip” Dean started. “And?” You questioned urging him to get on with the story.

“And that was about a month ago, haven’t heard from ‘em since” he continued. You eyed him “okay, well what were they hunting” you asked leaning forward.

Dean pulled out an article from his jacket pocket placing it on the coffee table “ they were checking out this two lane blacktop just outside of Jericho California. Around the time they left this guy-“ he pointed to the picture of a young guy “they found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA”

You skimmed over the article before glancing back up at the brothers “so what was he kidnapped?” You questioned, finally Sam spoke up, “that’s what i thought too but check this out, there was one in April, another one in ‘04, ‘03, ‘98, ‘92” he said as he handed you more articles of missing men. “Ten of them over the past twenty years” Dean said. “All men, all the same five mile stretch of road”.

”i'm guessing it got worse” you said and Dean nodded “so they went to dig around, I haven’t heard from them since. Then I got this voicemail yesterday.” He says as he pulls out a tape recorder before pressing play. The audio was scratchy and breaking up but you could make out John’s voice almost perfectly.

“Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.”

“You check it for EVP?” You asked, Dean gave you a grin telling you that he had “not too bad sweetheart” Dean shakes his head before “I slowed it down, ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss and this is what i got” he said pressing play again

“…. I can never go home”

Dean sets down the cassette tape and they both look at you expectantly. You sighed rolling your eyes, knowing your answer before they even ask ‘once a hunter always a goddamn hunter’ you thought, rolling your eyes. “So what do you think?” Sam asks, eyebrows pinched together as if he was trying to read you.

You looked back towards the bedroom, surprised your boyfriend hadn’t come out in search of you even through all the ruckus ‘it’s just one hunt. Right?’ You thought. “I think… we got ourselves a hunt boys”

At that a smile slipped on both boys faces and Dean let out a loud ‘whoop' causing you to let out a laugh before pausing, “just this one. I have a… life here” you explained, and just as quickly as it came it was gone, well for Dean at least. “Wha-“ he was cut off by the bedroom door creeping open and out walked Jason, his hair was messy from sleep but he looked confused at the two men you were so comfortable sitting with in the living room.

“The hell,” Dean muttered as he stood up. Before anyone could do or say anything you stood up “uh Jason this is Dean and Sam. I grew up with them.” You explained as Jason got closer a look of realization set on his face “uh nice to meet you” he said as he stepped to give the brothers a handshake, Dean eyed him but surprisingly shook his hand, and then he moved to Sam who gave you an unreadable look as he shook Jason’s hand.

You then decided to break the silence, looking at Jason “uh i need to talk to you” you said, he looked between you and the boys confused “sure okay” he said with a slow nod.

You glanced at Sam and Dean, giving them a look that meant ‘beat it’. Sam immediately picked up on it and cleared his throat “we’ll wait in the car” he said, stepping past Dean. Dean gave your boyfriend one last look as he followed Sam.

Once the boys were gone Jason gave you an expectant look, you sighed trying to think of the best way to tell him about the situation.

You’d never talked about your life before leaving hunting, especially not to your clueless boyfriend, no matter how annoyed it made him that you knew more about him than he did you. “I'm going on a trip with them, just a… family thing.” You began.

Jason scoffed “so you just decide at what-“ he paused to check his watch “four in the morning to go on a family trip?” He asked, tilting his head.

You slowly nodded her head “yeah, just family stuff” you shrugged, Jason rolled his eyes at you “babe the most I’ve ever heard about your family were their names. You don't visit them during holidays, or birthdays. To be completely honest I thought they didn’t exist.” He said rubbing a hand through his hair.

You scoffed, taken aback by his comment, walking away from him and going to your shared room to pack. “Where are you going?” He called, following after.

“To pack my stuff, so I can go on a roadtrip with my ‘imaginary’ family” you sarcastically remarked, grabbing your old hunting bag and subtly placing the box full of your old hunting gear in it before moving to pack some clothes.

Jason sighed “look babe, I didn’t mean it like that. All i'm saying is it's a little weird they show up randomly at four in the morning and demand a road trip” he defended himself.

You threw her head back in irritation. Not at him but more so that you’d been born into such an odd, unexplainable family life, “can you at least tell me where you're going” he asked defeated.

You put your head down, clenching your eyes shut hoping that this moment would end already, “my mother is missing.” You stiffly admitted.

Jason let out a scoff, when you looked at him he looked about ready to lose his mind because you’d lost yours. “Your mother is missing and instead of calling the cops you go on a road trip?” He asked, not really being able to believe what he was hearing.

You paused “you wanted to know my family? Here’s a glance into my world.” You said, zipping up the duffel bag. Looking at Jason you could see the confused and helpless look on his face, sighing as you walked towards him and pressing a kiss to his lips, before pulling away, brushing the stubble on his chin with your thumb “i'll only be gone three days tops, ‘kay? Then when i get back you can ask me anything and i'll do my best to answer” you promised

Jason looked like he was studying your face for the last time “okay” he said, you nodded leaning in to give him one last kiss before you departed “ill see you soon, i lo-“ you cut yourself off before you could even start.

Jason nodded again, giving your hips a squeeze and pressing a long kiss to your forehead, before you backed away.

Sometime after getting in the car your body finally allowed you to sleep, maybe it was the sound of baby’s engine lulling you to sleep like it used to all those years ago, or maybe it was the sense that nothing would hurt you while you’re with Sam and Dean and that allowed the feeling in your gut to settle.

When you woke up, the sun was up and the car was no longer moving. Sam was sitting half way out of the front seat looking at the box of cassette tapes Dean inherited from john. “Where’s Dean?” You asked, catching Sam’s attention.

He gestured to the old looking gas station. You took in the surroundings and grimaced “charming” you muttered to herself as you got out of the car, to stretch your legs.

You were finally able to take a good look at Sam and suddenly a wave of nostalgia hit you like a truck.

Though he’d gotten taller and more lean since the last time you saw him, you felt like that nineteen year old girl on the road with her boyfriend and best friend, and a sense of longing filled you quickly seeping into her chest, but you shut it down before you could dwell too much on it.

You had a new life now, better, safer, and a boyfriend you couldn’t wait to get back home and see. Though you weren’t excited for the ‘ghosts, goblins, and vampires are real’ talk.

You moved towards Sam and leaned over him to peek into the box to see the same old cassette tapes he had when you left. Not one more or less.

“He seriously needs new music,” you joked, pulling out a cassette labeled ‘AC/DC’. “Tell me about it,” Sam laughed, causing you to smile. “Hey” Dean called from behind the car, catching you and Sam’s attention. He held up some snacks he bought while in the gas station. “Want breakfast?” He asked

“No thanks” Sam said, returning his attention back to the tapes. Dean then looked to you questioningly “im fine, but i will take that” you pointed to the drink in his hand. He tossed it to you and you caught it effortlessly. “So how’d you pay for that stuff? You and dad still running credit card scams?” Sam asked. You snorted “you’re surprised?”

“Yeah well hunting ain’t exactly a pro-ball career” Dean replied as he put the gas pump back where it belongs. “Besides all we do is apply, not our fault they send us the cards”. You raised your eyebrows in agreement “can't exactly argue with that” you said, getting back into the car. “Yeah, and what name did you write on the application this time?” Sam re-adjusted himself in the seat before closing the door.

Dean paused before he got in the car “uh Bert afframnian, and his son hector. Scored two cards out of the deal.” Dean smiled proudly. Sam laughed “sounds about right” he said. “I swear man, you gotta update your cassette tape collection” Sam said, causing Dean to frown “why?” He asked.

“Well for one there cassette tapes” you interjected putting your head in between theirs, Sam began to pick up singular cassettes and list the names “and two, Black Sabbath, motor head, metallica” Sam finished as Dean snatched the tape from his hand looking very offended.

“It’s the greatest hits of mullet rock, Dean there’s a whole world of music you’ve left undiscovered. You’d love Avril Lavigne” you teased causing Sam to laugh. Dean placed the cassette in the player “house rules Sammy, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole, and you stay in the back seat” he said pushing your head back so you were sitting correctly before starting the car.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother ”Sammy is a chubby twelve year old, it's Sam” he tried to correct. You laughed “good luck trying to make that stick sammy” you said before Dean turned up the music. “Sorry I can't hear you, the music’s too loud,” Dean said before pulling off. The sound of the engine giving her another wave of nostalgia, maybe you had missed this more than you let yourself believe.

“Okay thanks” you said before closing your phone, “so there’s nobody at the morgue matching mom or john’s description, so that’s a start” you tell the boys. Sam nods at the information while Dean pulls off to the side of the road, his attention set on the bridge just ahead crossed off with yellow tape.

“Check it out” he said before opening the glove box and pulling out another box filled with fake ids, he smirked at you and Sam before getting out of the car “let's go”. You and Sam looked at each other with worry, both of your carriers were on the line if you got caught, you tilted your head “we have to” you said, before following Dean out the car, Sam not too far behind.

You, Sam and Dean walked onto the crime scene taking in every piece of information you could. “I’m guessing that’s the sheriff”, you pointed to a man looking over the bridge before moving to talk to another officer who looked to be dusting for fingerprints inside the car.

“No sign of struggle, no footprints, fingerprints spotless, it’s almost too clean” the officer said to the sheriff. The man sighed at the information “so this kid Troy, he’s dating your daughter isn’t he? How’s Amy doing?” The sheriff asked the officer.

“She’s putting up missing posters downtown” he answered. Dean walked toward them interrupting their conversation “you fellas had one like this last month didn’t you?” He spoke loudly, catching the sheriff's attention. “And who are you?” He asked, causing Dean to flash his fake badge “federal marshals” Dean answered.

The man did a once over at the three of them, none of them looking a say over 20 “you three are a little young for Marshall’s aren’t you?” You and Sam smirked at each other while Dean laughed “thanks that’s awfully kind of you” he said before moving on quickly “you did have another one just like this correct?” He asked. The sheriff nodded “yeah that’s right, about a mile down the road. There’ve been others before that.” He said.

You walked over to the car leaning down to get a closer inspection “do you mind if i uh…” you asked, gesturing to the car, the sheriff nodded “go ahead, but there’s nothing there. We swept it from top to bottom” he said. You smiled “I’m sure, I just want to get a good look myself” you said. You began to inspect the car making sure not to touch anything or leave any kind of DNA just in case.

Sam and Dean continued questioning the sheriff while you inspected the car, and so far you came up with nothing. The car’s clean, eerily so. Maybe some small part of you began to believe that whatever was here took your parents, that maybe they didn’t skip town to lead their kids on a manhunt for them, but then again they were too stubborn to die by the hands of something as little as a pissed off spirit.

Dean walked over beside you “anything?” He whispered, you shook your head “nothing, almost like he was never even here” you told him, standing up. “So what's the theory?” Sam asked, walking over to where you and Dean stood. The man shrugged “Honestly? We don’t know, serial murder, kidnapping ring” the sheriff answered.

“That is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys-“ Dean was cut off by Sam stomping on his foot. Your eyes widened but you covered it with a smile “please excuse us, we're done here” you said, pushing Sam and Dean to walk past the confused man “thank you for your time” Sam said giving a quick smile.

Sam walked ahead of you and Dean and she could tell he was irritated just by the way he was walking. Dean looked back to see if any of the police were looking before he slapped the back of Sam’s head. “Ow!” Sam whispered with clenched teeth.

You rolled your eyes at their antics, not in the mood for their arguing, you walked ahead of the both of them, somehow being the only one to catch the three men walking towards the three of you.

Two of whom were real FBI agents, you paused your walking backtracking a few steps and turned to both Sam and Dean who had his back toward you, you caught Sam’s eye over Dean's shoulder and gestured to the men behind her. Sam cleared his throat trying to send the message to his brother. Dean turned just as the men reached them.

“Can I help you kids?” The local officer's demeanor was a lot more authoritative than the others. You gave the men a charming smile “oh no sir, we just wanted to know what happened, we were just leaving” you said, not dropping the innocent act.

You led the brothers away from the bridge and back to the car, shaking your head the whole way.

When they all got back in the car you spoke “i say we go talk to that Amy girl”

Downtown

You, Sam and Dean walked downtown in search of Amy for about five minutes until all of your eyes landed on a girl putting up ‘missing’ posters. “I bet you that’s her” Dean said, you and Sam agreed.

The three of you walked up to the girl “you must be Amy” Dean said, the girl nodded as she taped up a poster. You stepped in front of Dean “yeah Troy told us about you, I’m y/n, this is Dean and Sammy were his aunt and uncles”, Amy eyed you weirdly, Sam and Dean could pass but you not so much.

Dean must’ve noticed because he nudged you toward Sam’s side and you caught on pretty quickly, wrapping your arm around him.

You couldn’t see Sam’s face but you were sure it was something along the lines of shock, then a look from you to Dean then quickly covering it with a tight lipped smile as he stiffly tugged you in closer.

Amy must’ve accepted the facade as she returned to putting up the posters “he never mentioned you to me” she said before turning to walk. The three of you followed and you and Sam let Dean take the lead in talking “yeah well that’s Troy i guess, we’re not around much we’re up in Modesto” he lied.

Sam broke away from you making you frown a bit, watching him move in front of Amy bringing her walk to a halt. “So we’re looking for him too and were kind of asking around-“ Sam was cut off by another girl stopping next to Amy asking her if she was okay, you assumed she was her friend.

“Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?” You asked to which Amy agreed.

Amy and her friend led the three of you to a cafe, it was dark inside no thanks to the lack of sunshine outside, you sat between Dean and Sam whilst the two teenage girls sat on the other side.

Amy began telling you about the last time she and Troy spoke “I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did.” She said.

Sam leaned forward, more intrigued. “He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?” He asked. Amy shook her head, a frown painted on her face “no. Nothing I can remember” she said.

You glanced down at Amy’s necklace. It was a pentagram “i like your necklace” you complemented. Amy glanced down at the necklace and smiled “thanks, Roy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff.” She laughed at the memory.

Sam huffed out a laugh beside you “Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.”, you raised your brows not expecting Sam to go full on encyclopedia. “Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries.” Dean said earning a bitch face from Sam

Dean took his arm off the back of the seat and leaned forward. “Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything” Dean trailed off noticing the look Amy and Rachel give to each other “What is it?” You ask, tilting your head slightly.

“Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk.” Rachel started “What do they talk about?” The brothers say in unison, creeping you out just a little bit “It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered on Centennial, like decades ago.” Rachel continues to explain.

Dean gives you and Sam a look you returned with a glance while Sam continues to listen to Rachel’s story “Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.”

Sam and Dean looked at each other. “We got a lead,” you muttered under your breath to the brothers.

You sat in a chair to the side watching as Dean typed on the computer, coming up with nothing every time he pressed enter. Sam tried to take over the computer “let me try.” He said, but Dean smacked Sam’s hand away, “I got it,” he grumbled.

Sam sighed, pushing Dean's chair out of the way and scooted his closer, “dude!” Dean says hitting Sam’s shoulder, though the younger Winchester didn’t even spare him a glance “you’re such a control freak” Deans says and he scoots closer.

You smiled at their bickering, you didn’t miss the blow out fights you all used to have but you did miss the moments like these that you found yourself thinking about often causing a comforting feeling to spread in your chest.

“So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?” Sam asks.

“Right” you confirmed, scooting closer to get a better look at the computer. “Well maybe it’s not murder” he says replacing ‘murder’ with ‘suicide’ in the search bar then pressing enter, an article popped up titled ‘suicide on Centennial’.

“I think he's got you beat Dean-o” you sarcastically remarked, earning a glare from Dean.

Sam opened the article dated back to April 25, 1981. “This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river.” Sam reads, Dean leaned forward “does it say why she did it?” He asked.

“Yeah” you answered, “what?” “Says an hour before they found her, she called 911. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die.’” You read, sympathy settled in your gut for the woman.

Sam continued reading “‘Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch." Sam says as he scrolled, a picture of the bridge you were at before showed itself on the screen “that bridge looks familiar to you?” Dean says.

SYLVANIA BRIDGE

By nightfall you, Sam, and Dean were back walking down the bridge, you all stopped to look over the railing down into the rushing river, “so this is where Constance took the swan dive” Deans said, before continuing on walking.

You and Sam followed “so you think they would’ve been here?” Sam asks Dean, Dean looks back at the two of you “well he’s chasing the same story and we're chasing him” Deans answered.

You sighed, continuing your walk. “Okay, so now what?” You and Sam simultaneously ask. You could tell Dean was purposefully not looking back at you and Sam “Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while.” Dean answered slowly.

You and Sam stop, glancing at each other before looking at Dean. Sam sighs “Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday-“ Dean cuts Sam off as he turns around “Monday. Right. The interview” he says, cutting a glance at you.

You shrugged, while you didn’t have any important plans like Sam, you still had to get home to Jason “i gotta get home Dean” you said.

“You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become a Lawyer? Marry your girl?” Dean asks, and something struck your heart, the thought of your first love marrying someone else, you pushed it away. “Maybe, why not?” Sam answered.

Dean looked at you “you gonna marry that guy hmm? Knowing he can't protect you? Being normal while knowing the truth about the things that come out at night?” He asked, stepping towards you.

You shrugged, getting irritated. “If that's what happens, yeah Dean, why is that so bad?” You questioned, you thought when you left Dean was happy for you, supportive at least but you could see now it was a facade.

“Do they even know the truth, i mean do they know about the things you’ve done?” Dean asks. Sam steps forward “ no and she’s not ever going to know” “that’s not gonna happen” both you and Sam said at the same time.

Dean paused, raising his eyebrows “Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.” Dean said as he turned and kept walking.

You sighed, knowing that Dean was just upset. He wanted things to go back to how they were with you, your mom, Sam, John and him. He wanted his family back and you couldn’t fault him for it.

But the way he was going about it wasn’t the right way. Sam however feeds into it “and who’s that?” He asks. “You're one of us.” Dean answers, making Sam rush to get in front of Dean.

“No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.” Sam finalized, Dean rolled his eyes “You have a responsibility to-“ Sam cut Dean off “To our parents? And their crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like.” He said before pointing to you, “she’s been on the receiving end of y/m/n’s anger about y/f/n’s death her whole life” he continued, your chest tightened a little at his words, you’d never admitted it to anyone other than Sam when you were barley thirteen.

“And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, they’re gone. And they aren’t coming back.”he finished. Dean grabbed Sam by his collar and shoved him up against the railing of the bridge, making you step forward “hey! Calm down” you shouted, Dean ignored you.

“Don’t ever talk about her like that”Dean warned before releasing Sam from his grip and continuing on his walk. Sam looked at you seeing your expression “y/n i-“ you cut him off “don’t, just don’t.”

You walked past him, it wasn’t what he said about your father that upset you, you’d accepted it a long time ago, but him telling Dean something you admitted to him after he found you crying, hit a nerve.

When you looked ahead your heart skipped a beat, not far ahead of you was Dean, but what caught your eye was the woman in the white dress standing on the ledge of the bridge.

“Sam.” Dean called, not taking his eyes off the woman, Sam moved to stand next to Dean and the tree of you watched the woman look at you before stepping off the ledge, you immediately sprint towards where she was, but when you got there she was gone “where’d she go?” Sam asked, “I don't know,” you said looking down at the river for the second time that night.

The sound of the impala starting immediately caught you and the brother’s attention, the headlights shined bright and the engine revved loudly. “Shit” you muttered. “Who’s driving your car?” Sam asks. Dean pulled the keys out of his pocket and you glance at them and roll your eyes “great”.

As soon as the words slipped past your lips the car began speeding towards the three of you, you didn’t waste any time taking off in a sprint, Sam and Dean weren’t far behind you and you could hear one of them yelling “go go run”.

They caught up to you fairly quickly thanks to their long legs, Sam grabbed your wrist pulling you with him as he jumped over the railing after Dean. Luckily he hadn’t let go because your foot slipped off of the side leaving you dangling over the river, holding on to nothing but Sam.

“Don’t let me go!” You shouted over the loud rushing of water below you. “It’s okay i got you” Sam said, pulling you back up, and this time you were careful with your footing.

You let out a breath “thanks” you huffed, Sam smiled “no problem”. His smile warms your heart and you fight the blush threatening to show on your cheeks. You looked back over the railing to see baby parked as if nothing happened.

Looking around you couldn’t spot Dean anywhere “where’s Dean?” You asked Sam. The both of you looked over the ledge, shouting Dean's name. After two calls you saw something crawl out of the water covered in mud “what!” It shouted.

It was Dean, “are you okay?” You shouted, Dean put up an OK sign with his hand “I’m super” he said. You and Sam smiled glancing at each other before climbing back over the railing.

Not long after Dean closed the hood of the impala “car alright?” Sam asked. “Yeah whatever she did to it, seems alright now. That Constance chick, what a bitch!” Dean shouted into the distance.

You came up beside him “well she doesn’t want us digging around that’s for sure” Sam said, and you hummed in agreement “So where's the job go from here, genius?” You asked Dean who just flicked the mud off of his hands in response.

Just then the wind blew and your nose caught the smell wafting from Dean making you cringe. You saw Sam making the same face before looking at Dean “you smell like a toilet” he said, you smiled, holding your laughter at the look on Dean's face.

“One room please” Dean said, dropping the card on the guest registry list, the old man at the front desk picked up the card eyeing Dean's muddy attire, before looking at you then Sam.

“You guys having a reunion or something?” The clerk asked, your brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” Sam asked, speaking your mind. I had another guy, Burt Aframian came in with his wife. He came and bought out a room for the whole month.” The man said. Dean turned and gave you and Sam a look.

You stood beside Dean completely blocking the view of anyone looking while Sam picked the lock to the room your mother and John stayed in. The door creaked open and you followed Sammy into the room.

You looked around in shock and Sam yanked Dean into the room and closed the door. “Woah” was all Sam could muster up. The room was a mess as if they just vanished, a suitcase thrown over the bed, food wrappers were still on the nightstand.

And papers were still thumb tacked to the wall. You stepped over the ring of salt and further into the room not paying any attention to Dean sniffing the day's old burger. You moved to pick through the discarded suitcase that was unmistakably your mothers, not listening to the conversation Sam and Dean were having.

Your heart sped up feeling as if you were about to commit a crime when you opened the suitcase, you would’ve never heard the end of it if your mother ever caught you going through her personal belongings.

Her clothes were inside neatly stored in rows of shirts, pants and whatever else, however nothing could’ve prepared you when you pulled a knife out of the bottom. The blade was covered by a white sheath.

You pulled the knife out of the sheath to take a look at the blade. It was long about the size of a ruler, and the brand new white leather on the handle made your breath hitch.

It looked exactly the same as your mothers, the one your father had gifted her the day of your birth, you turned the knife to look at the bottom and your initials and a date was engraved in a small font. “Hey Sam?” You called, catching him and Dean's attention. “Yeah?” He said moving towards you.

“What’s today’s date?” You asked. Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion but still pulled his phone out to check “it’s November second, why?”. You turned to face the brothers showing them the knife.

Dean opened his mouth to speak “is that-“ “no, it looks like hers but it has my initials and today’s date. What does that mean?” You asked. Sam and Dean looked at each other unsure themselves.

You excused yourself from the motel so you could call Jason and update him a bit, the phone rang a few times before Jason’s cheery voice greeted you ‘Hey Jason here, I couldn’t come to the phone. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you when I can’. Voicemail.

You started to feel that feeling settle in your stomach again. So you called again, and again voicemail. Every time. “Son of a bitch” you said tilting your head back. After a few more tries and still no luck you re-entered the room again.

Sam looked up at you from one of the two beds in the room. He turned off his phone, he must’ve been calling Jessica and had just about the same amount of luck as you.

You plopped down on the other bed letting out a breath, you and Sam sat in a comfortable silence until you broke it. “How’s college life treating you?” You asked, looking at him. Sam looked back at you from his seated position and smiled, “it’s great, yeah. Normal” he said.

You smiled, “I bet, can't imagine Sam Winchester at a college party” you laughed at the thought, Sam laughed along with you shaking his head “yeah no it’s not really my scene” he said. You smiled, “so, what have you been up to since you left hunting?” Sam asked you. You paused, huffing out a laugh i uh- I’ve been looking to join the FBI. Behavioral analyses specifically.” You admitted.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “The FBI? Y/n that’s great! I mean what-“ Sam cut himself off with a scoff.

You smiled “yeah i know i uh got into Yale, not long after i left and majored in criminal justice and psychology. Got through it pretty fast, thanks to hunting I mean it was pretty easy to grasp.” You shrugged.

“Y/n this is big! Does anybody know-“ Sam was cut off by Dean swinging the bathroom door open “know what?” He asked, grabbing his jacket off of the coat rack. “Uh nothing” you said before Sam could say anything.

Sam picked up on your hesitance and sent Dean a tight lipped smile. He looked between the two of you weirdly before shrugging it off. “Anyway, I'm starving. I'm gonna go grab something to eat at that diner down the street” Dean said “want anything?” He asked.

“No thanks” “no” you and Sam said. “You sure? Aframian’s buying” he said, both you and Sam declined again. Dean shrugged and stepped out of the door.

When the door closed you turned back to Sam “I haven’t told anyone. Just you.” you said, Sam looked at you with understanding. “Well maybe we’ll work together on a case,” he said with a smile. “You bet law boy”.

After the conversation ended, Sam began to fill you in on the woman in white legends that you missed earlier, but he wasn’t able to get very far in because your phone began to ring.

You picked it up hoping it’d be Jason, it wasn’t it was Dean. You sighed, answering “yeah?” You answered.

“Dude, five-oh take off.” You whipped your head to Sam “what about you” you asked standing up “they kinda spotted me. Go find our parents” he says then he hangs up.

“We gotta go, cops. They’ve got Dean already” you said. Sam moves to look out of the window but quickly backs away when he sees the cop start towards the room.

After you and Sam escaped you both split up, Sam went to speak to Constance’s husband and you went to figure out a way to get Dean out of the hole. Which wasn’t too hard, all you had to do was shoot a few rounds and then call it in, waiting for the cops to leave and let Dean do his part.

While you were waiting Sam called you “got anything?” You asked, “so the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house.” He said.

You looked at your surroundings, you weren’t far from the old Welch house “okay, how bout i meet you there?” You suggested, eyeing the small blue car you were passing. “Wait, what about Dean?” He asked

you smirked “Deans fine, trust me”. Sam nodded, though you couldn’t see “and uh, how do you plan to get there?” He asked, and just as he finished his question he heard a car alarm go off, he scoffed with a smile “you're stealing a car?” He said.

You shrugged “what can i say Sammy, old habits die hard”. Sam rolled his eyes “okay meet you there”

While you were driving your phone rang again, the id wasn’t one you knew but you answered none the less. “Hello?” You said.

“Sam’s in trouble” Dean's voice rang out. Your eyebrows furrowed “what how?” You asked, speeding the car up a little. “No time to explain, just get to the Welch house” he said before hanging up. “Damn it Sam” you said driving way past speeding limits.

When you arrived you started to hear gunshots, telling you that either of them beat you there. You stopped the car seeing Dean holding his shotgun, shooting at Constance’s spirit with a… salt round?

You shook off your confusion before getting out of the car and running towards him. But before you reached them the impala took off and crashed into the side of the house. Suddenly the voice rang through your head ‘I can never go home’ you almost laughed to yourself. He took her home.

Hurriedly you ran towards the passenger side beside Dean. “Sam! Sam, you okay?” Dean asked, Sam groaned, causing relief to spread through you “I think..” Sam said.

“Can you move?” You asked. Sam nodded his head “yeah, can you help me” he asked, and Dean helped Sam out of the car.

When Sam was out of the car you noticed Constance holding a frame, most likely of her family, until she looked up at the tree of you and dropped the frame, stepping out of the way and pushing you guys against the car with the dresser.

You groaned when the dresser hit your hips and it was for sure to leave a bruise, even with you and the boys combined strength you couldn’t move the dresser.

Constance stepped towards you with malice in her eyes, but stopped when the lights started flickering. You looked around in confusion at her confusion.

Then water began flowing down the stairs and you saw shadows of two small children at the top. ‘You’ve come home to us mommy’ the children said, sending goosebumps down your spine.

Suddenly the children were behind Constance, she turned and looked at the children who embraced her in a hug causing her to scream, soon enough all three spirits were reduced to a puddle on the floor.

The hold on the dresser disappeared and you guys were able to push the dresser off of you. You walked over to the puddle with Sam and Dean in tow “ So this is where she drowned her kids.” Dean said.

You and Sam nodded “that’s why she could never go home, she was too scared to face them” Sam replied.

You frowned “it’s tragic what heartbreak can do to someone” you said. There was a silence before Dean slapped Sam’s chest “you found her weak spot. Nice work Sammy” Dean complemented proudly. Sam winced at the impact but shrugged it off with a laugh.

“Yeah, I wish I could say the Same to you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?” Sam joked “Hey. Saved your ass.” Dean replied, moving to look at the car. “I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?” Dean turned around to look at Sam. “I'll kill you.” He pointed. You and Sam looked at each other with huge grins

And just like that you were back on the road headed home. Sam in the passenger seat held a flashlight so he could see the map “okay, here’s where they went. It’s called black Water Ridge, Colorado” Sam said.

You leaned forward looking over his shoulder “how far?” You asked. Sam glanced back at you before looking at the map “about six hundred miles” he answered. You hummed, sitting back in your seat.

Dean nodded along to the music “Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning.” He said. You and Sam paused glancing at each other. “Dean-“ you started but was cut off by Dean “you’re not coming” he said nodding. “The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there.” Sam says, Dean looks back at you through the rear view mirror.

“I have a job Dean… and Jason’s expecting me-“ Dean cut you off “yeah whatever, I’ll take you home” he said, you could hear the disappointment in his tone. You sighed

laying your head against the headrest.

When you got to Sam's apartment you waited for him and Dean to say their goodbyes before you got out of the car calling his name. 

He turned around and you wrapped your arms around him. He hugged you back with a laugh, “it was good seeing you sammy” you said, pulling away. He nodded “yeah, you too… see you at work?” he asked. 

You smiled, nodding “see you at work” you confirmed. Before getting back in the car, the front seat this time. Before pulling off, Dean looked at you with a smirk causing you to roll your eyes. “Knock it off Winchester,” you joked.

 Dean laughed before pulling off. You weren't able to get very far before your stomach began burning like molten hot lava in your organs. 

You whimpered, holding your stomach in pain. The sound caught the older Winchester's attention as he began shaking you and saying something you couldn't make out. 

But what you could make out were the flashing images in your head. Blood and fire. It was everywhere like a massacre. 

When the images went away the pain faded slightly and you were finally able to say “Dean, go back, we have to go back.” the look in your eyes must've scared him because he didn't waste any time swerving the car around.

When you got back to sams apartment it was already on fire and before the vehicle was stopped you were out ant running towards it

Dean wasn’t far behind you and it didn’t take any time for you to reach his apartment, Dean kicked down the door and you both ran in. Sam was on his bed staring up at the ceiling in shock shouting Jess's name.

As much as you wished you could save the girl she was already gone so you and Dean dragged Sam out of the apartment, it wasn’t an easy fight given Sam’s height and strength but you did it nonetheless.

However getting Sam out didn’t stop the burning feeling in your stomach, the ambulance arrived on the scene officially announcing Jessica dead, and you saw the emotion drain from Sam’s face, it was as if a switch flipped inside of him, he walked off leaving you with Dean.

You looked at the older Winchester with teary eyes “Dean you have to take me home. Please.” You begged. Dean looked at you with sorrow as if he already knew. You both knew what it meant but you wouldn’t believe it. No you wouldn’t accept it. He saw the inner turmoil in your eyes and nodded “okay, let’s go.” He said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

He led you back to the car where Sam had been putting a shotgun together with tears in his eyes. He looked at you then Dean, before shaking his head, throwing the gun back into the trunk. “We got work to do”

On the drive Dean quietly filled Sam in on what happened with you, though you weren’t too sure he was listening. You weren’t listening either, you were busy calling Jason’s phone over and over and over.

Every time the call went to voicemail the burning sensation got worse. When Dean parked outside of your apartment building you wasted no time getting out.

You heard both of their doors open as well and Dean called your name. You turned around to look at him, eye’s nothing but teary. “You want us to come with?” He asked. You looked between him and Sam, who looked like he couldn’t handle much more tonight.

You shook your head not trusting your voice enough to speak. Dean nodded “we’ll be right here if you need us” he said. You nodded, before turning around and continuing your walk.

The whole way to your apartment you held your new knife in your hand, when you reached your door you paused, not sure if you really wanted to enter, however you pushed the feeling down and opened the door.

Immediately the smell of blood hit you, the metallic smell seemed so strong it almost gave you a headache. Tears began to freely fall down your face when you saw the puddle of blood leaking from the other side of the kitchen counter.

Carefully you stepped over the pool of blood and walked further in, that’s when you saw him. He was on the floor, his face bruised and neck slashed.

Your heart shattered, and you began to hyperventilate as you dropped to your knees, not caring anymore about his blood staining your clothes.

You placed a soft hand on his face, it was still warm and your tears dripped onto his cheeks “please, Jason please im sorry. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have left. I could've protected you. I'm so sorry” you sobbed.

The longer you looked at him the more it hurt. You began to shiver from the feeling of your clothes soaked with his blood and the heartbreak that was crushing your chest.

But you didn’t care “no, no, no, this wasn’t supposed to happen to you.” You laid your head against his chest, hoping to hear a heartbeat.

But it was silent. Your sobs filled the air around you, until you heard footsteps enter the apartment.

You picked up the previously discarded knife with shaky unstable hands ready to fight whoever, but it was just Sam and Dean.

You saw Dean first, he stopped in shock and Sam wasn’t far behind. They took in the scene, your bruised bleeding boyfriend, and your completely broken state.

You seemed to be covered in his blood which made it worse. Neither of the brothers knew what to say or do and Sam looked on the verge of crying again too.

Dean moved to pick you up out of the bloody mess until he saw bloody writing on the wall ‘you were too late’.

Sam saw what his brother was looking at,and you turned to see. The bloody letters dripped down the wall as if it was still fresh.

Dean shook his head, picking you up from the ground. You hardly made any effort to fight him off and Dean thanked God for it because even though you were now a grown woman, he still saw you as that little girl he always protected. And you need that now more than ever.

[curly-fry-3]

i have a request. I don't know if they are still open but here we go. Dean x reader, where reader is possessed and tries to kill the brothers, but they exorcise her. She has weak health so when the demon is out, she gets ill. Fluff after that. Love your writing!

𖦹Possessed𖦹

summary𖦹 You get possessed and Dean takes care of you

pairing𖦹 Dean Winchester x Reader

word count𖦹 1,190

notes𖦹 I hope you like this. this is my first time writing a fight scene so it might not be spectacular. also just fyi, learned this the hard way, writing someone who's possessed it HARD

also I didn't fully proofread it, I kinda skimmed it (sorry its like midnight and I have school tomorrow lol)

Holy shit. This is probably the worst you've ever felt. Being trapped in your mind with no control over your actions, demons suck. Of course you would be targeted, being close with the Winchesters always got you in trouble–damn Dean and his charming smile that lured you in. You and Dean had been together for almost a year, you two had met through Bobby when he needed help translating some ancient spell. Of course Dean hit on you like there was no tomorrow and of course you fell for him and you've been going strong ever since. You help Dean and Sam with researching and questioning people for information. Dean would die before he let you actually fight, especially because you already got sick so easily, he didn't want more strain on your body. That's how the demon had found you.

You were walking back to the motel after questioning the victim's husband. It was dark out and you had this creepy feeling, like someone was watching you. You had quicked your steps, hoping to get back to the motel–and Dean–before something could jump out at you. Unluckily for you, you were being watched by a demon, and you would never be able to outrun it. When the black smoke entered you and you were no longer in control, your body continued to head to the motel–to Dean and Sam. You tried to take control of your body, you have no idea what you would do to them but you know it wouldn't be good, but you weren't strong enough.

Soon you made it to the motel and walked through the door, strolling in like nothing was wrong. Sam was sitting at the small table near the door on his laptop and dean was laying in your shared bed reading up on some lore. When you enter Dean looks up and smiles at you in greeting “hey babe, any leads”

“Oh no nothing” the demon said, taking of your suit jacket and shoes and sitting on the bed next to dean

Dean looks at you confused “sweetheart, is something wrong”

“What, no, why” the demon responds, pretending to be just as confused

His face hardens as he gets up from the bed and stands against the nightstand, reaching for the demon blade in the top drawer behind his back. “You're not her”

Sam is listening in on the conversation and immediately goes into battle mode when he hears Dean's tone. He stands up as well and reaches for his gun on the table next to him, silently sizing you up.

When the demon realizes it's been found it drops the innocent act and you stand up facing the boys, getting ready to fight them. “Oh you're very observant, Dean, you know I thought I had about an hour till you figured me out…guess I'm not that great of an actress.” The demon says, with a sinister smile on your face. “Oh well, i'll still get to kill you two” You look over to sam. “Don't try and pull a fast one, I know you don't wanna hurt this little meatsuit.” You turn back to dean “especially you ... .you know, her first thought when I took over for her was that she didn't wanna hurt you…so sweet it makes me sick. You two are just gross.”

Dean look at you with a warning gaze “don't you dare hurt her, you son of a bitch”

The demon chuckles “oh, baby, you're gonna be the one doing all the damage” 

A look of realization flashes over Dean's face and he drops the demon blade in his hand–he would never hurt you. You pull out the knife from your belt and lunge at him. He dodges your attack, tripping you, and you end up on the floor, Your knife across the room, with him standing over you, Sam in his duffle bag getting holy water. From your position on the motel carpet you quickly kick upwards, hitting Dean in the balls. While you're getting up, Sam comes over and you punch the back of his knee, making him bend forward–losing his balance. Before you can get far, Dean has recovered from his hit and grabs you and pins you down. “Sam now!”

Sam splashes you with holy water and begins exorcizing you. If you thought being possessed sucked, being exorcized was ten times worse. By the time it was done you were so weak you couldn't home yourself up. Thankfully Dean was holding you. “Shit, baby I got you”

You look up at him weakly with tears in your eyes “I'm so sorry. I tried to take control, I really tried.”

Dean gently lays you down on the bed, giving Sam a look saying that he needs some alone time with you. He brings his attention back to you as Sam heads outside and you continue to apologize. “Sweetheart, it's not your fault” he starts taking care of you, changing you out of your FBI uniform and into your pajamas. “Don't, even for a second, think that it's your fault” He pauses after you're dressed and wipes the tears from your eyes as you're propped up on the pillows. “Are you comfortable baby? I know that was a lot for you.”

“I'm so tired, my body aches” You complain looking up at him with red rimmed eyes “I didn't wanna hurt you”

He looks at you with a reassuring smile “trust me, you didn't”

“But i kicked you in the balls” you say concerned

He grimaces at the memory,“And I handled it” Dean sits on the bd next to you and rubs your calf comfortingly, “do you need anything”

“I just want you to hold me” you answer, pulling him down into your embrace

He immediately reciprocates your hug, wrapping you in his warm comforting arms, You let out a deep breath of air in relief, your achy muscles already feeling better. When Dean gets situated next to you melt into his arms and rest your head on his chest. “Better?” He asks

“Way better” you confirm. “You always make everything better”

He softly smiles at your statement and kisses the top of your head. He rubs your back in soothing, comforting motions. “I try”

You look up at him guiltily, “I should be the one comforting you, I tried to kill you”

He shakes his head in disagreement, “that wasn't you. And besides, you're way too weak to do any comforting. That demon did more damage to you than me.”

“I still feel bad” you look away, sheepishly

Dean playfully rolls his eyes and his hand stops its movement on your back. “Dont…I love you ok…I just wanna make sure your ok”

You look back to him “I love you too”

Not needing to say anything else, you curl back up into him and his hand resumes it's comforting pattern. Sure, being close with the Winchesters made you a target to monsters across America, but Dean was always there to protect and comfort you.

You kiss Dean's chest then mutter into his shirt, “I really need to get that anti possession tattoo.”

sorry if there are any typos

love y'all

[mrs-pondwater19]

~Slow Recovery~

-Sam Winchester x Fem Reader

-Synopsis: Sam slips up in his recovery after a particularly bad hunt. Returning home having to face you with his shame. But even in your disappointment, you're still more than understanding and supportive. Knowing that recovery is a long, slow process.

W/C: 1,914

C/W: Heavy mentions of addiction, depictions of blood, angst, positive affirmations, comfort and support, no mentions of established relationship but the love and care is very prominent.

A/N: This is just a little blurb I wrote up in between projects. As silly as it sounds I really love hurt to comfort stories every now and again. And I just wanna take Sam and wrap him up in a blanket and take all his pain away because he's just so babygirl pookie bear. I hope you enjoy💕

“Well, you lied

You said you were fine

But now you're terrified

'Cause you don't wanna die

Then you start to cry

You wish that you could take it all back.”

You looked at the clock that hung on the wall of the dark, silent bunker when you heard the heavy iron door creak open after a few hours of pacing back and forth.

1:47am.

They were out later than they said they'd be. But that wasn't uncommon for them either. You knew it really all depended on how the hunt played out. But judging by how late they had gotten back, and how quiet the two of them were, it seems it didn't go well at all.

Dean came in first, carrying a tension with him as his gaze met yours. But when you thought you'd be met with one of his cocky smirks and a flirty ‘You miss us Sweetheart?’.

You were met with something else entirely.

His green eyes hardened, a set scowl on his face as he pulled his jacket off, throwing it harshly on one of the chairs. A disgruntled huff broke past his lips, his hands running through his sweat coated hair.

It must've been really, really bad.

You watched Dean walk over to the fridge, grabbing a beer before slamming it shut and walking past you. Your expression was one of concern as you spoke.

“What the hell happened?”

He shot you a bitter side glance as he walked past you.

Then past Sam.

“Ask him.”

He muttered coldly before walking back upstairs. Leaving you and Sam alone in the bunker.

You hadn't even looked at Sam when he came in, but now that you were. Your heart dropped into your stomach at the sight of him.

His clothes were soaked in blood. His olive green coat and washed out blue button up ruined in the crimson red. His neck speckled in red streaks that dried up a while ago.

His hands coated like he dipped them in paint.

But what hurt to see the most was his face. How it was all smeared across his lips, chin and jaw. A testament to how he tried to wipe it away like a dirty sin.

His eyes refused to meet yours, swimming with guilt and despair. Tears threatened to spill past his long lashes as he shifted uncomfortably in front of you.

Like he was ashamed to be in your presence.

You knew it wasn't his.

Your heart cracked in your chest.

Your face fell into a solemn, disappointed expression as you closed the space between you two. Your hand finding its way to his cheek. Coaxing him to look at you.

“Sam, what happened?”

You asked in a gentle exhale.

He still couldn't bring himself to look at you. Instead he closed his eyes as he stuttered out.

“I-I don't know. I didn't mean for it to happen. It's just- I just wasn't strong enough. I couldn't control myself.”

He choked out that last part, his tears brimming his hazel eyes like glass as he finally looked at you.

You knew he was expecting you to berate him. To tell him he was weak, that he'd have to start all over again and go through the agonizing withdrawals.

To remind him of his faults.

But you never did. No matter how many times he messed up, no matter how many times he fell. You were always there to help pick him back up, to tell him it was ok. That you didn't think any less of him because he made mistakes.

That you were there for him.

This time would be no different as you gave him a reassuring smile through your disappointed expression, taking his hand and leading him to the bunker bathroom.

You guided him to sink, gesturing for him to perch himself on the beige white porcelain edge.

The stale, low lighting in the bunker bathroom made the situation feel more heavy than it already was. The sounds of you two shuffling in the small space seemed to echo in your ears. But there was no point in acknowledging the tension now.

Knowing Sam could feel it too.

You crouched down to the little cabinet underneath the sink, pulling out a crisp, clean cloth. Setting it aside as you turned on the faucet and brought his hands to the warm running water. Washing away the blood that coated his long fingers and calloused palms. Watching how the red streamed against the white of the sink, making your stomach twist ever so slightly as it flowed down the drain.

You ran your thumbs over his knuckles with care as the blood was washed away. Looking at the size difference between you two. Finding it a bit ironic at how a man with such strong hands was letting such soft, gentle fingers take control.

But you could tell in moments like these, Sam wouldn't want it any other way. Because he knew no one else would treat him with the same tenderness.

Once the blood from his hands were gone, you ran the cloth under steady steam, making sure it was warm enough to bring him some sort of comfort in the cold silence between you.

As you raised the cloth to his face, he flinched.

Your heart lurched in your chest as you whispered,

“Hey, it's ok.. It's ok.”

You said as you placed your free hand over his. Holding eye contact with him as you placed the warm, damp cloth on his cheek. Gently wiping away the blood off his face.

“Did they hurt you at all?”

You asked as you scanned over his face, looking to see if had any nicks or cuts.

He shook his head, looking at you with his big, dewy eyes as you wiped away the blood from his lips.

“I'm fine.”

His voice was barely audible.

But his eyes told a different story.

Those big puppy dog eyes.

He was lying.

“I'm not mad at you Sam. You know that right?”

His jaw tensed.

“You should be furious.”

He said as he gently grasped your wrist, stopping you from continuing to wipe away the blood.

Like he didn't deserve it.

You softened your expression, letting the hand that rested on top of his slip between his fingers.

“It's not your fault Sam.”

His brows furrowed in frustration as he gripped your wrist a little more tightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make you notice.

“Don't give me that. It is my fault, because I made a choice to either leave it alone or give in. And I wasn't strong enough to resist. Now I'm back where I started. Because I was weak.”

You let out a slightly defeated sigh as you tugged away from his grasp. You could see the guilt and shame in his eyes as you pulled away. But there was something else hiding underneath.

He was terrified.

Terrified of the hold the blood had on him.

Terrified of the idea of losing everything he loved.

Terrified of dying.

You gave him an adamant look as to tell him to let you continue what you started.

And he knew better than to push you when you gave him that look.

As you finished cleaning his face, you carefully moved down to his neck.

“You're being too hard on yourself. You say it's your fault, but you didn't know how addictive the blood would be. You didn't know about the consequences that would come with it. You thought you were doing the right thing.”

He looked away as you spoke so kindly and yet so firmly at the same time. Like the way a mother would. It was enough to make his heart tear in two, because he loved and hated when you were like this.

He loved it because you were coming from a place of genuine concern and love. And he hated it because he felt like he didn't deserve your love and care. He thought you should've been harder on him like everyone else was.

You should've treated him like the black sheep he was.

But you were never going to.

Because he knew you saw the good in everyone, including him.

You squeezed the cloth of the blood that stained it. Running it under the water once again to heat it back up before running the damp material over his adams apple and down to his collarbone.

“You should be holding me accountable like Dean and Bobby do.”

Your expression hardened, a beat of silence passed before you spoke bitterly.

“Stop. They aren't holding you accountable, they're being insensitive. They don't know how to approach situations like yours. Addiction is a battle, Sam. No one has ever gone through it unscathed, and it will be something you will have to fight through until the day you die.”

You said as you finished cleaning up. Looking at the bloodied cloth with a softer expression.

“There are times when you need to be held accountable with some tough love, but that doesn't go without being shown empathy either. There are going to be days when you stumble and fall, and that's ok. No one said it was ever going to be easy to try and quit fully all at once. But as long as you're making steps in the right direction to get better. To live without it. I think that's worth showing a little bit of empathy towards.”

You said as you set the cloth down in the bowl of the sink before you settled yourself between his legs as he stayed in his spot on the sink.

Your hands pushing some of the umber brown locks out of his tearful eyes.

“You're making that effort Sam. I see it. And I know it's hard to keep making that effort when you're constantly reminded of how addicted you were. Of how lost you were. It'll take time to get better, doesn't happen overnight. All I ask is that you keep fighting this. Keep trying. And know that I'll be by your side as long as you keep fighting.”

Sam's tears fell freely when he saw the conviction in your eyes, how you really meant every word you said. That you were here for him.

For the long term.

He leaned forward, pulling you into a tight, affectionate embrace. His arms caging you against his chest as he buried his face into your shoulder. Sniffling as he let out a shaky whisper.

“Thank you.”

He knew it wasn't much. But he wasn't sure he could explain the amount of gratitude he held for you in that moment into words.

And he wasn't going to.

He knew the only way he could express it was through his actions. To continue to make the effort to get better.

To be better.

As much as he wished he could take it all back, he knew he couldn't. No matter how much he wished he could go back and stop himself, it would never be possible.

But what was possible was recovery.

To fight with everything he had to get past his addiction for the blood. No matter how much he may crave the power it gives him or the rush he feels. He knew as long as you were there to help him along the way, he'd have the strength to push through it all.

Because he thought you were worth getting better for.

[myceliumsunshine]

Hear me out, Sam Winchester x reader based on the song Wagon Wheel(apologies I’m having a country phase)

Either Sam or Reader desperately trying to get back to the other because they miss each other sm. could take a turn or it could be fluff

Wagon Wheel - Sam Winchester

A/N - hi @sweetiecelin my lovely moot sorry this took me so long i was camping but i have the writing bug again and i'm also in a country phase (it's not a phase!!) so take this *thrusts fic at you* simp sam winchester. like, he will die without her kind of simping. very codependant relationship. dean is very unhappy to be there. southern reader. word count - 917

The bunker is quiet with the sound of your absence. The sound of the electric kettle you’d bought to make tea in the mornings, the sound of your laughter after a particularly bad joke from Sam or Dean in the afternoon, the sound of your soft snores as you snuggle into Sam’s arms in the night, the absence of them all creates an awfully loud silence that seems to threaten to smother the Winchester boys.

You’d been gone a week. Sam barely remembers why you’d left. Something about an old friend needing help, and you’d rushed away before he could offer to go with you in the old yellow Mustang you insisted you kept, despite the fact that you rode in the pitch black Impala with him and Dean pretty much every time you left the place the three of you all called home.

Sam misses you. It isn’t actually that revolutionary of an idea. Sam misses you when you leave the room he’s in, Sam misses you when you take your hand from his when playing FBI on cases, he misses you when you’re asleep and he misses you when you’re awake. Sam could miss you professionally, in the Olympics, score gold and set a new world record for missing you. Sam misses you a lot. But this is different. The ache in his bones is from missing you. You’ve been gone a whole week. He’s starting to feel like a dog left at home while its owners go on vacation, the way he’s staring longingly at the door all times of the day, his tail between his legs and a low whine in the back of his throat. Metaphorically, of course. He isn’t actually whining at any point (Yes he is. But he’s made Dean swear never to bring it up again, never to tell you, and he’s been more careful to make sure his brother wasn’t around ever since. Not that Sam would admit he’s been whining.)

You’re gone and it’s changed the way Sam goes to sleep. He no longer sleeps his full 8 hours, not without your waist to sling a heavy arm over. A pillow just doesn’t cut it, even if he puts an unwashed shirt of yours that still smells like you over it as a pillow case. You’re gone and it’s changed the way Sam wakes up. He no longer wakes to the feeling of kisses to his eyelids, to his nose, to his cheeks, to his ears, to his lips. The smell of the coffee that you’d somehow managed to slip out from under him to make doesn’t fill his senses either. Sam spends his waking hours moping around the bunker.

Dean’s sick of it. Everytime you call he’s complaining about Sam, and though it makes you stifle a giggle that your 6’5” boyfriend has been keening like a sad puppy dog, you have to admit you miss him too. You’re just as pathetic and needy and whiny (Yes, you can admit it. Yes, it makes you think you’re both more mature and more well-adjusted than Sam.) as your boyfriend back home. You call Sam at least once a day, usually two, three, or even four times a day. Yeah, you miss him.

Which is why, when you walk through the bunker doors, you drop your duffle and you’re running through the bunker to your shared room, hat flying off your head as you’re jumping into his waiting arms. The bouquet of flowers that you’d picked back in Tennessee clutched tightly in your hand squished up against Sam’s back, mostly wilting from the lack of water on your 14 hour drive.

“Hi.” You whisper into his shoulder. He’s lifting you off of the floor, and then your legs are wrapped around his waist, hoping to push your very being into him, hugging each other as tight as humanly possible. If you could crawl into his skin and never leave him again, you would, and so would he.

“I missed you.” He mumbles into your hair. You laugh, because you know that he missed you, he hadn’t stopped telling you over the phone, and also because you’d missed him. Missed the way he smelled, like salt and iron, lighter fuel and smoke, something sweet and something distinctly Sam. Missed the way his hugs seem to cover every inch of your skin. Missed the way he’s kissing you now, like you’re something delicate, like you’re something to be worshiped, something to be adored, like you’re the air in his lungs, like if he doesn’t kiss you now, he’ll never get the chance again.

“I missed you too.” Sam missed the way your southern accent seemed to get deeper every time you went to the south. The twang of your thickened South Carolina accent is something he can never get enough of, because it only lasts for the week after you leave the southern states.

“I missed you more.” You hand him the twisted, wilted, squished dogwood flowers, smirking.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” He’s smiling at the back and forth now.

“I don’t know, I think it might-”

“God, shut up.” You both turn to Dean at the door, and then you’re laughing again and the breath is gone from Sam’s lungs. And then your forehead is pressed against his, and Sam might have a stroke. And then you’re kissing him, and Sam has died and gone to heaven. You pull back, looking at him.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

taglist - @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

[supernotnatural2005]

The Great Sam Winchester C*ck Block!

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean and you have been desperate for some much needed alone time. However, a certain Winchester keeps getting in the way.

Word Count: 4106

Warnings: Smut! 18+ ONLY!!! Fluff, Sam is a massive c*ck block (yes that’s a warning!)

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since i posted anything. Life has been wild. But i miss writing so much and have a few WIP. This just happens to be the one i’ve finished! 😅 Just something fun and spicy. I hope you enjoy and feedback is always welcome!

My Masterlist

You sighed, head thrown back against the leather seat, back arched and legs spread wide as Dean scissored two of his thick fingers inside of you.

Soft lips caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and suckled at the spot behind your ear, which only added to the desperate throb of the walls of your pussy.

Your skin flushed and breathing laboured as he expertly rubbed at that spongey spot inside you, making you gasp and tense at the thrum of pleasure, tingling from the tops of your ears down to the tips of your toes.

The soft praises of; “you’re so wet”, “so beautiful” and “come for me baby”, followed by the lewd sounds of your dripping core against the harsh thrust of his digits, echoed in the small confinements of Baby’s backseat. Resulting in an ecstasy like state of desperation to reach your peak for him.

Your hands found purchase on his broad shoulders, the material covering his skin all but assaulted by your vice-like grip, as he brought you closer and closer to your impending crash.

You opened your eyes, gaze heated and glazed as you met fiery green orbs, drinking in your wrecked state with satisfaction and pride.

With his thumb now rubbing against your clit, you could feel your body begin to tense. The coil in your lower belly wound tight, ready to just about snap, when something over his shoulder caught your attention.

“Sam!” You gasped in an attempt to warn him. Though in your current state, it came out as more of a gasp of unmeant pleasure. But it had Dean’s fingers stilling instantly, drowning the flame he’d brought to life inside of you.

“What?” The shock was evident in his voice and the same eyes that had been filled with lust just moments ago, now laced with hurt at your outburst of his brother’s name. Made ten times worse at the fact it was whilst he was fingering you into oblivion.

Dread filled you at his harshly retracted fingers and you scrambled to explain before another fire brewed in his eyes, but this time with intent to burn rather than pleasure.

“Oh God, no baby! Sam is coming.” You guided his head in the direction of the other end on the motel’s parking lot, to where Sam was indeed approaching.

Relief flooded him like a cold drink of water quenching one’s thirst in a hot desert. His rapidly beating heart simmered somewhat at the realisation and he welcomed the soothing hand you ran through his short strands as he dropped his forehead to your shoulder.

You felt the rumble of his chuckle before you heard it, finding yourself joining in at the absurdity and worst timing ever of your boyfriend’s baby-bro.

“I guess we’re gonna have to pick this up another time.” He sighed disappointedly, but his eyes held a promise you clung to.

Sam Winchester was many things. A great hunter, empathetic and kind, your best friend. But mostly, he was the most oblivious cock block known to man.

For weeks you and Dean had been trying to have a little alone time. If it wasn’t the motel’s having only one twin room left, or a case taking its tole on you both to the point of pure exhaution, it was Sam’s impeccable timing.

You righted yourself by pulling on your discarded underwear and sleep-shorts, grimacing as the fabric met the mess between your legs.

Dean casually sucked his fingers clean of your juices, making your jaw drop and clit pulse in want.

Noticing your longing stare, he winked and slid a hand beneath his sweat pants to adjust the obvious tent, just in time for Sam to tap on the window.

“What are you guys doing out here? I tried calling you both for the past half hour.” Dean had opened the back seat and stepped out, allowing you to shuffle to the edge of the seat.

“I had a nightmare.” You lied easily as you stepped out of the car as well.

“I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to wake you, so Dean offered to sit with me, calm me down.”

If oscars were awarded for best lie told, you’re sure you’d be up there in the nominees. It wasn’t necessary to lie to Sam but it beat, “your brother was just fingering me in the back of his car because we never have any time alone away from you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Sam was sincere and his look sympathetic. It allowed for a shred of guilt to be had.

“Why were you looking for us anyway?” Dean interrupted, voice slightly rough and irritated, although Sam didn’t seem to notice.

“I found a case a couple of miles out. Three victims have turned up dead in the last week, all with their hearts missing. Sherif is calling it a vicious animal attack but, i figures we got ourselves a werewolf.”

Silence.

“And that couldn’t wait until morning.” Dean speaks up first. His agitation clear this time.

“Well, technically it is morning. It’s like five A M.” Sam shrugs like it’s nothing and you internally sigh.

“You’re right, we just lost track of time.” You force a smile and ignore Dean’s pointed look as a sudden plan forms in your mind.

“Let us freshen up and maybe you could grab us some coffee and breakfast? You know, since you’re the only one dressed and all.” You ask sweetly, hoping he takes the bait.

“Yeah sure. I was going to grab us all some breakfast anyway.” Sam offers.

Bingo.

“That’d be great, i’m starving.” You exaggerate with a hand on your stomach. In the corner of your eye, Dean gives you a funny look and it takes everything in you not to smirk.

“Okay, well i’ll see you in ten.” Sam says before making his way across the street toward the 24 hour diner.

Wasting no time, you grab Dean’s hand and roughly pull him with you toward the room.

“Woah, what in the-“ You shut him up with your lips roughly pressing to his once you enter the room. His back hitting the closed door with a dull thud.

“If you think i’m going to wait for God knows how long before i feel you inside me again. You’ve got another thing coming.” You explain in a rush as you tug his plain-black t-shirt over his head.

A smirk forms on his lips at your eagerness and Dean has to admit, it turns him on just how desperate you are.

“Oh, i like the way you think sweetheart.”

You sat in the backseat of baby, irritable, uncomfortable and beyond sexually frustrated.

Your attempt to finish what you and Dean had started back in the room was short lived, when Sam returned only 2 minutes later, having forgotten his wallet.

To say you were in a mood was an understatement. And the permanent scowl on Dean’s face and his white knuckling grip on the steering wheel, told you he was right there with you.

In the end, the three of you figured out who the culprit was, or should you say culprits were, relatively quickly. It was a young man, Johnny Turner who was recently turned, which explained the sloppy kills. And you later discovered the pack who’d turned him, hiding out in a cabin just outside of town.

Overall, it was a successful hunt with minimum injuries and you had prevented a young girl from being the fourth victim. But three people had still died and a young man had to spend his last moments of life as a monster he never wanted to be.

You still remember the fear and confusion in his eyes at what he’d done. But then he’d went to attack you and ended up with three silver bullets from Dean’s gun lodged in his chest.

So, when you climbed into bed that night, Dean following shortly after you as Sam lightly snored away on the bed opposite. There were no wandering hands under the covers, working each other up until you were desperate enough to find yourself back in the back seat of baby. Just silence.

All in all, Sam’s case had inadvertently been another giant cock-block in itself.

3 Days Later.

It wasn’t your most classiest moment, but you found yourself knelt on a grubby restroom floor; Dean above you with his jeans and boxers pushed down mid thigh as you took his heavy, achingly hard length into your mouth.

You could be ashamed at how horny you were. That you’d stoop so low as to pushing him into a disgusting bathroom stall; dropping to your knees and blowing him right then and there.

But after a whole day of watching him work on Baby, greased up, sweaty and watching his biceps flex as he adjusted loose bolts and nuts under the hood. It was like dangling a piece of meat in-front of a starving dog. You just had to take a bite.

After being unfairly teased all day, you had all ventured to the local dive in town. Of course, Sam came along, actually wanting to join in for once.

Despite your own sexual frustrations, you’d had a good time. Drunk Sam was a lot of fun and it was nice seeing everyone relaxed and with a smile on their face for once.

However, once Sam’s attention was preoccupied by a pretty brunette; and with a strong bout of liquid courage in your system, you’d taken advantage of the situation and summoned Dean to join you in the restroom.

You knew he was just as worked up as you were. You’d felt as much whilst playing a game pool earlier on in the night, when he’d pressed up against you, not so subtly and let you feel just how much the skirt you’d opted to wear turned him on.

So now here you were, sucking off your boyfriend in the restroom stall of a dive bar, like some horny teenager. But if his moans and grunts as he lightly thrusted his hips intime with the bobbing of your head, told you anything. It was that he was more than on board.

Your panties were beyond soaked and uncomfortable but, Dean’s laboured breath’s and flushed cheeks as you looked up at him; his balls drawing up tight in your palm as you let him fuck into your mouth, a tell tail sign he was close, had you doubling your efforts to get him there.

“Holy shit baby. Right there.” He panted as you breathed deeply through your nose and took him as deep as your gag reflex would allow. The hand holding your hair back tightened, bringing with it a sharp sting of pleasure, making you moan around him.

He was seconds away from his release, when a loud bang interrupted you. It was as if an ice-cold bucket of water had been poured over your heads.

Startled, Dean’s slick cock slipped from your lips as you jumped back in shock. The loud bang was shortly followed by a girly giggle and a mans chuckle.

You looked up at Dean, wide eyed and silently asking if he wanted you to continue, when you heard it.

The stall next you rattled as the couple stumbled inside, the sounds of lips lewdly smacking together and then a voice you’d recognise anywhere, instantly cleared your sex hazed fog and had you as dry as a desert.

It was Sam.

You’ve got to be kidding me, Dean’s look told you.

One week later found the three of you pulling into Bobby’s for some much needed R&R.

After a week of non stop hunts, your bruised and beaten body needed at least a long weekend to recover. And the boys were more than inclined to agree.

As soon as your feet hit the gravel outside of Bobby’s house, you sighed in relief. The drive was long and your back, legs and butt ached from the lengthy position held.

“S’good to see you idgits.” Came the gruff greeting from Bobby as he stepped out the front door. You smiled at the term that had always been more out of endearment rather than as an insult.

You were the first to make your way over and fall into his embrace. Bobby always did give the best hugs. You’d missed him, a lot you realised as he gave you a big squeeze.

Although, your wince had him pulling back immediately to assess you with concern.

“Im all good, it’s just been a long week.” You explained truthfully and though he let it go, you could see he wasn’t fully satisfied with your answer.

“Mind if i grab a shower? I need to get the stink of hours being hot-boxed with the most gassiest man alive off of me.” You jab your finger blindly in Sam’s direction and miss his offended look.

Dean however, barks out a laugh to which Sam throws him his signature bitch-face.

“Hey, she’s not wrong man. S’probably all that rabbit food you eat.” Dean shrugs innocently, but is unable to contain his amusement.

“I’m not going to apologise for eating healthy Dean. Wouldn’t kill you to eat a salad once in a while mister, two double cheese burgers with extra bacon for breakfast.” Sam sasses back, mocking Dean’s gravelly voice. And in doing so, starts the endless bickering between the two brothers.

You decide then to make your escape, passing Bobby with a thankful hand on his shoulder and an apologetic look in your eyes as you make your way inside and upstairs toward the bathroom.

You drop your duffle to the floor and rummage through for some clean clothes. Luckily, you find a faded band t-shirt that you’re pretty sure once belonged to Dean and some leggings. It’ll have to do until you can take advantage of Bobby’s washer and dryer.

You’ll have to cook dinner as a thank you, you decide before peeling off your two day old clothes; grimacing slightly at the pain in your overused muscles and possibly bruised ribs.

You turn on the shower, making sure it’s on the verge of scolding, allowing for a billow of steam to encompass the medium sized bathroom, before stepping into the tub.

At first you flinch at warm spray in contrast to your much cooler skin, but quickly melt under the pressure and warmth seeping deep into your bones.

As you stand motionless, the weight of the last few weeks, possibly months, of being tense, unsatisfied and in pain, gradually releases it’s vice-like grip on you and washes away with the muck and grime accumulated on your skin.

Bliss. Thats what this was. Pure unadulterated bliss.

You’re so enraptured with the feeling, you don’t even notice him enter the room. Nor do you hear the shuffling of clothes being removed, or the curtain pulling back for him to step inside behind you.

It’s not until the coolness of his palms makes contact with your hips, do you startle and turn to meet the vibrant green eyes of your intruder.

“You don’t mind if i join you, do you?” Dean asks. As if you had a choice on the matter, as if you’d ever refuse.

You shake your head in both amusement and in answer to his question, and turn back around as he begins to lather his palms up with the body wash you’d brought with you.

A welcoming fruity smell of strawberries invades your sinuses and you soon hum in pleasure as his large, soapy hands glide across your skin. The act is incredibly intimate without the need to initiate into anything more than Dean simply taking care of you.

However, as his slick hands wander to your front, gliding across your stomach and up to lather your breasts. A fire that had been put out one too many times, reignites within you.

You bite your lip and lay your head back against his shoulder as his hands travel back south. Your breathing grows heavier as his seemingly innocent actions spark you to life.

The feel of his smile against the side of your head, tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing though. So as a form of punishment, you subtly press back against him, smiling devilishly at the feel of his hardening length against your lower back.

His breathing shallows as you slowly gyrate your hips back against him and your pussy throbs in need of something, anything.

The famous saying, ‘great minds think alike’ had never proven more true as Dean’s right hand continues its journey, until two of his thick digits part your wet folds.

You gasp as his middle finger begins to slowly circle your clit, causing an electric jolt of pleasure to course through your entire body.

“You’re so wet already baby.” Dean husks in your ear, just as he briefly dips a finger into your dripping hole before returning the coated digit to your clit.

Adding his forefinger, Dean begins to quicken the pace of his fingers and adds pressure onto the pulsing bundle of nerves, making you cry out and twitch and convulse in his embrace.

He holds you tightly to him by wrapping his other arm around your waist, as you shake and your stance falters, gripping onto the arm wrapped around you like a life line.

“Come for me baby.” You hear him all but growl, before you feel his soft lips begin to nip and suck at the sensitive junction between your neck and shoulder. His fingers are vigorous now and the coil wound tight within in you finally snaps.

Everything goes white; your veins like molten lava, fiery hot and melting your bones as the tremors of your well- overdue orgasm course through you.

“Fuuuck.” You can’t help but moan as your tense body slowly becomes like jelly against the strength of your boyfriend. Dean holds you upright as you slowly come to and only loosens his hold when he knows you’re able to stand on your own.

For a moment you feel like you had died and gone to heaven. Utterly relaxed and boneless, you smile dopily until the numbness fades and the overwhelming need to feel him inside you takes over.

You twist in his embrace and pull his face down to crash your lips to his. It’s messy, all tongue and clashing teeth, both blinded by pure desire and pent up frustrations.

You slide a hand between your bodies and glide your hand up and down his length. He’s hard as a rock and seeping at the tip, which you gather in your palm as you continue to jerk him off.

“Shit.” He pulls away with a hiss, eyes closed tight as he presses his forehead to yours. You bite your lip as you take him in, forever impressed of the beauty that is Dean Winchester.

His hand moves to stop you suddenly and he meets your questioning look with pupils blown wide.

“I’m not gonna last if you keep it up. Need to be inside you now.” He all but growls before sliding his hands under your thighs and lifting you effortlessly into his arms.

You wrap your legs securely around his waist as he pushes you against the tile. The coolness brings out a gasp that’s soon swallowed by Dean’s all consuming, toe curling kiss.

“Please.” You beg as you pull away for a needed breath. Too worked up to vocalise anything else. Dean understands you though and shifts you higher up the wall, using it as leverage as he frees an arm to guide himself into you.

Your eyes cross as he slowly descends you onto his cock. The stretch is both overwhelming and not enough at the same time as he bottoms out. It’s a feeling you’ve missed gravely and he hasn’t even moved yet.

“Holy fuck.” Dean groans deep in his throat at the feel of your tight, warm walls finally wrapped around him. A feeling he’s been starved of for too damn long.

“You feel so good baby.” You praise and cup his cheek to guide his lips back to yours. He slowly slides his way out of you until just his tip remains, before thrusting back in with a sharp snap of his hips.

The action makes you cry out breathlessly, eyes wide in the most painful pleasure. You keep your eyes locked when he does it again, mouth agape in a silent scream with each drag of his length against your sensitive walls.

He builds up a confident rhythm, hitting you in the sweet spot every time, making your toes curl and breathing labour.

“Fuck i’ve missed the feel of you.” You moan particularly loudly when he hits the right spot.

“You’re so tight and wet. Fuck.” Dean groans as he picks up the pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin, almost overshadowing the patter of the showers spray.

You’re close, you can feel it. Feel it in the way your lower belly clenches and limbs tense as your nerve endings spark with each thrust.

Dean’s close too. His panting breaths making way for the odd growl to slip out as he strains with effort to keep you both up. His own limbs starting to flutter in strength at his impending release.

Just as you’re about to loose it, there’s knock on the door, causing Dean to still and you to bite your lip in attempt to stop a frustrated groan.

“Hey Y/N? Have you seen Dean? I need the keys to the impala.” Sam’s muffled voice carried through the door.

Dean looks livid, but you look at him questioning eyes. ‘What do i say?’

It takes a moment, but Deans irritation fades and a sly smirk replaces it.

“I’m in here Sammy!” Dean calls out and your eyes widen in shock. However, you’re unable to say a thing when he shifts his hips, slowly dragging his cock almost all the way out, before pushing just as slowly back in.

Your mouth drops open and eyes flutter as he repeats the action.

“Wait why are you…” Sam trails off and you almost don’t hear his “oh.” Of realisation.

“Might not wanna traumatise yourself Sammy.” Dean calls out, just before he snaps his hips harshly into you again, and you can’t help but cry out. Your cheeks blush at the fact Sam could hear you.

“Dean!” You scold in a hushed whisper, but he doesn’t stop, making you bite your lip to stop from crying out more. Thankfully you hear Sam’s footsteps quickly retreat.

“I’m done with interruptions.” Dean all but growls before crashing his lips to yours. His hips begin to piston into you at an almost bruising, quickly bringing you both back to the brink. Your cries of pleasure muffle against his lips and your hands tangle in his hair harshly, making him moan.

“Fuck i’m going to cum.” You gasp, head thrown back and back arching as much as was possible in the position you were in.

“Let go baby. I’m right there with you.” Dean pants and you meet his eyes in a silent cry as you tense up. Your orgasm rippling through you like a bolt of electricity.

“Fuuuuck.” Dean quickly follows you with a couple more thrusts. His body tensing as he grunts into your neck, each twitch of his cock as he empties his seed deep inside you, sending little aftershocks through your body.

You’re both breathing hard, even when he pulls back to look at you. Dopy smiles rise on your lips simultaneously, and laughter soon follows. Dean slowly puts you down on shaky legs, but keeps you close as he leans down to claim your lips once more.

It’s slow and passionate and striking you back to life as we speak. The smirk on Dean’s lips is all knowing and you want to smack away his smugness, but you can’t find it in you to make on that promise when his wandering hand cups your aching sex.

“Someone’s a needy girl, ain’t they.” He mumbles between kissing his way down your neck as his thick digits stroke you to life.

You gasp at the sensation, torn between too sensitive and desperate to feel more.

You glide your hand up his broad shoulder and through his damp hair before gripping tight enough to make him hiss. His eyes darken lustfully and you smirk a little at the feel of him twitching against you.

“You have no fucking idea.” You whisper, before pulling his lips to yours.

It’s safe to say Bobby’s water bill paid a price that day.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hi!!

Can you do a Sam Winchester begging plus size reader to sit on his face. Whatever vibes you want :) Dommy Sam is always a fav but as long as Sam is reassuring and eating reader out, I’m happy :)

Thank you!!

.⋆｡Peaches and Cream｡⋆.

Sam Winchester x plus size reader

Dean made the mistake of leaving you alone with a very soulless version of your best friend who only wants one thing from you

Warnings: soulless!Sam, smut, friends to lovers?, oral (f receiving), mentions of condoms, praise, body worshipping, overstimulation, dom!Sam, almost getting caught, little bit of self-consciousness WC: 1.8k

Minors DNI

a/n: thank you all for being so patient with me, i promise i only have a couple weeks left of uni and i'm gonna come running back with some new fics!

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

His eyes burned into the back of your skull, as they had been for the past 10 minutes. And yet, you refused to look up from the book in front of you, even though you had not turned a page in that same amount of time.  You weren’t a stranger to Sam’s gaze, in fact you used to love it; the way his big puppy dog eyes trailed up your curves whenever he thought you wouldn’t notice never failed to have heat bloom across your cheeks.

But his staring was far different now.

Sam was different now.

You could hear him shift in his seat before the tell-tale sound of his boots against the cheap vinyl as he got closer. You swallowed around the lump in your throat though it did nothing to sooth the fear simmering inside you. 

“You’re not reading.” His warm breath tickled your neck. You shivered and squeezed your eyes shut. You knew what he wanted, and so badly did you wish to give it to him, like you always had but it was so wrong. His soul was gone, the very thing that made Sam Sam but it was still his body, his voice so tantalisingly close.

“Yes I am.” You bit back a whimper as Sam leaned in closer, his large hands planting themselves on the table in front of you, keeping you pinned to the spot. The tip of his nose brushed gently along your ear.

“No.” Suddenly the book was ripped from your hands and thrown across the motel room (something your Sam would never do). “You’re not.”

His lips closed around your earlobe. “Sam.” You cursed Dean in your mind, that man and his need for diner pie no matter how far out of his way he had to go to get it. “We can’t.” Fire pooled between your plump thighs, quickly soaking through your panties. 

He shifted closer, his strong arms now tightly pressed against you. He released your ear with a soft pop. “Can’t or won’t? Because I think we both know just how badly you want me, sweetheart.” You held your breath as Sam’s hands slowly moved from the table to your wide hips.

“Sam.” You tried again but this time he answered you with a deep growl.

“Say my name like that again and I promise that you won’t be walking straight for a week.” A moan escaped your lips before you could even think of stopping it. You could feel Sam’s plump lips curl into a devious smirk. 

“But-“ His grip tightened and all the doubts in your mind vanished.

“But nothing. Dean won’t be back for hours and you need to unwind and I happen to know the perfect way to do that.” 

As a last ditch attempt before your mind completely went fuzzy, you blurted out- “We don’t have condoms.”

His chuckle rumbled through your bones, sending a chill of excitement up your spine. “I’m not gonna fuck you, not today at least. I just want a little taste of this nice,” His right hand slid down the pudge of your stomach and wedged itself between your thighs, cupping you over the thick denim of your jeans, “juicy,” He nuzzled his face against your neck, “cunt.” 

“Be gentle?” You turned your head, encouraging the larger man to meet your gaze. His eyes shone with his victory.

“You want your Sammy don’t you?” He teased. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll give you exactly what you want.” And then he struck. 

His lips moulded perfectly against yours in a kiss long overdue. It was soft, almost sweet but you could feel the way he was holding back, forcing himself to relent to your wishes, even as he cupped your jaw with his other hand, deepening it. 

You whimpered against his lips and he reluctantly pulled away. You barely had a moment to catch your breath before Sam yanked you from your chair and lifted you into his arms. “Sam!” You tried to protest, but he silenced you with a kiss more determined than before. 

His tongue forced its way into your mouth as he strode to his unused bed. Your arms wound around his neck, Sam growling in approval. His knees bumped against the mattress and he fell forwards, catching himself with his right hand before he could crush you. Your pussy squeezed around nothing at the raw strength of the hunter you’d been pining for. 

You grabbed at the front of his flannel as he tugged on the hem of your jeans. Your teeth clacked together and the sound of ripping fabric filled the room. “Eager girl.” Sam groaned against your lips as you still held onto the now destroyed shirt in your grip. 

Your jeans button popped open. “Please Sam.” His long fingers grazed the wet spot on your panties and your hips bucked up, encouraging his touch to go just a little further down. He chuckled cruelly but yet he obeyed. The calloused tips of his fingers pressed into your throbbing clit, making your jaw drop with a silent moan.

He nipped at the frantic pulse along your throat, unbothered by the deep welts he was leaving behind. Your heart skipped a beat as you laid your palms onto his naked chest. “Sam.” His name was barely even a breath. 

“Good girl.” Your ruined panties were pushed to the side as his middle finger traced up your slit, gathering as much of your wetness as he could. “So wet for me. You’ve been waiting so long haven’t you.” He cooed.

You tried to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge, content in teasing you. “Shhh let me play a little longer and then I’ll give you what you want.” His slender hips rolled against your thigh, letting you feel the monstrous bulge of his cock where it was straining against his own jeans.

You squirmed as he finally pressed his thick fingers to your clit, just barely dousing the fire between your legs. “Please.” Your eyes burned with tears of desperation. You needed him like it was the only thing keeping you alive.

Sam tsked and in response, pulled his fingers away. You nearly cried as your relief was ripped away from you. “Now, while I do love your begging, we’re doing this my way. You need to learn.” 

He leaned back onto his heels, his ripped shirt perfectly framing his toned stomach and chest. You couldn’t look away from him, never could you have even dreamed that your best friend was this good-looking. “Jeans. Off.” 

Your hands flew down to your hips, eager to obey. Sam smirked and pulled off the tattered flannel, his eyes remained on you though, burning with lust. Your hands shook as you finally got your pants off. Your panties quickly followed after.

“What a good little slut, listening so prettily. You just want your Sammy to take care of you don’t you.” You nodded desperately.

“Please, wanna be good.” 

He grabbed your wide hips and rolled onto his back, dragging you up the length of his torso until you were straddling his wide shoulders. “Then be good for me and sit on my face.”

“But-“ He shot you a lot from between your legs and dragged you up further so you had no choice but to plant your knees on the mattress next to his head. You caught yourself on the wall behind the headboard as you tried to rock forwards and pull yourself up. 

“Do this for me, sweetheart. Lemme drown in that pussy.” His teeth sunk into the soft fat of your inner thigh. 

“But Sam, I-I don’t want to hurt you. ‘M not exactly small.” 

“Sit. I won’t repeat myself again.” Your knees wobbled but you remained upright, determined to not harm the man beneath you. “Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

His arms wound around your legs and forced you down onto his mouth. “Perfect.” He grumbled into your cunt.

“Sam!” But before you had the chance to even think of prying yourself from him, Sam’s lips sealed around your clit and it took every ounce of self-restraint you had not to court around his head and keep him right there, suckling at you, forever.

Your moans echoed through the cheap motel room, bouncing off the peeling wallpaper and soaking into the old carpeting. You couldn’t help but grind down onto his face, chasing the pleasure he had already denied you once before. Sam groaned in approval from between your legs. His tongue lapped at you, moving with a precision that had you asking yourself why you hadn't relented sooner.

“Are-are you spelling something?” He just winked at you and ducked his head down once more. Your eyebrows scrunched as you tried to concentrate on the fluid movement of his tongue against you though the blinding pleasure made it difficult.

S-A-M-U-E-L He took a breath. W-I-N-C-H-E-S-T-E-R

He was branding you, and that thought sent you catapulting to the precipice of your end. “Sam, Sam please. ‘M so close, please, please.” His right hand released your thigh and quickly slipped underneath his chin, letting his thick fingers finally breach your needy cunt. The knot in your stomach wound impossibly tighter and then just as he crooked his fingers, hitting the delicate bundle of nerves within you, Sam spelled one more word.

M-I-N-E

“Fuck fuck fuck!” You thrashed on top of him, wave after wave of euphoria washing over you, drowning you in it as Sam’s unrelenting ministrations pushed you right into another orgasm just as the first was dying down.

Your hands flew to his silky hair and tried to pry him off of you but he kept going, seemingly determined to make you pass out from the pleasure. “Too much.” Your whole body shook as your nerves lit up like fireworks.

“Oh god-“ Suddenly, the tell-tale rumble of the Impala had both you and the man you were straddling freeze. The car door squeaked and you both looked at each other. 

Sam grabbed your hips and rolled you onto your back before ripping his half-naked body from yours. You threw the covers over yourself and shut your eyes, praying that your heavy breathing wouldn’t be noticed by the other hunter. 

Just as Dean’s footsteps reached the motel room door, Sam had tugged on a new (non-ripped) flannel from his bag. Your eyes slammed shut as the door creaked open and Dean slipped inside.

There was a beat of silence. “She sleeping?” You breathed out a sigh of relief, you couldn’t imagine what he would’ve thought if he realised what was happening between his soulless little brother and you barely moments before.

“Yeah.” Sam responded in a clipped tone, a now regular occurrence with his brother. Dean hummed and you heard the sound of a plastic bag being placed on the kitchen counter.

“I got some food for us. You want any?” You could’ve melted from the genuine concern in his voice but as Sam answered, your stomach churred with embarrassment.

“I already ate.” He smirked as he wiped away the last remnants of your cum from his lips with his thumb.

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[slasherslittlesimp]

Cursed (Avengers X Reader)

PART ONE

Dark circles rest beneath your glazed (E/C) eyes that stare blankly ahead in an unfocused daze. Your hair is greasy and unbrushed, having not been touched in quite some time. Your hands are trapped against your sides as the black leather straight jacket you're forced to wear prevents them from moving- To prevent them from tearing the muzzle from your face.

Due to your rather strong and problematic ability, your captors keep a rather tight muzzle on you at all times. It's controlled by a small handheld device that can unlock it from a distance which allows them to give you access to your ability without putting themselves in harms way. Usually they stick you in a secure room with whoever it is they need you to use your ability on before allowing your muzzle to fall off so you can do as instructed. Once the task is complete, they wait until you place the muzzle back on before retrieving you and returning you to your small room.

The muzzle is high tech not only due to the fact it can be removed remotely, but also because it can cause you immense amounts of pain should it be attempted to be removed in any other way. You learned the hard way that trying to pry it off with your hands will lead to strong volts of electricity coursing through your face, the pain damn near killing you. Since then you've been forced to wear the black straight jacket to keep you from trying again. Not that you would.

You're an extremely useful asset to them- probably the strongest that they have. While they don't particularly care about your comfort or most basic needs, they do care about keeping you alive for as long as possible. Anything that could be a risk to your life is always kept far from you almost as if they think you'd be willing to take your own pathetic life. You wouldn't, but they don't really believe that.

It's why you're almost always strapped and muzzled like a wild beast. The only times your arms and mouth are free is when they need you to do your job or when you're eating. They always send in an agent to undo the straps of your jacket to allow you minimal use of your hands- so you can eat and put your muzzle back on on your own. Once the muzzle is secure on your face once again, the same agent will come back to restrain you once again. You've spent most of your life with your arms folded up in the restricting jacket that it almost feels unnatural to move them in any other way.

You've no idea how long it's been like this, either. Since your capture, you haven't seen the outside world except for handful of times- though that was long ago. Since then not even a passing glance through a window. You've been confined to the same small section of the base only moving between two rooms that are separated by a long hallway. There's dozens of other doors along the walls of the hallway yet you've never once been through any of them. You've also never seen them be opened. It makes you wonder if there's even actually anything in those random rooms.

You're pulled back to reality when you hear voices outside of your room. Their voices are quiet and somewhat muffled but if you focus hard enough you can almost make out what it is that they are saying over the sounds of the alarm. You don't recognize the voices, but then again there's hundreds of agents in this horrendous group and you know that you haven't met more than a few.

"Are you stupid?!" One of the voices sounds almost exasperated as they hiss the words at whoever it is they're talking to.

"She can help!" The other person argues, his voice slightly louder than the others.

"Help who? Because as far as I'm concerned she's more likely to help them." You can tell that he's trying his best to convince the other person without raising his voice. He's likely trying to avoid detection since you know he probably isn't supposed to be in your section. "We wouldn't stand a chance if we released her and she decided to help them."

"We don't stand a chance regardless!" He sounds almost desperate as he practically pleads with the other man. "She's our only chance! We're screwed without her!"

There's a slight noise you can't identify before the other man responds. "Do you honestly think that the asset will help us fight after everything that has been done to her?"

"Maybe we should let her free regardless. I mean, she's a human being and yet she's treated like a damn dog. I think we should let her go with them." His voice is soft as he speaks to the point where you can barely make out what he's saying.

"We'd be killed for that. Are you really willing to throw your life away for some girl you've never even met?"

The question is met with silence, leaving you unaware of what's happening outside of your door. All you know is that apparently the base is under attack and that there's a chance that whoever it is will save you. That is unless you decide to fight against them should you be released from your restraints. If you are released, you're almost certain that you'll remain neutral, not helping either side as you hate using your powers.

The next thing you hear is a commotion outside of your room which sounds a lot like people fighting. You're unsure if the two men from before are still out there or not but if they are then they will likely lose the fight against whoever it is they're facing. If they were scared enough to consider releasing you then their opponents must be quite strong.

The fight outside your room lasts for a few minutes, the grunts and yells being the only sounds until everything suddenly goes silent. The sudden silence is disrupted by doors opening and closing as whoever remains searches through the rooms. You're unsure what they're searching for but whatever it is they're looking for must not be in any of them as they quickly move to the next room.

They grow closer and closer to your room, the sounds of the doors growing louder until they stop right outside of your room. You stare at the large metal door blocking you from whoever it is outside of your room, waiting patiently to see if they're going to open it or not. For some reason they seem to be taking longer to open it compared to all of the other doors. Is there a difference between yours and those ones? Perhaps. You've never noticed it if there is.

You can't help but to flinch slightly as the mechanical lock whirs before clicking loudly. You instinctually hold your breath, fearing that it may be one of your caretakers coming to collect you. The handle slowly turns as if taunting you before the door finally swings open allowing you to fully hear the blaring alarms.

A woman you've never seen before steps into the room, her eyes instantly landing on your figure as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at her with dull eyes, sending a shiver down her spine- something that she doesn't normally experience no matter what she's facing. Her brows furrow slightly as she examines you, her mind likely racing.

Her eyes trail from your messy hair to your muzzle, then down to your leather straight jacket and torn baggy pants before landing on your dirty bare feet. Her gaze then flickers quickly around your room, taking in the bare minimum that is inside the concrete cell. All there is in your room is your thin lumpy mattress which sits on a wire frame and a dirty metal toilet in the corner with a sink on the back of it.

"I've found something you might want to see." Her voice is low as she speaks, likely talking into her comms that connect her to the rest of her group. You can't hear whatever the person on the other side says but she nods before informing them of her location.

After that she takes a step further into the room, seeming slightly hesitant to get any closer to you. Despite the fact that you obviously would be unable to effectively fight her, she's still wary since she has no idea what you're capable of. It's quite obvious that you must be at least somewhat powerful if they've gone as far as to both muzzle and restrain you.

"Are you alright?" She questions as she keeps her gaze locked on you. It's a question you haven't heard in a long time- nobody here cares how you're doing. What they care about it whether or not you can do your job. Slowly, you nod, letting her know that you are fine and willing to interact.

She doesn't say anything else to you as somebody else comes down the hall, calling what you assume is her name. She shouts back, letting them know which room she's in. A few seconds later a man comes into the room, his eyes on Natasha before flickering over to you. He seems surprised, his brows raising slightly.

"We weren't informed of there being anyone other than agents and scientists here." The man murmurs as he steps forward to stand next to Natasha. "Any idea who she is?"

Natasha shakes her head as she crosses her arms over her chest. "I haven't found the servers yet to download their files. What should we do, Cap?"

"We take her with us for now. I doubt she'll be able to do anything while wearing all of that." He gestures at you as he looks over your restrictive outfit.

Natasha nods in agreement before moving forward. You try your best to keep from flinching as she gets closer, your eyes warily watching her. She watches your reaction for anything negative as she reaches forward before her small hand wraps around your bicep. You allow her to pull you to your feet, her grip tight to keep you from running. She leads you from the room as the both of you follow after the rather large male as he makes his way down the hall to check the remaining rooms.

You personally have no idea where the server room is so you can't really help them- not like you'd be able to vocally inform them anyways. You're all just blindly wandering from room to room, you watching them both skillfully take out any agents in their way before moving on. Finally, after what felt like hours of walking around, you all stumble into the server room where towers and computers fill the room with a blue glow.

"Let's see what secrets we can find today, shall we?" Natasha smirks as she steps away from your side to plug a drive into one of the towers. You know that the first thing she'll look at will be your file. You can only hope that her and the man she called Cap are better people than the ones you've spent most of your life with.

Part Two

[castiwls]

Hii

I was wondering if you could so something with a dean x reader where one of them gets attacked by a djinn and their fantasy involves the other person?

djinn - d.w

pairing; Dean x fem!reader

synopsis; A Djinn's coma causes Dean to come to a realisation

warnings; none

notes; Idk how i feel about the ending of this one

masterlist

Dean groaned as he squinted at the light snaking through the gap in the curtains. Throwing an arm over his eyes he turned pulling the covers up with him. How much did he drink last night? He hadn’t had a hangover this bad in years.

Deciding sleep was the best idea he pulled the cover higher and closed his eyes. The room was quiet for a few minutes as he lay still, his head still throbbing. 

“Dean. Come on you need to get up. You're going to be late.” Someone reached over and pulled the cover down despite his protests. A hand shook his shoulder briefly before he felt a dip in the bed. The hand which had previously been in his hair moved upwards and began carding through his hair slowly. “Dean, come on.” 

Dean frowned slightly. He knew that voice. “Y/n?” He opened his eyes slightly and stared at the person beside him in slight shock. You smiled at him, your hand continuing its movements. “You need to stop drinking at night.” Your voice was still quiet but there was a hard edge to it. “You promised you’d stop.” 

What was going on? This wasn’t normal…at all. Sure you’d been on his case about his drinking habits for ages but you’d never been this nice about it. Normally you’d just make some snarky comment about how he was drinking himself to an early grave before pushing him to bed.

He rubbed at his eyes sitting up slowly. He slowly took in his surroundings as his body seemed to finally wake up. This wasn't the motel. His eyes darted around the room for a moment before landing on you. You looked…different.

You looked happier. The stress lines which seemed to be prematurely forming were gone and those dark bags which seemed a constant under your eyes were gone. Satisfied that he was up you stood from the bed. “You have an hour till you need to go.” 

Dean frowned clearing his throat. The headache seemed to be subsiding. “Go where?” At his words, your frown deepened. A look of concern crossed your face. “The garage. You said you would cover a shift for Bobby remember?”

Dean quickly nodded. “Yeah, yeah sorry just not with it this morning.” You shook your head before leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips before turning and walking out of the room. 

Dean felt his cheeks heat up at the affection. While he couldn’t lie that he enjoyed it, the action also caused warning alarms in his head.

You and Dean weren’t a thing. You’d always just been his best friend nothing more. He slowly stood and walked over to the drawers pushed up against the wall and pulled a few open till eventually he found his own stuff. He’d never seen this house before in his life yet as he looked around the room it seemed that he had lived here for a while. The bedroom alone had pictures dotted around, things he had no memory of.

The last thing he remembered before waking up here was being in a barn on a hunt with Sam and the real you. He rubbed his neck as he racked his brain. What had you all been hunting?

Suddenly it hit him. A Djinn. “Fuck. Fuck.” He kicked the leg of the bed in frustration. That son of a bitch had managed to get the jump on him. He needed to get out of this dreamland fast. 

After calming himself down and getting dressed Dean made his way through the house. As he’d gotten dressed he’d been thinking of a plan. He had to wake up his actual body somehow and then get out of the barn. So far though he had no idea how to do that.

His only hope was that you and Sam would realise that he’d been grabbed and go after him. 

After a few moments, he found himself standing in the doorway to a small kitchen. At the sound of his steps (fake), you turned to face him. “There’s coffee in the pot.” You gestured to the counter beside you before you went back to cooking. 

Was this really his fantasy? Yeah sure, maybe his feelings for you weren’t exactly platonic but he didn’t realise they went this far. While he knew he had to wake up part of him didn’t want to. For the first time in years, you looked calm. You seemed the happiest he’d seen as you moved around the kitchen, humming softly.

“So, um.” He cleared his throat as he leaned against the counter. “Any plans for today?” He cursed himself internally at how awkward he was being but he had to at least act like he had an idea of what was going on.

You pursed your lips for a moment before coming over to him. You stopped in front of him before speaking. “Not much. Probably just more wedding planning I guess.” You shrugged not noticing his expression. “Oh yeah, I was gonna ask if you were happy with the quote for the venue. They need a response by tomorrow.” You stepped back before reaching for two plates from behind him.

Dean stood still as he digested what you had just dropped on him. You were getting married. To him. 

“Uh yea. Yeah, it was nice.” He nodded. You smiled as you turned with two plates. “Great I’ll call them later.” 

Dean followed behind you as you walked over to a small table. He was getting married.

What else was different in this ‘fantasy’

You frowned stepping over a pile of you didn’t even know what. “He has to be here somewhere.” You whispered as Sam shone the flashlight around the old barn.

“Over there” Sam shined the light to a corner of the barn. You could just make out the shape of a person strung up. You and Sam had managed to get rid of the Djinn relatively easily, the hard part was finding his hideout. The creature hadn’t exactly been willing to talk.

You’d only managed to figure it out due to Dean mentioning to you before he left that he was going to a barn a few miles from the motel.

You both rushed over and began to untie him. “Dean! Hey Dean.” Sam shook his brother harshly for a moment. Dean let out a quiet groan before his eyes slowly opened. “Wha-where.” He stumbled over his words for a moment before rubbing at his eyes.

Y/n crouched down beside Sam and reached out to place a hand on Dean’s arm. “Are you ok?” 

Dean nodded. He slowly pulled himself to his feet stumbling slightly. You quickly reached out to steady him. Dean’s eyes flew down to where your hand rested on his arm.

His heart picked up slightly at the touch before he cleared his throat and looked back up to where you were looking back with a concerned expression. He cleared his throat trying to push the woozy feeling in his stomach away.

As the three of you walked back to the car he found his gaze falling on your left hand. Dean had never been one for marriage or even crushes for that matter but for the first time in his life, he felt himself longing for something which seemed so far out of reach.

[mintyys-blog]

avengers x reader: operation: pizza shield

The Avengers Tower was buzzing with its usual energy: Bruce was fiddling with some quantum contraption in the lab, Natasha was perfecting her deadly aim in the gym, and Steve Rogers was in the kitchen looking bewildered by the microwave. Again.

You, the newest Avenger, codenamed “Wildcard” (because honestly, no one ever knew what you were going to do next), strode into the common area carrying two large pizza boxes.

“Alright, team! I have secured the most vital resources for today’s mission,” you announced.

Tony Stark looked up from his tablet, raising an eyebrow. “Please tell me that’s not more pineapple pizza.”

“Tony,” you said solemnly, “you wound me. It’s half-and-half this time. Pineapple for me, normal for the rest of you monsters who don’t understand culinary innovation.”

Thor, sitting cross-legged on the couch, perked up. “Is there goat cheese on the pineapple side?!”

“Obviously,” you replied. “I may be a wildcard, but I’m not a heathen.”

Thor beamed and clapped his hands together. “You truly are a warrior of culture!”

“Can we just have one meal without a pizza debate?” Steve asked, rubbing his temples. “Last time, it escalated into a literal food fight.”

“That was not my fault,” Clint chimed in from his perch on top of the fridge (why he was up there, nobody knew). Sam just laughed to himself.

“You threw the first slice!” Natasha countered, smirking as she entered the room.

“I maintain that I was provoked,” Clint argued.

You placed the pizza boxes on the table and gestured dramatically. “Listen, people, this isn’t just about pizza. It’s about teamwork. Unity. A symbol—”

Tony cut you off. “Oh no, don’t start giving a Captain America speech.”

Steve frowned. “What’s wrong with my speeches?”

“Nothing!” you said quickly. “They’re… inspirational. Just, uh, less is more, Cap.”

Before Steve could respond, the room shook with an explosion. Friday’s calm voice filled the air. “There’s an unidentified threat approaching the tower.”

You grabbed a slice of pineapple pizza and shoved it in your mouth. “Alright, team,” you said through a mouthful, “this is why we’re the best.”

“Please don’t talk with your mouth full,” Sam cringed.

Thor hefted Mjolnir, grinning. “Another battle awaits! But first, one slice of this delightful goat cheese creation.”

Everyone scrambled into action. You sprinted to the elevator, pizza slice still in hand.

“Wildcard,” Tony said over the comms as you suited up, “maybe don’t bring food into the fight?”

“You’ve never fought while fueled by the sweet, tangy energy of pineapple,” you replied.

The battle turned out to be an overly dramatic robot invasion. (Thanks, Stark Industries rivals.)

“Did you just throw a pizza slice at that robot?” Natasha asked over comms.

“It distracted it, didn’t it?” you replied.

“Distracted it or short-circuited it?” Bruce muttered.

“Victory is victory,” you said, hurling another slice.

The battle ended with the Avengers victorious—and a handful of pizza slices plastered to various enemies.

Back in the common room, Thor declared, “This shall be remembered as the Battle of the Pizza Shield!”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I am never letting you order pizza again.”

“Wildcard lives up to her name,” Clint said, raising his soda in a toast.

“Pineapple pizza saved the day,” you said smugly.

Steve sighed. “I don’t even know what’s happening anymore.”

And that was just another day with the Avengers. Chaos, camaraderie, and, of course, pizza.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Introducing....The Love Club

Some of my most loved fics!

Two Sides of The Same Coin · Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader

Every Part of You · Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader

I Can See You · Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader · Summary: You and Bucky don't see eye to eye, everyone knows that. They don't know that you and Bucky once knew each other under very different names. And they most certainly don't know that when he looks at you, he can still every stolen moment, his jacket on the floor, notes saying meet him at midnight, you up against the wall with him. No, they don't see that at all.

The Uptown Girl and The Brooklyn Boy · Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader · Summary: Everyone knows that all any Uptown Girl needs is a Greaser from Brooklyn to make her forget all about her uptown world.

Let Me Help You · Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader

"Slut!" Pairing - Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader Summary - It was perfect. Lovelorn and nobody knows. Love thorns all over this rose. You almost forgot just how hard the fall back to reality is. But if they call you a slut, it might be worth it for once.

My Personal Favorites

And here are some of my personal favorites because everyone is welcome in the love club!

On the Run · Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Timeless · Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader · Summary: It's the kind of love you find once in a lifetime, the kind of love you don't put down, and somehow, you know you would've found each other in every life.

If You Lie Down With Me · Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader · Summary: You know what kind of man he is. A liar. The sort of man that promises everything under the sun. The sort of man that promises dreamy nights and delivers lonely mornings. You only wish his lies weren't so sweet.

Midnight Rain · Pairing - Sam Wilson x Reader · Summary - You broke his heart because he was nice. He was Sunshine, and you were more like Midnight Rain.

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist