#stu's spn drabbles

[stusbunker]

Stu!! I’ve missed you!! Was busy with laundry & watching a movie so I just seen your request for prompts! Hope you’re doing well?! How about “stop staring at me!” “ I can’t, you’re so cute when you’re concentrating.” 💜

Dean was scanning a news article when she walked in, a mug of fresh coffee in each hand. He saw her in his periphery but needed to see what else the locals had found, which led him to digging for the evidence reports through the town’s crap website, because of course the newspaper was given only a smidgen more than jack shit to publish. He could do this; it wasn’t that hard. Sam did it all the time. Charlie could do it in her sleep.

He was reading what he was typing under his breath, pink lips distracting as she stopped at the side of the table not covered in lore books or a laptop. He was so focused; she could almost hear the gears of Dean’s thoughts churning. It was amusing and arousing watching him work through whatever he was so wrapped up in, knowing his problem solving skills were more than beneficial in the bedroom.

“Stop staring at me,” Dean muttered, cocking an eyebrow her direction, eyes peeking over the screen.

She shook her head. “I can’t; you’re so cute when you’re concentrating.”

Dean considered that, fat lips and all. He liked it when she didn’t hold back, especially when it had to do with how he made her feel.

“Is that so?” He sank back into the chair, confidence getting the better of him. “Whatcha got there?”

She held up his mug and took a long, loud slurp off the top. “Coffee, might’ve gone cold waiting on you though.”

“Sorry to be so— adorably distracting,” Dean teased. She took a step forward and he patted his lap. She rolled her eyes, but gave in, leaving the mugs on the table for safe keeping.

“What’s got you so intense Mr. Winchester?” She purred, running a fingertip down his forehead, between his eyebrows to the tip of his nose.

“A case, maybe,” Dean breathed, shifting her on his lap until he had room to appreciate the feel of her curves against him.

“Is it urgent?” She paused inches from his mouth.

“Doesn’t have to be,” Dean gave her a desperate whine as she ducked away from his kiss.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?” Dean’s gaze was very obviously falling from her lips down to her cleavage.

“Should I leave you be? Let you figure out if it’s a case or not?” She grew firm.

He whimpered, hands sliding up and down her thighs. “Five minutes?”

“It better not be less than ten if you know what’s good for you,” she snipped just before attacking his mouth with a commanding kiss.

Soup or Bowling Drabbles

[stu-recs]

😍💜💙💚

Hi! I’d like to request a drabble with the prompt “ you’re not a burden.”

It really resonates with me at the moment.

Thank you in advance ❤️

You'd never been able to contribute all that much. You knew you weren't as strong as Dean and Sam, as skilled with a weapon, as fast or as smart or as intuitive. But recently, it felt like all you'd been doing was dragging them down.

You wince as you dab at the cut on Dean's temple with a washcloth, and his hand catches your wrist.

"Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" He brings your arm down, meticulously scanning you for an injury he missed.

You blush in embarrassment and shake your head. "No, I'm good. This just looks so painful, I think my reflexes were living vicariously through you."

You can feel the creases in your face as you pull away from his grip and resume the task at hand. You can also feel Dean's heavy gaze on you, but you make a point to not look him in the eye.

"Is something wrong?" he pushes.

You force a smile. "No, I'm good. Seriously."

"Y/N."

The amount of gentleness he wraps around your name makes your chest constrict.

"I just... You got this because of me," you whisper, wiping one last spot of blood from his face and then clutching the cloth in your hand, eyes downcast.

"Wait, what?"

"I couldn't stop that vamp, and you had to swoop in and save my ass. Again. And you...you got hurt." You swallow, stand up and go place the rag in the motel's bathroom sink. "You're always having to make up for all my inefficiencies. I don't know why the hell you still bring me along." You lean against the laminate countertop, head hung low, not even wanting to look at your own reflection. "I'm just... I'm dead weight, Dean."

A silence follows your words, creating an open invitation for tears to well up in your eyes, the lack of his contradiction an affirmation to the burden you've always felt yourself to be.

"Hey, will you come here for a second?"

You look over your shoulder, see him pat the bedspread beside him, and it takes all of your effort to move your feet back across the small space. You settle gingerly on the edge of the bed, hands clasped tightly in your lap, and try to shut out the whirlwind of voices in your head without any success.

You're not good enough. You'll never be good enough. Do you really think Dean wants your help? That he needs your help? You're pathetic, a liability, the boys get hurt because of you. They don't really want you around. Do you really think that-

Dean's hand on your chin cuts the incessant stream off as he turns your head, catches your eyes with his. "I bring you along because I want you with me, Y/N."

"I'm just a burden, Dean-"

"You're not a burden," he says, his voice adamant. "Don't you think that for one second." His hand leaves your chin to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear, then trails down your neck before settling on your shoulder. "You're learning more every day, getting better every day. "

"It's still not enough. You're always having to rescue me when I screw things up."

"You're being too hard on yourself. You're a lot better at this than you give yourself credit for." He squeezes your shoulder. "And I'll gladly rescue you. Any time, any day."

You're crying now, but not for the same reasons you would have a few moments ago. "I feel like that's too much to ask of you, of Sam."

"It's really not." He draws you into his side in a firm hug, kisses the top of your head. "Because you're worth it, okay? You're worth every second of it."

You will your heart to believe it, to believe him. To change the narrative you always play about yourself to reflect what Dean sees in you.

"You might have to remind me of that a few more times," you say quietly, leaning further into him.

He tightens his arm around you. "I can definitely do that."

-------------

If anyone has a wee Drabble request, I’m very much feeling this list of prompts right now and would love to do some writing! xo

[deanwinchesterswitch]

Weekly Fic Recs

graphic by @tumbler-tidbits

Hello! This will be the last weekly fic rec post for a while. I'll still be reading, reblogging, and rec'ing fics, but going forward, I will now be doing a monthly fic rec list. The first post will be on Monday, July 4.

If you'd like to see the fics I've rec'd in the past, they can be found on my Weekly Fic Recs master page.

So many lovely stories this week ~ hurt/comfort, kinky, and just plain sweet.

Enjoy!

Many of these blogs and fics are NSFW-18+. Please honor any requests from a blog regarding no minors and heed the warnings for each fic.

All fics are from the SPN fandom unless otherwise noted.

-Drabbles-

Stu's 4 Me 2 U Blog Celebration ~ @stusbunker

A Wish or a Warning (Dean x Reader)

In The Safety of His Arms (Dean x Benny)

Turning Sundaes Into Someday (Dean x Platonic Reader)

Hurt/Comfort Drabbles ~ @trexrambling.

"I don't mean to bother you." "You're not." prompt (Dean x Reader)

“I didn’t know where else to go” prompt (Dean x Reader)

Tell me about… ~ @impala-dreamer.

The Worst/The Best (Dean x Reader)

-Ficlets-

No title-written for a prompt request ~ @thoughtslikeaminefield. (Dean x Reader)

Finished ~ @idreamofplaid. Author's Summary: Sam’s life has taken a decisive turn.

-One-Shots-

Rainy Days and Mondays ~ @kellyn1604. Author's Summary: You and Dean reminisce about your childhoods and decide it’s never too late to play in the rain.

Don't Be a Tease ~ @downanddirtydean. Author's Summary: A little teasing never hurt nobody… even if it is at dinner with Dean’s parents.

Living Dead Girl ~ @hellowhisperingstars. Author's Summary: When you get turned into a vampire you thought your life was over. But your family knows a cure and it’s not going to be a fun night.

An Unexpected Matchmaker ~ @writercole. Author's Summary: None (Jensen x Reader)

-Series Chapters-

Mine-Pt. 2 ~ @waywardbaby. Author's Summary: Their encounter of the previous night gets an encore.

-The Boys-

Something New ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: None; Drabble (Jensen x Karl)

The Perks ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: Jensen is stressed out on the set of The Boys and Karl decides it’s time that he learn about one of the best perks of the job…

-MCU-

The Bad Days ~ @wkemeup. Author's Summary: You and Bucky weren’t supposed to be together, not according to the cruel voice in the back of your mind or the two agents you overhear mocking your relationship

Talk Is Cheap ~ @princessmisery666. Author’s Summary: Steve longed to go back in time to change what happened, but would changing the past make the future better? Can he convince Jess to accept a different future?

[stusbunker]

A Day in the Life

A Supernatural AU Drabble

Featuring: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Written as my ‘Day Of’ Drabble for My Five Fic Fridays for 500 Followers Celebration

Voted on by my followers: Dean/Reader Fluff

The leaves crackled beneath the ice-crusted snow as she maneuvered from the curb, bypassing the driveway for the front door. Dean didn’t mean to rush her as his arms hovered within reach, if she slipped or dared to accept his help. She rolled her eyes at his over-protectiveness and marched up the cleared off porch.

Dean raised his eyebrows conspiratorially before knocking on the storm door. She chuckled to herself as the cacophony of voices, barking and beckoning, then the rushing footsteps as they reached the door. Before they knew it they were overwhelmed with little voices, “Uncle Dean’s here! Ma, Ma!”

Their niece dove into Dean’s arms, needlessly bolstering his ego.  “How’s my best girl?” He crooned into her auburn waves.

“A-tea, A-tea?” The toddler boy cackled from the living room, jumping in place as his dad froze the animal program they had been watching.

“Hey guys, come on in,” Sam gave them a tired smile, holding the door wide, brushing cheeks and patting backs in welcome. They all soon settled in for their monthly family dinner, napkins in laps, wine uncorked and children generally subdued behind their mountains of mashed potatoes.

When Sam moved to fill his sister-in-law’s glass, she shook her head slightly, letting the knowing mischief creep from his face to his wife’s and then back to the mother-to-be.

“I’ll have some,” Dean insisted, tonguing his cheek to fight the fresh burst of pride spreading across his face. Sam nodded, putting a generous portion in the etched glass.

“Easy, there, or I’m driving home,” she warned, causing quite the upset as Dean spit half his last gulp back.

“A toast?” Rowena stood, clearing her throat pointedly, glass raised. “To family, and all wee bairns to come.”

The clinking of glasses from every edge of the table continued throughout the meal; the kids finding any excuse to leave their seats and avoid finishing their vegetables. After dessert, Dean helped with the dishes, giving him time to soak in the chaos of domesticity. Their niece was scratching out her name on the picture she finished for the new baby while their nephew sucked his thumb, and tugged on her hair.

It was damn near perfect and Dean couldn’t help feel a little out of sorts by it all. Sam bit back a taunt as he watched his brother get choked up. He slapped a fresh towel over Dean’s shoulder and followed his gaze to their wives in the next room.

“How’d we get so lucky, huh?” Dean muttered, shaking his head at his oversized little brother.

“Who knows, man. Maybe in some other lifetime or dimension or whatever, we get the shit deals. But, I’m not questioning a happy ending. Not today.” Sam sighed, contented and grateful.

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Dean nodded, stacking the pots before moving on to the silverware.

“You nervous?” Sam eyed Dean, waiting for his innate paranoia to settle in.

“Nah, I’m good,” Dean shook his head, eyes dark with sarcasm. “Just peachy.”

Sam breathed out a commiserating laugh. The dishes were done and before everyone knew it, they were sent home overloaded with leftovers and pictures for their fridge at home. Dean settled into the driver’s seat as she balanced the barely touched pie in her lap.

Dean took her in, hair soft and eyes bright, skin prickling from the cold and silently thanked whoever sent her his way. She rolled her eyes and winked at him, bringing him back to the present.

“Home, Jeeves,” she demanded, patting his thigh.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean turned the engine over and let the Impala bring them home.

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Master List

Here we are, the most recent Master list as of December 5, 2020

warning, a very long list! I hope this is organized well, tumblr is hard to format lmao

Lucifer FOX

Lucifer Morningstar

Too Many Run In’s Sick Comfort No Teasing Happy Dog Slow Understanding It’s Ways I’ve Got You Jagged Scars The Devil? In Our House? Jealousy Doesn’t Suit You Coffee and a Side of You Robbing Stopped West Coast Taking the Pain My Acceptance Ear Muffs Lucifer Likes Together Again Always Anniversary Peppermint You Don’t Need Them Nothing Inbetween Mornings (Smut) Homemade Father Material First Impression Brother Dear Back Away Panic Pregnancy Snoring Burning Shower Feelings Are Fatal Spontaneous Date Overhead He Got Moves Gift of Sight Special Treat Cerberus Valentines Day Cuddles  Petals (Part 2) Bloody Lips All Natural  Slippery Business Secret Admirer Insecurities  Breaking the Shell The Cats Got the Devils Tongue Focus on Me Recovery is Not Linear

Mazikeen I Love Her

Dan Espinoza My Knight

Lucifer Imagines Lucifer Morningstar: (X)(X)

Lucifer Series Mending: (1) (2) (3) (4 Final) Hot to the Touch (1) (2) (Finished) Symbiote (On Going): MASTERLIST

Marvel

Peter Quill 

Hottie Boy 

Steve Rogers Surprise, Surprise Five More Minutes  Doughnuts Just A Movie  Drunk Backstreet (Tony Stark/Steve Rogers)

Tony Stark Your Savior  Christmas Proposal  Drunk Backstreet (Tony Stark/Steve Rogers)

Pietro Maximoff Snowy Fun (featuring Wanda) Flying Is Just As Great  Intake  Awkward Introduction 

Bruce Banner Calming Effect

Bucky Barnes Just A Dream  Braids 

Scott Lang Everything’s Alright 

Peter Parker A Hero Even In School (This is based off the Andrew Garfield movies)

Thor Odinson New Years Kiss 

Loki Laufeyson Tear 

Matthew Murdock She’s Mine  Secrets Unfolded  Warm Nights 

Frank Castle Crossfire  Thorns 

Cable Magic Hands Carol Danvers Domestic  Misc. Ugly Christmas Sweater Party (Avengers) Marvel Imagines Steve Rogers: (X)(X)(X) Tony Stark: (X) Bucky Barnes: (X)(X)(X)(X) Loki: (X) 

  Twilight

Jasper Hale: A New Feeling Decor Fun A Little Ray of Hope

Series Far Gone (Chapter 1) Brought Back (Chapter 2, final) Cherry Red (chapter 1) (Chapter 2, final)

Carlisle Cullen: Cold Imprint

Series Young Love (On Going): Chapter 1

Sam Uley: Control 

Seth Clearwater New Possibilities  In His Arms

Twilight Imagines Jasper Hale: (X) Garrett: (X)

Drabbles Valentines Day Drabbles (Jasper and Carlise)

Sherlock Holmes

Pillow Fight  Safety in a Dark Trenchcoat Break In

Sherlock Holmes Imagines Sherlock Holmes: (X)(X)

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Fake It Till You Make It Intact

Castiel Oh, Miss Believer

Gabriel Moments Like These (Gabriel) With Everything (Gabriel)

Lucifer True

SPN Imagines Sam Winchester: (X) Dean Winchester: (X)(X)(X) Castiel: (X)

Detroit Become Human Connor RK800

Escape [X] Pretty Bruises

Harry Potter

Sirius Black: Your Protector (Young Sirius Black)

Draco Malfoy Stumbled Words 

The Weasley Twins Started With a Crash, Ended With a Kiss 

HP Imagines The Weasley Twins: (X) Remus Lupin: (X)

Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them

Newt Scamander Newt Salamander Familiarity Glasses

Slashers

Michael Myers Nothing Expected (Part 1) (Part 2) Bad Luck

Ghostface Cherry (Stu Macher and Billy Loomis)

The Boy (Brahms Heelshire) Heat Wave

Barry (Barry Berkman)

Spectacularly

Doctor Who

10th Doctor Something Strange(crossover with Stranger Things)

Stranger Things

Alexei

Carnival Kiss

Crossover Something Strange(crossover with Doctor Who)

Gotham

Oswald Cobblepot

Heartbeat (Oswald Cobblepot)

Edward Nygma Don’t Let Me Go (Edward Nygma)

Gotham Imagines Edward Nygma: (X)

The Walking Dead

Daryl:

You’re Perfect Light Touches Don’t Be Jealous Delicate Sunshine Wow She’s Stunning

Rick Grimes:

Family Reunion Show Me the Ways

Paul Rovia Judgement Free

TWD Imagines Rick Grimes: (X) Daryl Dixon: (X)(X)(X)

Kingsman

Harry Hart

Always Thinking of You Remember Me

Kingsman Imagines Harry Hart: (X)

Arrow

Arrow Imagines

Floyd Lawton: (X)

Assassins Creed

Conner Kenway Truely Amazing

Jacob Frye My Own Help

Twenty One Pilots

Josh Dun Safe and Sound Photographs Try Not To

Hetalia Russia Smiles

IRL People Fics/Imagines Anxiety Smooch (Chris Evans)

[stu-recs]

OH GOD that ending! humuna humuna

False Alarm (Sam x Reader)

Bodyguard!Sam. 523 words, mature.

You’re just getting out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a towel, when you hear your bedroom door slam open. You specifically asked that you not be disturbed, and you scowl, peeking out the door.

It’s the new bodyguard, Sam — you’ve been flirting with him ever since your dad hired him, and you’ve seen the way he looks at you.

He strides toward you, jaw set, and all at once you realize what it means, that he’s in here.

“Alarm tripped,” he says quietly. “We’re going in the panic room.”

“Wait, I—”

Before you can protest, he’s grabbing you, slinging you over his shoulder one-handed, towel and all. You squeak, torn between genuine fear and indignant surprise at the rough way he handles you.

Fuck, he smells good.

He walks to your closet, where a wall of shoe shelves swings open to reveal the state-of-the-art panic room. It’s tiny, not even as big as the closet itself, but essentially impenetrable. When the thick bulletproof door locks behind you, the room goes completely dark for a moment before the dull red glow of the emergency lights kicks in.

When Sam lets you go, you slide against his solidly muscled body the whole way down, and you put your hands on his chest as your feet hit the ground, pressing against him, shaky but also just reluctant to break the contact. He’s not stepping back — not like there’s much space for it, even if he did. His eyes are glittering, dark and intense as he looks you over, apparently checking that you’re still in one piece.

“Like what you see?” you ask softly, and you let the towel sag low enough that it barely covers your nipples.

“You know I do,” he says roughly, and a muscle in his jaw works as he swallows hard.

You were starting to think you’d imagined the flame smoldering between the two of you.

For a second you wonder why the hell he’s admitting it now, of all times. Then you realize that there are cameras in most of the house, a top of the line security system monitoring Sam’s location… if he were caught on film going into your bedroom, for example, your father would know.

Here in the panic room, though, there are no cameras; nobody is watching.

The intercom crackles to life, and a staticky voice comes through: “False alarm, all clear.”

Both of you stare at each other in the dim red light. Sam’s breath catches, and you feel the heavy rise and fall of his chest under your hands.

“We could wait,” you suggest. “Just in case?” Then you step back just enough to let your towel fall, and Sam lets out a soft, desperate sound.

He doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t question it, just grabs you by the wet hair and yanks you in for a rough kiss that makes your knees feel like jelly.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first goddamn time I saw you,” Sam says roughly, and then he pushes you back, pinning you against the wall before sinking to his knees in front of you.

[stusbunker]

Prompt: Rose

Sam blanched slightly before trying to slap on an indifferent face, but his nonchalance was too put on for his own good.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he frowned and shook his head, eyes shooting to everywhere but you.

“Sam, what’s wrong?” You enunciated each syllable, you didn’t have time for distractions, you had a demon to lure.

“Uh, I guess I didn’t know you had a tattoo,” Sam huffed a forced laugh and cleared his throat while you adjusted your collar buttoning up the dress shirt as he perched above. The backseat of the Impala was the worst possible place to change into your fed disguise, but time was thin the entire case.

You looked at your right tit as it bubbled over the cup of your bra and back to Sam, knowingly. The faded rose petals peeking through the lace trim.

“This thing?” You tisked, crawling out of the car a little closer to his long body than was necessary. “You should see my other ones.”

He visibly swallowed now, eyes focused on your hairline while you clasped the last two buttons. “Other ones?”

“Yeah,” you closed the door and grabbed his tie. “You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

Dean yelled from the porch, “Seriously?! Right now?”

Sam once again, cleared his throat while you peeled yourself from his chest. But a single word drifted up to you, in husky secret. “Deal.”

Ask Me Anything/ One Word Prompts

[stunudo]

Hi, yes, I had this answered and the ENTIRE THING EVAPORATED! (x7)

12. Next OS you plan on reading?

This little destiel drabble I saw the SPN side of my dash.

13. If you could which one would you write over again?

After scrolling through my masterlist because nothing came to mind (in this fandom) I decided on Along This Long and Winding Path.

Two reasons: A. I do not recall the plot or anything about it AT ALL. There fore I must not have spent that much time on it, ergo it must need some work.

B. The summary made me nostalgic now that the show is over.

14. Dialogue or internal monologues?

Which I write better or more often? Gosh, Stu maybe you should have phrased this question better. Huh, okay, let’s say I don’t use dialogue as much in my Criminal Minds stuff as I do now in SPN. But I guess Prep School could be the exception.

I don’t think I got the voices of the profilers down as precisely and therefore didn’t use conversations as much as I could have.

23. What is a story you want to write but don’t know how to approach?

I have had a female unsub WIP in my drafts for two years. Even had a chance to write it last year for my unsub square for CM Trope Bingo and still didn’t get anywhere with it. I have a name and an opening line. That’s it.

24. If you could rewrite a piece of a canon arc what one would it be and why?

HAHAHAHAHA!

We’ll start by scrapping the last episode or two of season 14 and then knocking away the first few episodes of season 15 to give us some room to work. Because it will be better. ANYTHING IS BETTER.

Why? Because THE CHARATERS DESERVE BETTER!!!

xoxo

Thanks Sarah!

@ultrarebelheart​

One Shot Ask Game

[seenashwrite]

@stusbunker reblogged your quote and added:

Holy fuck, what did I just read? Nash where have you been my entire Tumblr experience? The mandatory costuming is no joke. It’s in the contract subclause amended by Crowley and his ghost hellhound puppers Juliet. RIP.

Oh Stu. Stuuuuuu. You’ve had a real baptism by fire this week, what with CASPN and now this. Allow me to pile on. Break glass in case of the sads, you’ll laugh at least once, spit-takes possible.

I present the masterlist for NashHole, Inc.’s Imagination Sanitations department, wherein “Imagine...”-s with ridiculous or downright dumb premises are given the treatment they deserve, having been run through the twisted brain of yours truly. This is also where most of my Flurps (quickies, drabbles, what have you) live, inspired by conversations or gifs or whatever. They’re all fun, is my point, nothing angsty or depressing or sappy or needing lotsa brain power.

The Nope Saga is also a fairly popular romp, some relating to me privately that it’s a cult hit because some would rather not expose themselves as being fans of a satire skewering SPN fanfic, a fact in which I delight.

I thank you much for the pass-a-long, glad you got a kick out of it! 😜

[stusbunker]

Drabble of Your Choosing!

Part of my Five Fic Fridays is a ‘day of’ drabble.

Please REPLY with your vote.

This is a follower celebration, so no reblogs please.

This week’s options are:

Bela/Dean

Dom/Sub (Your choice of brother)

Dean/Reader Fluff

Sam/Reader Fluff

Gen Case Fic Monster of the Week

Angsty Monologue

Voting closes at 4pm Central Time!

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Gabriel, Lucifer, Hannah? xoxo

Gabriel: Favorite Kinks to write? To Read?

Bondage, d/s type stuff. Especially if the focus is on trust and control and, like, connection. I’m not super into the more intense, exotic side of that, but if something’s well written and the kink is connected to the emotional story between the characters, I’ll read pretty much anything.  

Lucifer: How often have you laughed at your readers’ expense?

Pfft never! 

Heh. It’s less a laugh and more of an evil mastermind kind of smirk, when it comes to “oh man they’re gonna hate this” moments. I definitely let out a tiny cackle when I came up with the aftercare exchange and also the “oh” in Sharp Edges, and I maybe thought of you when I did so...

Hannah: What is something you still wish to over come in your writing?

I have a serious issue with self-criticism and also needing everything to be, like, meaningful and profound, and I just end up driving myself crazy and getting stuck. I’ve been trying lately to do quick fluff/humor bits and pieces in between the “real” fics, shit like Fluff Friday drabbles or the Harry Styles thing, because it reminds me that it’s okay to just write for the sake of writing, and to have fun with it; I don’t necessarily need a huge meaningful message, or a convoluted plot, or whatever, for it to be enjoyable for a reader. 

Thanks Stu! 

(SPN writer asks) 

[webcricket]

Santa Cas

Characters: CastielXReader ft. Sam and Dean Winchester

Word Count: 1112

A/N: Drabble for my SPN Advent Challenge December 7 Prompt Item - Inappropriate Holiday Gift. Silly sexy fluff.

Chinese take-away containers litter the kitchenette counter. Cold kung pao chicken congeals on a forgotten plate – the green and red chili peppers are festive against the stark white background. A Christmas Story streams on 24-hour marathon on the tiny television mounted in the corner of the room. Santa kicks a protesting Ralphie down the slide. Dean chuckles loud and slaps his knee. Sam cracks an amused grin, an airy laugh emerging from his throat. It’s funnier now than it was the last time, because on this re-watch, you and the brothers are halfway through a second bottle of scotch. Good scotch. The stuff Dean was hoarding in the trunk of the Impala for a special occasion. And what’s more special than a few wandering hunters celebrating yet another Christmas on the road in a dingy motel? You’re all alive. And together. Well, mostly together.

You glance at the phone clutched in your palm. Castiel promised he would be here, but that was two days ago, and a lot can happen to a wayward angel in two days. None of you have heard from him today. Dean pretends not to worry and chortles a little harder at the movie. Sam keeps his yapper shut, but those expressive hazel eyes of his cast sympathetic knowing glances in your direction every so often. Throwing back a swig of the scotch, hissing and catching your tongue between your teeth at the tingling burn, you close your eyes and pray.

A light knock on the door causes you to leap to your feet. Your hand is on the knob, fingers simultaneously unlocking the latch and twisting it open before Sam or Dean can even consider the notion of trying to stop you or let alone urge a little practical caution. Anyone could be on the other side.

It’s Castiel’s gleaming sapphire eyes that greet you, a smile instantly crinkling his features when you throw your arms around his neck. He nearly drops the pile of colorfully wrapped gifts he balances in one arm under the momentum of your affectionate attack.

“Cas!” you squeal. Your combination of enthusiasm, relief, and a smattering of kisses to his beaming unshaven face dislodges the red velvet Santa hat perching atop his dark locks.

“I’m sorry I was delayed,” he apologizes in a whisper. “Merry Christmas, honeybee.”

“S’okay, angel mine,” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his electric scent. “You’re here now.”

Returning your warm embrace with one arm, he kisses your temple. Pressing you to his chest, he lifts you easily at the waist to carry you forward into the room. “Sam, Dean,” he mumbles the gravelly greeting as you continue to hang off him. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Cas,” Sam salutes the angel with a raised glass.

“Or should we say, Santa?” Dean is at the door, shutting out the draft of cold air sucking the heat from the room. He smirks, holding Cas’ lost cap up and twirling it between his fingers, asking, “Seriously?”

Cas squeezes you tight and then lets you to slip to the floor, keeping his arm around you. “It’s festive,” he earnestly offers in his defense.

“And adorable,” you add with a giggle.

Dean shrugs, striding forward to plunk the hat back on the angel’s head. “Santa Cas is comin’ to town,” Dean mockingly croons, giving the angel’s shoulder a welcoming wallop. The presents jostle precipitously and Dean lunges to save them. Snatching them up and stepping backward, he sees his name written on the topmost box. Green gaze glittering, he curiously picks up the box to shake it. “What do we have here?”

“I believe the tradition is to open gifts Christmas morning,” Cas points out. “As the options for last minute late night shopping on Christmas Eve were especially limited, it might be best to-”

“You know what I always like to say, it’s Christmas morning somewhere,” Dean interrupts, ignoring the angel’s caveat.

“You’ve never said that,” Sam pipes in. “Ever. You always say Christmas is stu-”

“-pendous. Stupendous.” Dean winks. “Heads up, Sammy!” He tosses a box Sam’s way. “And this one has your name on it, sweetheart,” he passes the remaining package to you. Wasting no time tearing into his own gift, bits of green striped paper flying in all directions, he produces two DVDs, reading the titles aloud, “Bang ‘Em High and The Wild, Wild Breast.”

Sam snorts.

Squinting, you can just make out the erotic covers of the cowboy-themed pornos.

“Uh, thanks man.” Dean cocks an amused brow. “I do enjoy a good Western.” Evidently Cas was not exaggerating when he said shopping options were lacking.

Sam opens his gift with greater care, more in fear of than in anticipation of what he will find therein. Peeling the paper aside, he reveals a scholarly appearing hardcover text entitled The Hedonism Handbook: Mastering the Lost Arts of Leisure and Pleasure.

“It’s a first edition,” Cas states proudly.

“Yeah, thanks Cas. This seems…um, interesting.” Sam smiles politely, nodding as he flips through the book.

Castiel’s focus falls upon you.

You get the distinct impression Cas did all of his shopping at an adult store and you’re not so certain you want to open a totally inappropriate holiday gift in front of the brothers. “But I-I didn’t get anything for you,” you stutter.

“That’s okay. I have everything I need right here.” The angel’s fingers squeeze the soft flesh of your hip, an encouraging small smile curving his mouth. “Go on, open it.”

You can’t resist the imploring glint of his expression. You stare down at the cheerful snowflake print of the paper – it’s white and blue, as deep blue as his eyes, and you wonder if he chose the pattern for that specific reason. Picking at the corner, you rip across the center and let the paper scatter to your feet. Lifting the lid off the box, you reach inside, fingertips touching thin silken fabric. You feel the heat of a pink blush rising to your cheeks as you unfold the delicate lacey baby blue sheer lingerie within for the brothers to see.

“Looks like someone made Santa’s naughty list this year,” Dean remarks with a whistle. Deciding there are no further jibes to be had and still plenty of liquid cheer to imbibe, he settles in front of the television, motioning for Sam to pour another round of drinks.

Castiel bends to kiss your flushed cheek. Nose nuzzling the heated rose-hued flesh, his lips ghost a tender trail of kisses to your ear, breath vibrating as he speaks, “Honeybee, I can’t wait for you to put that on so I can unwrap you.”

[stu-recs]

Holy fuck, just kill me too!

Beg

"Please... Just please," Dean's voice is rough and low. There's a kind of desperation in it that scrapes his throat from the insides when the words come out.

The man in white tilts his head, achingly slow and with each passing second, Dean's heart is burning. The man in white rolls his shoulder, like he's trying to get to that one crick. But he can't because his hands are occupied, holding Y/N's head in them in a grip. One snap is all it would take.

Y/n's so much shorter than Sam. She used to get teased relentlessly by him. Dean remembers being shocked at first because Sam's not like that. Sam's sweet and tame with his huge puppy dog eyes and dimpled smile. He's always slouched in an effort to make his intimidating body just a bit smaller. So when Y/N had first moved in, seeing Sam be a little shithead to her the way he's only ever been to Dean... well, it had been heartwarming. Y/N used to swat his hand and grin up at Sam.

Y/N isn't smiling now. She's petrified. Her eyes are begging and for the first time ever Dean doesn't understand. He doesn't understand what she's asking. To save her or to save the man who was holding her? And Dean's tried. He's tried to call out to his Sam, but he isn't there. So now he's begging of this monster, holding both his brother and his Y/N to let them both go.

*Snap*

That's all it takes for that look to freeze in her eyes, for her body to fall to the floor with a sickening thud, and Dean knows he's lost them both- the only two people he's loved like this.

Dean begs once more, but not to save someone, there's no one left. No, he begs so that he gets to follow. "Please..."

*****

Gif submitted by @cosicas-cuquis​

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[stusbunker]

Hidden and Found

A One word drabble prompt from @dolphincliffs

“Jewelry”

It wasn’t like you were expecting a commitment, you certainly hadn’t voiced a need for such a grandiose gesture. Yet, here you sat staring at a ring case that was buried in Dean’s sock drawer. Serves him right for leaving laundry duty on you for two cases in a row. You shouldn’t snoop, it would ruin the surprise. But it was already in your hands, just a little peek?

Of course the hinge cranked like a turnstyle and you let it snap closed in pure shock. After a few moments without discovery and a few more heavy breaths, you tried to muffle the opening in the palms of your hands.

It was so not what you were expecting.

For one it was rubber, or silicone most likely.

Two, it was battery powered.

Three, it technically wasn’t even for you.

You stared at the black ring dumbfounded. Then after a few quick shakes of your head, you burst into laughter. Who the fuck puts a cock ring in an ornate ring box?!

Your boyfriend, the one, the only, Dean Winchester, apparently.

Ask Me Anything/ One Word Prompts

[stusbunker]

one word drabbles yay! Dean + pie

“No.” You stood on the overwaxed floor of a big box store with your arms crossed over your chest. Dean was giving you his goober grin and it was almost working on you. ALMOST. Fucker was cute, but he wasn’t that cute.

“I’m not doing it.”

“Come on, it’s the last one they have! Plus, you are going to wipe the floor with everyone there. Please?” He licked his lips and dragged his eyes up and down your body. Okay, he was more than cute, but still.

“Why do I have to?!” You stage whispered. “Make Sam do it!”

Dean held up his hand and shook his face in disgust. “Whoa, now I have that mind crippling visual. Why would you even suggest such a thing?!”

“It doesn’t have to be this one, it can be that one or the first one we looked at!” You were fighting a losing battle here and Dean could smell it.

“Not a chance. It’s you and me on this one and look,” Dean flipped the hanger over to show you the tag. “It’s even your size!”

Three hours later you were clip clopping into the party in shoes a stripper would be proud of. Dean at your side, smug and shiny. Five minutes into mingling with the other guests and Dean started singing a different tune, his hand tight on your waist and his brow furrowed in suspicion.

“I didn’t realize how many guys would be here,” he grumbled.

“How many guys or how many single guys?” you teased him.

“Does it matter? They have eyes and you’re practically naked.” He straightened up as you beelined for the back of the hall, eyes on your not so smooth vamp in question.

“Whose fault is that, Dean?” You cursed under your breath. “I mean, a Cherry Pie costume? How much did you think it was going to cover?”

“That is a mistake I won’t be making again,” Dean pointed in with his tough guy eyes on.

“Yeah, well, lucky for you Sam hates Halloween.” You dodged the punch bowl and followed the bloodsucker out back.

Ask Me Anything/ One Word Prompts

[stusbunker]

Lmao! I love where you went with my prompt!! How about bubblebath for next one?

It had taken you a year and some change to convince the boys to put a tub into the shower room. The moment your aching body was enveloped by the sudsy warmth made every nag and each round of begging worth it. Your hands played in the water, melding and mashing the bubbles into shapes as the light movements echoed off the cavernous walls. You felt like the little girl in Curly Sue or Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman; royally pampered.

All too soon the water cooled and you had to wrap your hair and slip into your robe, nice and pruney. As you finished gathering your toiletries, you heard an argument outside the door. Too curious to worry about propriety, you shoved the heavy door open.

There in the hall was Sam, in his own robe, towel around his neck with his arms stretched behind him, holding Dean back. Dean, who apparently was also waiting for a turn in the tub, had his shaving kit in one fist and was trying to pressure one of Sam’s knees into buckling.

“Uh, guys?”

“Y/N, hey!” Sam gasped, then grunted as he hip checked Dean into the far wall.

“Everything alright?”

“Fine, yeah, good,” Dean explained, his head now locked beneath Sam’s arm. Suddenly he was on the floor, Sam’s robe belt pulled to the ground with him. Sam had dropped his hold on Dean, struggling to cover himself.

“Ah, Dean lost paper rock scissors again?”

“Losing is for those who accept defeat!” Dean declared struggling back to his feet and hurling himself at the door before it closed completely behind you.

Ask Me Anything/ One Word Prompts