#two brothers in a motel room

[thefawnfallacy]

perhaps Sam should stand at the end of a dirty motel bed while Dean sits precariously on the edge, knees between Sam’s thighs in a paradigm of repentance, and let Sam hold his face in his hands. no speaking, just staring into each other’s eyes and breathing the same air and listening to the silence.

[future-dregs]

Yeah John was put in a horrible position and the world they live in is unfortunately as dangerous and violent as he raised his boys to believe it was, and if he was going to become a hunter (a questionable choice at BEST with a four year old and a baby but that's neither here nor there at this particular moment), then yes, the kids need to know what to do and how to stay safe.

But he shouldn't have turned Dean into a mother, he NEVER should have left them alone like he did (my gosh John there are evils in this world that are purely, horrifyingly human), and chipping away at their self esteem and sense of worth, never missing a cruel jab? (Dean knew his "father" wasn't his father when he was KIND AND UNDERSTANDING TO HIM).

John didn't HAVE to be cruel.

But he was.

And he loved his boys and he loved his family, but that didn't change the fact that he was a horrible father and a hard man.

Even with losing Mary and all the unknown unseen forces at work around them, he could've been a good man. He could've been someone who taught and was firm and instructed his boys, but who didn't leave them wondering for their whole lives if their dad even loved or wanted them.

But he was that person and he did those things and he fucked his kids up so well and wholly that we got fifteen seasons of emotional distress out it.

And that's the tragedy of it all.

It didn't have to be as bad as it was.

But it was.

[winchestertheory]

one day i will be ready to talk about the place jess takes in sam's life

[hintsofhoney]

Ladies With Experience

Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When Dean makes an off-handed comment about "preferring ladies with experience", you try (and fail) to not let it get under your skin. You're a virgin, but you've done just about everything else, and when you talk to Dean about it, he offers to be your first. He's your best friend, and you've been in love with him forever... who are you to deny him?

Tags: smut, first time, virgin!reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom!dean, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, fingering, not-so-innocent reader

Word Count: 5k

A/N: As always, thank you to my loves @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing. Would be nowhere without you two 🥰

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“Anyways, let’s say you’re right, fine. Who would want virgins?”

You know Sam didn’t mean it like that , and you felt stupid for letting it bother you. For letting this case bother you.

“You got me,” Dean replied with a shrug. “I prefer ladies with experience.” 

And there it was, like a punch straight to the gut. You hated that it hurt you as much as it did. So what, you’ve never had sex. But you’ve done almost everything else. You knew what you liked and what you didn't. You’ve been around the block a few times with the various sex toys in your nightstand drawer. It’s not like you weren’t experienced at all . But that didn’t make Dean’s words hurt any less. You swallowed down the burger and fries from lunch that were threatening to come up, before standing up from your seat at the small motel room table. 

The brothers looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“I — bathroom,” you managed, before quickly making your way there, slamming the door shut behind you. 

Staring at your reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror, you let the tears fall. Silently, you wiped them away as Dean’s words echoed in your head, and you hated that you loved him. Hated that you’d never be ballsy enough to admit it to him, especially now.

Something like five minutes passed and you knew you didn’t have long before one of the boys — likely Sam — would come knocking to check on you. You flushed the unused toilet so they wouldn’t suspect anything and turned on the faucet, splashing your tear-soaked face with cold water before using a hand towel to wipe it dry. When you emerged, the guys were packing up their duffels.

“Did you find them?” you asked, hopeful.

Dean checked his gun, before flipping the safety on and stuffing it in the back waistband of his jeans. 

“I sure as hell hope so, ‘cause if I’m about to crawl through the goddamn sewers for nothing —”

“They’re down there, Dean,” Sam replied, giving him a pointed look. He turned his attention to you, and if he had noticed anything off, he hadn’t let his face show it. “You coming?”

You grabbed your gun off the dresser and holstered it in reply.

Six hours later, the three of you were sweaty, panting, and splattered in blood after a close fight with dragons in the sewers. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to wade in any actual sewage. You hadn’t said a word to either brother since you had gone to the bathroom six hours ago, and to keep them from growing suspicious of your sudden silence, you opted to take a nap in the backseat of the Impala on the way back to the motel. 

You stirred awake as Dean pulled into the parking lot, barely conscious enough to catch the end of the brothers’ conversation.

“I’ll get her,” Dean said. 

Sam nodded and got out of the car, gently closing the passenger side door before heading inside. 

You rubbed your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them as Dean’s face came into focus. He was looking at you over his shoulder, one arm resting on the top of the front bench seat. 

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

It took a moment for the feeling you had been filled with prior to your nap to come back to you, his words from earlier echoing in your head. I prefer ladies with experience . You shot him a cold glare.

“Alright. What’d I do?” he asked, turning in his seat to better angle himself towards you. 

The question caught you off guard.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You haven’t said a word since we left for that hunt, Y/N.”

“How do you know Sam didn’t do something?”

He replied with a knowing look.

You stared at your hands, clasped together in your lap, and muttered, “It’s nothing. Stupid.”

“C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.

You hated this. How easy he was to talk to. How you had always been able to tell him what was on your mind.

But not this . You couldn’t tell him this. 

You shook your head. 

“Hey,” he said softly, shifting in his seat. He was fully turned around now, reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at those green eyes. “Talk to me,” he repeated, no room for argument in his words.

“I can’t,” you whispered. You wanted to throw up. He was your best friend, and you were utterly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him. He preferred girls with experience, and you had none. Not in the way that it mattered. And he had known that, thanks to a late-night stake-out game of Never Have I Ever . 

His jaw clenched. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

You briefly met his gaze. You couldn’t hold it for long. 

“Was it something I said?” he prodded. 

You stared at the buttons of his open flannel, your eyes quickly darting up to meet his in silent confirmation. 

He sighed, pulling his hand away from your face and folding his arms on top of the backseat, resting his chin on his forearm.

“Do I at least get a hint?”

“Dean, I —”

“C’mon, Y/N. You’ve never not told me anything.”

“Why are you pushing this?”

“Because I can’t stand not talking to you.”

Your heart leaped at that confession, however innocent it might have been. 

“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

“Because I’m making you. You would have silent treatmented me into next week.”

You didn’t respond.

He sighed again, defeated. “Y/N, c’mon. Please? Whatever I said, I’m sorry. I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t mean that you ‘prefer girls with experience’?” you retorted quite sassily. The question tumbled out before you even had time to think of the implication that came with asking it. 

Dean opened and closed his mouth like a damn fish. 

“Thought so.” You began to move to make your way out of the car, when Dean reached out and grabbed your wrist.

“No,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s okay if you do. I told you, it was a dumb thing to be upset about.”

“No, it’s not. I didn’t stop to think about how this case might have been affecting you. You know I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, right?” 

You swallowed, nodded. His hand felt like fire around your wrist.

“But for what it’s worth, I wasn’t serious. I don’t prefer anyone one way or the other. Sex is sex. If anyone’s willing to have it with me, I consider myself lucky.”

“Romantic,” you quipped.

A smile tugged at his lips. “I could show you, y’know.”

You almost threw up right there in the backseat. Your eyes grew wide.

“What?” you croaked.

“Well, if you’re worried about not having any experience… I just mean I’d be happy to, y’know. Show you the ropes.”

“… Of sex?” Really, you thought it was cute that he had this misconception of you. You knew about the ropes. You’d just never been tied up with them. 

“Of whatever you want.”

“You think I want to have sex with you?” It came out harsher than you meant it to, like part of you still thought you could hide the fact that you were in love with him. Like if you just joked it off it would go away, and you wouldn’t have to cross this line with him, even though you so badly wanted to. But you had to protect yourself, your heart. 

You didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes.

“No, that’s not what I —”

You suddenly felt the need to clarify your question.

“No, I — I didn’t mean it like that either.”

Dean’s face morphed into one of confusion. “…So you do want to have sex with me?”

Your cheeks flushed red, and your throat bobbed. “Uh…”

“Forget it, stupid question, you don’t have to an—” 

“Yeah,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Fuck it. Who were you to hold yourself back from the one thing you’ve been wanting for years? You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I really, really do.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Seriously?”

“Oh, cut the shit, Dean. Like you’re surprised. Everyone wants to have sex with you.”

He scoffed. “ Everyone , Y/N, really?”

“There are literally smutty fanfictions written about you,” you replied, reaching into your back pocket for your phone, dead set on proving your point. 

“Gross. And Becky doesn’t count as everyone.”

“Actually, Becky only writes for Sam.”

You realized what you said at the same time he did, and he eyed you suspiciously.

“Why do you know that?”

God dammit. “I don’t. I mean — I — like, she obviously loves Sam. So, like, she wouldn’t write porn about you. Obviously.”

“Uh huh…” There was an uncomfortable silence for a beat or three. And then, “How much smut have you read about me?”

Your face felt like it had just been rinsed with fucking lava, and you knew it probably looked as red as it, too. 

“None!” you exclaimed, way too quickly. 

Dean smirked. “You do really wanna have sex with me,” he remarked, like he couldn’t believe it.

“Trust me, the urge is fading by the second.”

His grin disappeared almost instantly. “Would it help if I told you that I think about fucking you all the time, too?”

“Well, I don’t think about it all the —”

“Y/N.” He said your name like a warning, and the tone of his voice settled right in your core. 

“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Yeah, that helps.”

“Good,” he smirked, before grabbing his phone from beside him. 

“Uh… What are you doing?” You watched as he scrolled for a second, pressing a button before putting the phone to his ear.

“Telling Sammy to beat it.”

Your eyes grew wide. “What!?” you whisper-yelled. “No! Just — we can just do it back here!”

He gave you a pointed look. “I’m not taking your virginity in the backseat of my car, Y/N.”

“Why not!?”

“Because we’re not sixteen, for one. And for two… I wanna make it special.” He rushed the last bit out, like he was embarrassed to say it. And he should be. You cringed as you heard it. 

“Oh my God,” you began.

“Shut up.”

“You did not just say that.”

“Shut up. Sam, answer your phone, God dammit!”

“I have done, like, almost everything else, you know. In the backseats of many, many cars. You don’t need to make it special for me, Deano,” you teased. 

“For the last time, shut your mouth, or I’m gonna shut it for you,” he said, the look he gave letting you know he wasn’t in the mood to play. No, he wanted to fuck you. Beyond that, he wanted to dominate you. And you were more than happy to submit.

You might have been a virgin physically, but mentally? Mentally, you’d probably give Dean a run for his money. 

Sam didn’t answer. Naturally. He was probably in the shower, but you were kind of grateful because as much as you wanted Dean, you didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable. Or worse, give him any reason to give you the talk . Because he totally would. After trying his brother two more times, Dean decided it would be better to just get a room of your own, and you were much happier with that decision. 

You watched as he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping aside, gesturing for you to go ahead. 

“Ladies first.”

“You mean you’re not gonna carry me over the threshold?” you joked. “Thought you wanted to make this special .”

He gave you an unamused look, and you shot back a sarcastic closed-mouth smile before you were being swept off of your feet and over his shoulder faster than you could process.

“Dean!” you squealed, as he carried you through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before practically throwing you onto the bed.

He was hovering over you seconds later, his face a few inches from yours, and the mood shifted from playful to serious.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

You nodded, your fingers coming up to play with the collar of his flannel.

“If I tell you something, you promise you won’t make fun of me?” you questioned, your eyes glued to the plaid pattern on his shirt.

“Promise.”

“I was kinda… holding out for you.” You drew your eyes up to meet his.

“Seriously?” he asked, half laughing. You could tell it wasn’t because he thought it was funny. It was because he couldn’t believe it.

You swallowed nervously, nodding again as you stared into those green eyes, and you hoped that this meant as much to him as it did to you. Something told you it did.

“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he said.

You tilted your head in question.

“About making it special for you. I know it’s like, the grossest thing I could have possibly said but, you deserve so much better than me, and so if —”

“There’s no one better for me, you idiot.” And you almost told him everything. That you’ve been in love with him ever since you met one summer at Bobby’s, back when you were just kids. That everything felt like it led up to this moment. That you wanted him to fuck you and make love to you all at once. That you didn’t want this to be the only time he did. But instead, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him towards you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt like it could have powered an entire country’s electric grid. 

He deepened it, and the two of you were nothing but tongues and teeth and lips — it wasn’t sexy. It was hungry. Starved, more like. Like he had been thinking about kissing you just as long as you had been thinking about him. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips down towards your denim-covered core, down until you felt the hardness underneath his jeans pressed up against the spot where you needed him most, down until you couldn’t help but grind against it. He moaned as he kissed you, so you did it again. And again. And again. And —

“You need to stop that.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. You noticed that your arms were above your head, his hands pinning your wrists against the mattress. You don’t know when that happened, but you weren’t complaining. In fact, it spurred you on. 

You smiled mischievously and rutted against him once more. 

“What’re you gonna do about it, Winchester?”

He dropped his forehead to yours, steadying his breaths.

“I can fuck you like it’s your first time, or I can fuck you how I actually want to.”

“And how’s that?”

He took a shaky breath, like he was actually having a hard time controlling himself. You felt a sense of pride shoot through you at that.

“Like the fucking brat you are.”

You almost came from that alone. 

Wanna know some common misconceptions about virgins? That they don’t have kinks. That they don’t watch porn. That they don’t have a plethora of sex toys  in their nightstand. That they sit and crochet in their convent dorm room all day. Sure, you were years past the age when girls typically lose their virginity, but you were no saint. In fact, you enjoyed being quite the opposite. And you enjoyed being put in your place. 

“Do your worst.”

It was like something in him snapped. His eyes were lust-blown and hungry and you didn’t miss the way his jaw ticked, and then he was undressing you so fast that you could’ve been part of a quick change act. He muttered something about a light system as he took off your clothes, and you nodded in a way that let him know that you already knew how all of that worked. 

When you were down to just a black lace bra and panties, he paused as his fingers hooked under your waistband. He stared at you, his expression serious, and you knew that he was going to give you one more warning. One more opportunity to say, “Actually, I’d like to have a totally normal, non-kinky, first time experience, please.” But that wasn’t what you wanted. 

“You sure you know what you’re asking for?”

You rolled your eyes. “I trust you. Put me in my goddamn place, Winchester. You’ve only been wanting to do it for the past two hours.”

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to do it for a lot longer than that, sweetheart.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, huffing a small laugh before pulling off your panties in one swift motion. His hands came to rest on your bare thighs as he locked his eyes with yours. “Any hard limits?”

You shook your head. “I trust you. I mean, like, don’t pee on me or —”

“Not gonna happen. But… most everything else?”

“Dean,” you began, looking at him pointedly, “I trust you. If it helps, I’ve used like, toys on myself before. And I don’t mean just a vibrator, I mean like… well, you get the gist.”

“So I don’t have to go easy on you, is what you’re saying?”

“Put me in my place,” you repeated.

“Alright,” he replied, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs as he roughly pushed them apart, “but just so we’re clear, that’s the last order you’ll be giving tonight.”

Your throat bobbed and you nodded. “Yes, Sir.” 

You meant it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. No, the title came out in a way that made his jaw clench and his eyes darken and it stoked the fire raging in your core. 

Dean didn’t waste any more time talking after that, his tongue moving through your folds seconds later, drawing gasps and soft moans from your lips. You arched into him, your hands in his hair, silently begging for more. It wasn’t the first time a man had gone down on you, but it was the first time it felt like this . 

He pinned your hips down to the bed with one hand splayed over your abdomen and then his tongue was inside you and “eating you out” didn’t come close to describing his ministrations. He was devouring you like his life depended on it, like the sounds you were making were a goddamn Zeppelin song that he wasn’t anywhere near done listening to. And then he added a finger, and then another, and it didn’t matter how many times you had imagined him doing this while you had your own fingers inside you — nothing would have prepared you for how good the real thing felt.

“Oh — fuck,” you gasped, and he chuckled into your sex and you had to actively think about not coming on his face and ending this whole experience early. 

“You’re close,” he observed, flicking his tongue over your clit as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, and it was so fucking hot how he just knew that. It was like he had been fucking you for years, the way he knew your body, your tells.

You nodded. “Mmhm,” you confirmed, unable to form words with the way the coil in your abdomen was tightening. 

“Hold it,” he ordered.

Your eyes shot open, because it wasn’t the command you were expecting, and you tried to lift your head to shoot him a cold glare but you couldn’t. And he just kept pumping, flicking, licking, chuckling — fucking asshole.

“Mm — fuck — please!” you cried out.

“When you come tonight, it’s gonna be on my cock. So hold it.”

You didn’t think you could. You had played this game with yourself and your vibrator and your self-control was majorly lacking and God his mouth and fingers felt so fucking good and you were there, the coil wound so goddamn tight, it would take nothing for you to let it snap, and then — 

He stopped.

He pulled his mouth away from your core, his fingers out of your pussy, and you were writhing underneath him, because you had been right there and you needed him to be touching you again right the fuck now.

You whined.

He spanked your pussy. Not hard or anything, just enough to see if it was okay with you, and fuck, was it. 

“Stop whining,” he demanded. He positioned himself so he was hovering over you again, his face inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes. “Or I’ll give you something to whine about.”

You were curious as to what that something would be, but sensed that right now wouldn’t be the best time for that question. You nodded instead.

“Good girl.” He smiled when he said it, like he knew exactly what those two words would do to you. 

You squirmed underneath him, it had been too long since he’d last touched you. Too long being thirty seconds at most, but still. It had felt like hours.

“Has anyone ever told you,” he began, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on your collarbone, “that you are very,” another kiss to the other side, “very,” one more to the middle of your chest, “impatient?” He slowly pulled down the left cup of your bra, your breast spilling out of it. “Makes me wanna take my time.” 

His eyes stayed glued to yours as his head moved down to your hardened nipple, taking it into his mouth at a goddamn snail’s pace. You arched your back, and he let you this time, chuckling at how easy it was to make your body react. His other hand slipped underneath you, unclasping your bra in a way that reminded you that he had a lot of experience doing so, and you refused to water the seed of jealousy that had sprouted from the thought. It didn’t matter that he had done this a million times. All that mattered was that he was doing it now, with you. 

He pulled your bra off and threw it haphazardly over his shoulder, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were completely naked, and he still had 87 fucking layers on, the outermost of which was still speckled with dragon blood, and it’s not that you were anywhere near clean, but you certainly didn’t want those clothes touching your bare skin.

“Dean?” you rasped, and he pulled away from your nipple to give you his full attention.

“You okay, sweetheart? Do you want to st—”

“No! God, no. It’s just —” you sighed, exasperated. This was dumb. You were going to stop him for this? Your eyes landed on a spot of blood on the shoulder of his flannel. Yes, yes you were, because that’s gross. “It’s just that your clothes are covered in monster blood and I’m like, totally naked, and I don’t want —”

He chuckled like you were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “I gotchya, baby.”

Baby. Baby ? You tried not to overthink the pet name as he climbed off the bed to take his clothes off, watching you the entire time. Sweetheart, you’d been called a million times. He called everyone sweetheart. But baby? Baby was his car, and no one else. Unless, that’s what you were to him now. His, and no one else’s. You filed the thought away under “Things to Think About After You Lost Your Virginity to Dean Winchester”.

He was in nothing but his boxers now, his cock already hard underneath them, and you bit your lip as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slid them off. And then, there he was, exactly like you’d imagined him but also better, because this was real and happening. You gaped at him, at his size. He wasn’t any bigger than the fake one you had in your nightstand, but that one was nine inches and you could never fit it all the way in. He was perfect. All of him. 

“You okay?” he asked again, crawling back onto the bed.

“Mhm,” you managed, gulping.

He was on top of you again, his forearm holding up his weight as his free hand came to grab your thigh, hooking it over his hip and leaning down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as he moved his hips, teasing you with it. 

“Dean,” you breathed.

“Hm?”

“I want…” you couldn’t find it in yourself to finish your request.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered.

You decided you liked “baby” better. 

“Please.”

“I thought you wanted me to put you in your place?”

You shook your head. “N-next time. Just, please .”

His eyebrows shot up, and you realized what you had said. 

“Next time, huh?” he asked, with that shit-eating grin of his. 

You rolled your eyes. He stopped moving, the smile wiped off his lips as he gripped you underneath your chin, somewhere between rough and gentle, the look on his face telling you he wasn’t messing around. 

“Roll your eyes at me again, and next time I’ll really do my worst.”

You bit back a smile, and you just knew he was thinking, Brat. But you asked your question anyway.

“But not this time?” There was a devilish gleam in your eyes. You were tempting him, and he knew it.

“Do you ever get tired of being such a brat?” 

“Dunno,” you shrugged. “Do you ever get tired of it?” 

His jaw tensed, and he forced a sardonic, closed-lip smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Hm. But not this time, right?”

“Y/N —” he warned.

“Afraid you’re gonna hurt me? Scare me? What’s really keeping you from putting me in my place… Sir?”

For the second time that night, something in him snapped. You yelped as he flipped you over and grabbed your hips, dragging them upwards so your ass was in the air and your chest was on the mattress. Four hits to your cheeks came down in quick succession, and when you reached your hand behind you to block them, it was quickly pinned to the small of your back. Three more hits followed, accompanied by a pathetic, “Ow!” from your lips.

“Color?” he questioned roughly.

“So fucking green,” you replied, dazed.

Seven more hits followed, each one harder than the last, and you didn’t think there was anything better than the sting you were feeling right now. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to mark you up like this.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he commented. Five more hits. 

“Oh, fuck!” you cried out at the last hit, one that felt like it reverberated through your entire body. One that definitely left a handprint behind. 

“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question. He spanked you four more times. “You just wanted me to mark you up, is that it? Think of me every time you sit down for the next few days, hm?” Three more. 

“Mmph!” Your cries were muffled by the comforter. 

“Yeah, I can tell. Look at this fucking mess.” He dragged his fingers through your soaked folds. “Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath, and then he was flipping you back over. He nestled himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied breathily. 

He slid into you slow and easy, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out. 

“Good?” he asked.

“So fucking good.”

When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when the time did come, this was how you wanted to go out. 

“Harder,” you encouraged, and he obliged. “Faster.”

He was properly fucking you now. Hard and fast and dirty. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, forcing him to go deeper. His head was buried in your neck, your nails were clawing up his back, and the room was filled with moans and pants and expletives that put a sailor’s mouth to shame. 

“Shit, baby,” he panted into your neck. “God damn, you feel good. So fucking tight.” He sped up his thrusts, and the bed was squeaking so much that you thought it was going to fall apart underneath you, but you were too far gone to care. He reached a hand down in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, circling it expertly. You were on the precipice of your release in seconds. And then —

“Come. Soak that fucking cock, baby. Come for me.”

And you screamed loud enough to get both you and him kicked out of the motel if they cared enough as your orgasm ripped through you. He fucked you through it, his pace only faltering moments later, right before he pulled out and painted your stomach white. It looked like a Jackson Pollock on your abdomen. Kinda hot, actually. 

“You okay?” Dean asked, looking down at you as he finally caught his breath.

“More than,” you smiled.

He mirrored the look on your face before crawling off the bed and heading to the bathroom. He came back moments later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning his masterpiece off of your skin. When he was done, he threw it across the room, aiming for the bathroom, and it landed on the tile in front of the toilet. He laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you wanted to ask so many questions, all at once. What were you two now? How long had he been wanting this? Would there be a next time? Instead, you opted for —

“You know in fanfictions, they write you as a submissive most of the time.”

He snorted. “They’re half right.”

“A switch?” you asked, surprised. “Lucky me.”

He chuckled softly. “Sorry about your ass.”

You shrugged. “I was asking for it.”

“Oh, you were definitely asking for it. Still, I… I dunno. It was your first time, I didn’t want to get too —”

“It was perfect, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, smiling, dozing off already. “Yeah.”

[figthoughts]

soldier boy just can’t keep his hands out of your underwear no matter where you are and how many times you tell him. 18+

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“not here, ben!”

“we’re in public, ben!”

“butcher’s right next door, ben!”

ben just doesn’t give a shit. his fingers would slip past the waistband of your lace panties and quickly find their way between your thighs, feeling your soft clit with the pads of his fingers.

your eyes dart to the motel door and you let out a breath as you feel him gently rub your pussy, “b-ben, no. the others will be back soon.”

soldier boy laughs, used to your usual worry about getting caught with his hands down your pants. you’re always so concerned about other people when he’s trying to make you feel good.

“sweetness, just shut the fuck up and let me touch you. got it?” he says lowly, his rough fingers speeding up on your clit.

you hum softly, your pleading expression starting to soften as he slips a finger down to your entrance, sliding it in. you gasp quietly as he pulls you backwards onto his lap, his chest pressing against your back as his hand works between your thighs.

your head drops back onto his shoulder as he curls his finger up inside your pussy while his thumb circles your clit, earning little groans and gasps from you. his other hand snakes around your neck, keeping you pressed against him. a gaspy moan leaves your lips as you melt into him.

“you love it when i play with your pussy like this, don’t you? you like the idea of the others catching us, huh, baby?”

you groan softly as he squeezes your neck, your hips starting to roll with his touch, “mmm, yes, sir.”

“good girl,” soldier boy murmurs into your ear and slips another finger into your cunt, his movements becoming harder as your pussy clenches around his meaty fingers.

you feel the knot begin to tighten in your stomach as he fucks in and out of your cunt, his thumb still roughly circling your clit. you groan as your hips jerk forward and you feel him harden beneath your ass. he groans softly as you rub against him.

“you gonna cum, baby girl?” his deep voice rumbles in your ear. all you can do is groan and nod, the pleasure from his hand clouding your brain. soldier boy chuckles and tightens his grip around your neck, forcing a strangled moan to escape from your lips.

“that’s it, cum for m—”

the door of the motel room swings open and butcher and hughie storm in, grumbling about something to each other.

you clamp your legs together in shock as both their eyes drift to you and soldier boy, and his hands wrapped around your neck and in your underwear.

the pair of them take in the scene in front of them. hughie immediately averts his eyes as his cheeks heat up from embarrassment, meanwhile a big stupid grin grows on butcher’s face.

“no fuckin’ shame, you two.” butcher mutters, his voice low and gruff. he shakes his head and chuckles, dumping his bag on the table as hughie awkwardly clears his throat.

your eyes are wide and you’re speechless, too embarrassed to say anything. soldier boy’s fingers continue to move as you squeeze your thighs together, your hand on his wrist silently begging him to stop.

“could learn to fuckin’ knock, ya know? fuckin’ blowjob brothers,” soldier boy grumbles back, secretly enjoying the fact you just got caught together like this, but frustrated you want to stop. he sighs and pulls his hand out from between your legs. your grip on his wrist loosens.

he pulls your head back with his hand on your throat. he moves his lips next to your ear and whispers, "don’t think we’re not finishing this later."

A/N: editing this high lol lowkey I think it makes it easier to focus anyways send me some requests if ur a freak. <333 (i promise i’m working on my current reqs, i’m just a busy girl! but they’ll be out soon)

requests and feedback are welcome!

[em-ontv]

Soothe and pamper.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader

Summary: it had been a long week of hunting, and Dean said he was fine… until you came in, of course.

Content: fluff, Dean being needy and overdramatic (and clingy), no use of y/n, Sam being the third wheel (kind of)

English is not my first language, sorry if there are any mistakes!

Word count: 653

Dean Winchester was a master at the "I'm fine" act. After years of being on the hunt, he could brush off a rough week like it was second nature. So, when Sam asked if he was okay after their latest exhausting hunt, he just scoffed, as usual.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Dean said, waving a dismissive hand like he was brushing off a pesky fly, as if he hadn't spent the last seven days chasing after demons across two states.

"Quit worrying, Sammy."

Sam raised an eyebrow but didn't press any further. This was like Dean's default setting—deny, deflect, and pretend like everything was cool, even if he looked like he'd been chewed up and spat out.

But then, you walked into the room.

As soon as Dean caught sight of you, his entire demeanor shifted. The tough-as-nails hunter, who moments ago had been shrugging off his brother's concern, let out an over-the-top groan so loud it echoed through the bunker.

You barely had a chance to say a word before Dean threw himself into your arms like a wounded soldier returning from battle.

"This week—oh, you wouldn't believe it!" He buried his face into your shoulder with a pitiful groan, his voice muffled against your shirt. "It's been so bad, baby. So bad."

You could feel the weight of his body sag against yours, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. He nestled his head into the crook of your neck.

It would've been pathetic if it wasn't so funny.

"I don't know how I made it out alive," Dean continued, pulling back just enough to look at you with wide, puppy-dog eyes, his bottom lip sticking out in an exaggerated pout. "The food was nasty, the motel beds were terrible, and don't even get me started on the demons!"

You ran your fingers through his hair as he rambled on, completely lost in the comfort of being with you.

"Do you see this?" He gestured toward his body. "I'm a broken man."

Sam, watching this unfold, rolled his eyes so hard they almost got stuck. "You've gotta be kidding me."

And Dean ignored him completely.

"You're the only one who understands, sweetheart." He whined, clinging onto you like his life depended on it. "Sam's no help, he doesn't get it."

"Dean," you said, struggling to keep a straight face. "You were fine like five seconds ago."

"What are you talking about?" He squeezed you tighter, feigning innocence. "I was just holding it all in. I didn't want to scare Sammy. But now... now I can finally let it all out."

"Uh-huh," you said dryly. "And how much of this is just you wanting to get pampered?"

Dean gasped in mock offense, pulling back to look at you again. "Me? Using my genuine suffering to get pampered? I would never—"

You raised an eyebrow at him.

He hesitated for a second, then smirked. "Okay, maybe a little."

Sam snorted in the background, shaking his head as he headed for the door. "You two are ridiculous," he called over his shoulder before disappearing down the hall.

You sighed, shrugging your shoulders. "Well, what can I do to make it better, Dean?"

He was still leaning heavily into your embrace. "You. Me. Bed. Cuddles... for my emotional well-being, of course."

You smiled slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "And all your troubles will disappear?"

"Exactly," Dean grumbled, sounding so serious you had to hold back a laugh. "Exactly." He sighed, content now, taking advantage of the situation for all it was worth.

"And if you throw in a back rub, I'll be a whole new man by morning." He added, his lips twitched into a smile.

"Alright, drama queen. But only because I know how hard it is to be you." you laughed softly.

"You're the only one who understands." Dean murmured, his voice filled with gratitude.

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Too Many Beds

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist 

summary: you want nothing more than an excuse to sleep next to dean again

pairing: (pre-s1/s1) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 2.1k 

warnings: none really, language, bed sharing, kissing, mutual pining, idiots in love, brief mention of the death of reader’s dad

timeline: starts slightly before season one, ends near the beginning of season one

author’s note: a spin on the classic 'just one bed, what ever shall we do?' trope lol

You’d known Dean all your life, practically. You met him when you were six and he was eight; two lonely little kids stuck with absent (job-driven) fathers and baby brothers you felt responsible for. Over the course of the last eighteen-or-so years you ran into the Winchesters during hunts enough that you considered them family. 

When Sam left for college you were there for Dean and when you lost your dad in a hunting accident Dean was there for you. He actually stayed with you, not wanting you to hunt alone since your brother was off at college too.

So, for the last six months you’d been hunting with Dean (who hadn’t spoken to Sam for over a year).

“One room, two queens,” Dean said to the woman behind the counter, placing “his” credit card on the space between them before sliding it toward her.

“We’re all booked up I’m afraid,” she said.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I was actually about to turn on the no vacancy sign.”

“This is the third motel we’ve been to,” you said, “every one of them has been full—you’ve gotta have something!”

“I mean, there’s technically one room left but the heater’s out and my boss said not to let anyone sleep there because of that.”

There was a silent pause; you and Dean shared a knowing look.

“We’ll pay in cash, your boss ‘ll never know,” you told the woman. She smiled and nodded as you paid her with cash. 

“Room 209, my boss gets here at ten tomorrow morning so please leave before then.” She handed you the key and you nodded in thanks.

You had underestimated just how cold the room could be, but when you unlocked and opened the door you understood why the owner didn’t want anyone staying here.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mumbled, following you into the room and feeling the cold air. “We’re gonna freeze our asses off in here!” he quickly closed the door behind him, hoping the icy air hadn’t swept any snow into the room.

“It’s either this or we sleep in the Impala,” you shrugged, “and, no offense to your car, but it’s fuckin’ uncomfortable to sleep in.”

“And there’s only one bed,” Dean sighed.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” you told him, ignoring his complaints. 

**

“Are you shivering or crying?” Dean asked.

You rolled over so you could meet his stare; “Shivering! It’s fuckin’ cold in here!”

“You wanna…cuddle up, maybe?” he asked hesitantly.

“Excuse me?” you laughed a little.

“Look, I’m not thrilled about it either, but it’s cold in here and unless we both wanna catch fucking pneumonia we better be smart and share body heat.”

You sighed, weighing your options; “Fine. But we never, and I mean never speak of this again, you hear me?”

“Understood.” He nodded.

You rolled back over as he scooted closer to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.

“This okay?” he asked quietly, his lips ghosting the back of your head.

“Yeah,” you mumbled back. “Thank you, Dean.”

**

You woke up to the sound of Dean snoring loudly. You were used to his snores, sure, but he’d never been this close. He was laying on his stomach and resting on your chest; his mouth open and his hair tickling your neck. Your first reaction was annoyance but then it quickly washed away as you realized you didn’t want to move a muscle, so Dean could continue sleeping. 

And the more you laid there, listening to his snores, the more you realized how comfortable you were…even in such a physically uncomfortable situation. 

As the time passed and the sun began to rise, you cursed the light that was slowly but surely peeking through the curtain and onto Dean’s face. 

“Morning,” he mumbled to you as he lifted his head up. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his right hand before wiping his mouth. “Sorry,” he chuckled, noticing the small spot on your gray sweater dampened with his drool.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled back. “I think it’s your sweater anyway.”

“I thought it looked familiar.”

He rolled off of you and out of bed. 

You watched as he padded across the dirty carpet and over to the small kitchen. He turned on the coffee maker and the loud, off putting grinding noise made his face scrunch before he quickly shut off the (definitely broken) machine.

“So much for coffee,” he grumbled. “You gonna sit there all morning or you wanna get outta here? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

“I’m getting up,” you replied. You would usually be annoyed at him for rushing you to wake up, but this time the annoyance was…different. Something about his bedhead, the way his lips were pouting over the lack of caffeine, and how he looked in his brown Henley and baggy sweats just made you wanna hold him again. All you wanted was to pull him back into bed with you and hold him in your arms forever.

**

You were beyond frustrated at this point. How many stupid fucking hotels had to have vacant rooms with two beds and a functional heating system!? 

It had been nearly six months since you and Dean shared a bed and you had been looking for an excuse to sleep next to him ever since. 

But the last couple weeks had been different—Sammy was back. Yes, you loved Sam like a brother, but you missed getting to be alone with Dean. You missed sitting shotgun in the Impala and watching him drive.

Sam definitely noticed the way you looked at Dean, but the younger Winchester didn’t say a word. Without being too obvious about it, he tried to do little things that would let you be close to his brother. He’d sit in a certain chair or part of the couch so that you and Dean had no choice but to sit together. Or he’d make some lame excuse so that he got his own room while you and Dean had to share. “I need to do some more research and I need the light, why don’t you two just sleep in the other room?” for example. 

**

“Two rooms, please,” Dean said, reaching into his coat pocket for his wallet.

“Unfortunately we’ve only got one room left,” the cashier replied. 

You almost couldn’t believe your ears, fucking finally!

“Oh, that’s too bad,” you faked your best frustrated look, of course Sam saw right through that.

“Well, I am not sharing with either or you,” he said with a teasing smile. 

“There’s actually a pullout couch in that room, as luck would have it,” the cashier informed the three of you. 

God fucking damn it, you thought to yourself.

**

It was barely after two when you felt the bed behind you dip, and you shook yourself awake. 

“The hell?” you asked, still half asleep.

“The pullout couch isn’t working,” Dean mumbled quietly. “You mind sharing with me?”

You smiled a little and scooted closer into his arms, indicating you were okay with him sleeping next to you.

“Of course I don’t mind sharing with you,” you whispered and his grip tightened.

**

“I’m gonna go get breakfast,” Sam announced. “I’m assuming you want your usual?”

Dean put his right pointer finger to his lips and furrowed his brows angrily. He gestured to you as you slept and Sam got the message. 

“Usual is good,” Dean whispered before Sam left.

Dean stayed laying perfectly still as you slept on his chest, soft snores escaping your lips and to Dean they were the sweetest sound. 

As you stirred awake slowly, he rubbed your back a little.

“Morning,” you mumbled, a small smile on your lips. “Where’s Sam?”

“He went to grab breakfast,” Dean told you. 

You furrowed your brows as you sat up, looked across the room, and realized something; “The pullout bed looks fine? I thought you said it wasn’t working?” You turned back to Dean, who had a sheepish grin growing on his lips.

“So…maybe I’ve just been looking for an excuse to sleep next to you again. Like we did back in that motel when the heat was out.”

“Really?” You attempted to hide the smile trying to find its way onto your face. 

“When we were checking in last night I noticed how your face lit up when they said there was only one room left,” Dean admitted. “And I saw that disappointed look you made when they said there was a pullout couch. So, am I wrong, or have you been wanting an excuse too?”

“I really liked sleeping next to you that night,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “And you’re right, I have been hoping for another ‘oh no just one bed, guess we’ll have to share’ situation but…”

“But what?” Dean asked when you trailed off. You looked down at him. 

“Dean, you and Sam have been like my brothers for as long as I can remember. I mean, Bobby practically raised all three of us and my actual brother as siblings! Your dad and my dad knew each other basically forever and I guess…I guess I figured our lives are too entangled for anything to ever actually happen between us. We’re family.”

“Chosen family, Y/n.” Dean smiled softly. “Doesn’t mean you have to be my chosen sister, you could be my chosen…you know…” 

You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his full lips. 

“That,” Dean finished his previous statement. 

“Let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?” you suggested. “If Sam finds out, then your dad will find out, and he’ll immediately tell my brother, then before we know it Bobby—”

“I get the picture, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled before kissing you again. He put his hands on your cheeks as he sat up. He pulled you onto his lap, your legs now straddling his hips. His hands moved to your shoulders then trailed down to your lower back as yours went into his hair. You pulled away from him after a moment, huge smiles on both your faces.

You looked into his eyes, his truly beautiful eyes, and you bit your bottom lip ever so slightly. Your right hand rested on his left cheek, your thumb stroking his skin lovingly. 

“You’re awesome, Dean Winchester,” you whispered. 

“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he replied before he kissed you again. “And gorgeous, too,” he added. “You know how fuckin’ annoying it’s been, sleeping without you every night since that one time?”

“I do know, Dean, I’ve been just as annoyed about it.”

Dean kissed you one more time before he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, tucking his head into your neck. You wrapped your arms around him too, pressing your lips to his temple.

You pulled out of the hug so you could once again look at his face. Resting your forehead on his, you smiled before you kissed him again. 

“Breakfast,” Sam called out as he opened the door, “is served!”

You and Dean froze for a split second before you hurried off of him.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Sam said, “did I interrupt you two?”

“What?” you scoffed. “Of course not!”

“Interrupt? There’s nothing to interrupt?” Dean added.

“Oh…wow you two are fast,” Sam mumbled, shaking his head as he made his way to the kitchen before putting the food down. “Well, pancakes, eggs, and bacon from the continental breakfast.” He gestured to the food now on the table. “Hope you’re hungry.”

As Sam sat down to eat, you looked at Dean anxiously. Say something you begged him with your eyes.

“Sammy,” Dean started as he got out of bed, “would you mind uh…not telling dad? About me and Y/n…kissing just now? When we find him, I mean.”

“Dad’s never really been invested in your love life, but he’s not an idiot,” Sam laughed. 

“So…you are gonna tell him?” Dean furrowed his brows in frustration.

“Dean, he knows you two are together, it’s not some big secret?” Sam replied, shoveling more food into his mouth. “Damn that’s good.”

“Okay, just hold on—what?” Dean asked. “What do you mean dad knows? There’s been nothing to know since like four minutes ago?”

“Wait,” Sam stopped eating and fully turned to face you and his brother, “are you trying to tell me this is the first time you two have kissed?” Sam furrowed his brows deeply as you and Dean both nodded. “So…never in high school?” You shook your heads again. “That prom we crashed?”

“Sam you were there the whole time? When would we have kissed?” you asked.

“Huh,” Sam let out a laugh. “I genuinely thought you two had been a thing since like… ‘98.”

“What!?” you and Dean exclaimed in unison.

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

→ premise: there existed no such cricumstances in which dean doesnt want your lips against his. bloodied, bruised, even with broken bones, a kiss from his girl makes it all better.

→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: tw: blood, fluff, but some sort of instense making out, established relationship, descriptions of blood and injuries, blood in mouth, nicknames [baby, sweetheart, my girl], reader is described a bit to have anxiety

→ a/n: as always i hope dean isn’t too out of character as i have never written for him! enjoy my loves :) and sorry its short.

A hunt had gone south they got the monster and it was done but Dean was injured, they were headed back to the bunker. That was all Sam spit out over the phone, normally you appreciated his ability to get straight to the point. Currently you were cursing it as he hung up shortly after cause he was the one driving back. You had a million and one questions running through your head and more than half of them weren’t good.

This was the part of the boys going off hunting and you staying back that you hated the most. When one of them got hurt or something went wrong and all you could do was sit there, a chill running down your spine as your blood boiled in your veins, anxiously pacing the living room, trying to not let yourself jump to the worst conclusions which you regularly failed to do.

You used to go on hunts with them and instead of you currently being the one riddled with anxiety, it was Dean. Once the two of you pulled your heads out of your asses (as Sam would say) and realized you’ve had feelings for each other for years, you got together. Being officially together seemed to make Dean's protective nature increase tenfold. He was even more terrified to lose you now than before. He began fussing over you whenever you'd get even the slightest scarpe or bump on a hunt. He would glue himself to your side the whole duration. Forcing you to normally stay back in the motel room when the hunt turned into a more dangerous situation than dean cared to put you in.

You loved Dean but it began to get a bit too tedious to deal with and even Sam made a comment on how overprotective he was being. In an attempt to make hunts go easier and ease your boyfriend's anxiety, once you all situated yourselfs in the bunker you suggested to him that you go out on hunts less, especially when they could now take Cas. Dean jumped at the suggestion but you couldn't blame him.

“I think that's a great idea baby” he said with a kiss to your forehead.

You still helped out, researching things when Sam needed the help, going through old books and files in the library, patching them up when they’d come back with cuts and bruises. You hadn't realized just how jittery you'd be however stuck in the bunker when he was out and especially when they went on far away hunts.

They'd go to the hospital when things were really bad, so you knew if the boys were on their way back then it couldn’t be too bad. The reminder did nothing to sooth your racing thoughts, your heart thumping so hard you could practically hear it pounding in your ears. You didn't know just how long you've been pacing back and forth, too afraid to look up at the clock and realize it's only been a few minutes since Sam called.

You don't hear the sound of baby pulling into the garage, your head is too clouded as you were damn near about to wear a grove down into the old floors. The sound of a door shutting loudly and two sets of heavy footsteps are heard down the hallway. Spinning so quickly on your feet you nearly lose your balance you turn to face the noise. Watching as the brothers emerge from the dark hall, Dean's arm rests on Sam's shoulder almost using him like a human crutch. You let out a small gasp making them stop and both of their eyes snap up to yours, weather you gasped in surprise at the state of your boyfriend or in relief you can’t tell.

“Hi sweetheart, We’re home” Dean tilts his head, his voice laced with his usual sarcasm and deep tone. He pushes off of Sam, clearly able to at least stand on his own, slowly making his way over to you a small limp in his step.

In the blink of an eye you’re rushing into his arms, your soft hands grabbing ahold of his beaten up face and crashing your lips against his. He grunts out a “fuck” in surprise or pain the word dying in his throat turning into a noise as his eyes fall shut and he grabs ahold of your hips. With a sharp tug he pulls your body as close as he can to his, his hands sliding up your sides. His bloodied lips against your plush ones, kissing you like a man starved, a kiss you’ve come accustomed to when he comes home from longer hunts. “Missed you” he hums in a hushed tone into the kiss for only you to hear, making your racing heart only speed up. His blood flows into your opened mouth as the kiss goes on, the metallic taste on your tongue foreign but you were far too relieved he was back in one piece to care about the blood coating your tongue.

Any pain Dean felt after the whole ordeal and from the bumpy ride back to the bunker seemed to fade from his body. He could care less about his brother's presence still in the room or the blood still dripping from his face and that covered his clothes or his split lip. It felt as if all the bruises that were forming on his body were already being kissed away as your soft lips slid against his. The taste of your mouth overcoming the taste of the blood in his, your scent calming his body, reminding him he's finally home again. Your body grounding him.

A rough deep cough stops the moment making the two of you reluctantly pull away, lips swollen and parted as you catch your breath.

“Before this gets any more R-rated maybe we should patch him up and you know clean him up” Sam suggested with a small light hearted chuckle as he walks off to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. You were grateful you remembered just yesterday that it had needed to be restocked. “Sorry Sammy” Dean calls after him, you turn your head away and follow up with a “Sorry not sorry” down the hall after him making a small smirk grow on your boyfriend's face.

Once he's out of eye sight, Dean grabs ahold of your face by lightly squeezing your cheeks and turns your head back to face him. Leaning down to begin softly kissing you again, groaning against your lips when the pain in his body begins to return.

“Who needs a first aid kit, all i need is my girl's kisses” He mumbled softly against your mouth, making you break out into a smile. A small tear slips down your cheek, your breath returning to your lungs and the chill in your spine fading as relief finally settled over your body knowing he's okay.

→ a/n: if you enjoyed please reblog or send me some dean requests id love to write more for him!

[hopefullhearts]

Sickeningly Sweet [Scott Miller x Reader - Twisters]

summary: You are Tyler Owens' childhood best friend and member of his storm chasing crew. A storm outbreak means you and the gang cross paths with Storm Par on more than one occasion, and your sweet southern charm drives Scott crazy (in more than one way).

content warnings: somewhat heated kissing, no use of y/n, light name-calling/teasing, not proofread/bad writing (I have not written a fanfic in forever), bad taste in candy, & i think that is all!

word count: 3.5k

a/n: I have not written or posted on tumblr in SO long but I saw Twisters for the glenn powell craze and left with a scott/david corenswet obsession and these thoughts must come out of my head.

Shoutout to @hederasgarden and @sailor-aviator for leading the charge for the Scott girlies. All of their writings and drabbles inspired me to write this one, so check them out!

If people like this I might do a smutty part 2! I don't mind writing smut I just feel like it's not very good hahaha but let me know what you think!

--

You heavily resented the idea that guys and girls could not just be friends, because you'd be damned if Tyler Owens wasn't the best friend you ever had.

You met on the playground in Kindergarten. A boy pushed you off a swing, Tyler defended your honor, and the rest was history.

Tyler's overprotective streak made you view him like the brother you never had, and that's how your relationship remained. He was family, and that was that.

Tyler had always been interested in tornadoes, more specifically, how to track and predict them. You, on the other hand, hated science, including weather, but you loved the thrill of the chase.

In college, you studied marketing while Tyler studied meteorology. So, when Tyler had the idea to start streaming his storm chases, you were right there with him to help grow his brand.

Tyler knows he would be stupid not to credit you with all his success. You set up his streaming account, you edited all the clips and drone footage to post to his social media after the fact, and you even gave him the idea for the "Tornado Wrangler" nickname.

Now that everything was off the ground, you mostly put together streaming highlights and designed the merch, but you were right there in the backseat for every single chase, soaking up all the thrills.

This particular storm outbreak was expected to be a big one, so the whole crew strapped in for a week of bad weather, cheap motel rooms, and of course, a few run-ins with other chasers, including the guys from Storm Par.

"Storm Par's here." You said, gesturing to the fleet of white vans parked at the gas station you had just pulled up to.

"Of course they are." Tyler sighed. "There's probably going to be a lot of damage done by these storms for them to swoop in on. Just ignore them."

"No, we should be polite." You chastised him. "I'm gonna go say hi. Will you get me a cherry coke please?"

Tyler fought back an eye-roll, but nodded with a smile as you both got out of the car. "Of course."

Like everyone else in the crew, the Storm Par guys got on your last nerve. They were all a bunch of Ivy League grads who thought a more expensive degree made them better than everyone else.

However, being raised by your Mama, the epitome of Southern grace and charm, you always put a smile on your face and treated them with kindness. You even occasionally brought them food or coffee if you ran into them in the aftermath of a storm.

And even though you were blissfully unaware of the fact, this drove Scott absolutely mad.

"Hi Scott, Javi." You said cheerfully to the two boys in charge.

Scott replied with a grunt, but Javi was quick to greet you with genuine enthusiasm. "Hey! How are you?"

"I'm doing well." You nodded, smoothing your hands over your athleisure skirt. "Excited for a good chase today. How about you guys?"

"Us too." Javi nodded. "We're hoping to finally get some solid data collection today."

"Ah." You nodded, unsure what to say. You hated the idea of what they were collecting data for, but Javi seemed like a nice enough guy, and Tyler ripped on them enough for the both of you.

"Something on your mind there, princess?" Scott finally spoke, glancing away from his tablet to look down on you (literally and figuratively).

You rolled your eyes. While you would normally love to be called a princess, it always sounded like an insult coming from Scott, his voice always laced with a touch of venom.

"No, nothing at all." You smiled. "Just wondering if we'll see you guys in the aftermath if there's any damage done?"

"Why? Are you looking to increase your t-shirt sales?"

You bit your tongue, doing your best to hold your composure and not let him get to you.

"Nope, just trying to figure out if we need to make some extra to-go boxes for you guys." You decided to focus your gaze on Javi instead, finding him less intimidating.

Javi opened his mouth to speak, but Scott beat him to the punch. "I think we can find food on our own, thanks."

You took a deep breath, choosing your next words carefully. "Okay, well, the offer always stands if you change your mind."

Javi smiled and nodded. "As much as I want to see a good storm today, let's hope we don't have a ton of damage clean up."

You smiled. You knew he had a heart.

"That's something we both can agree on." You grinned. "Stay safe out there you guys!"

With that, you turned and walked away. Scott watched you go, your hair and skirt blowing side to side in the wind.

"Stay safe out there you guys." Scott mocked you under his breath.

"Yo, you don't always have to be a jerk to her, you know."

Scott gave him an unamused look. "She comes out here with her little boyfriend, selling his t-shirts and shit, and then skips over here like we're the best of friends with her thick southern accent. It's all fake."

"For one, I don't think Owens is her boyfriend." Javi corrected. "And two, I think she's just a genuinely nice person. She always says hello, even when everyone else in their crew ignores us like the plague."

"Whatever." Scott mumbled.

As you reached the truck, you took the ice-cold Coca-Cola bottle from Tyler's outstretched hand.

"Thank you!" You said excitedly, twisting the cap off to take a sip.

"How are dumb and dumber?" Tyler teased.

"Javi was nice." You informed him. "Scott was... there."

"Ah, yes." Tyler laughed. "Word on the street is he's a man of many words."

"Right." You agreed sarcastically. "But, when he does speak to me, he always calls me princess, and it drives me crazy."

"In what way?" Tyler said, failing to hold back a smirk.

It took you a moment to realize what he was implying, but when you did, you were mortified,

"Tyler Owens!" You gasped, your face flushing red with embarrassment.

""I'm just teasing you! You make it too easy." He laughed loudly. "In my defense, he looks like exactly like every boyfriend you've ever had."

Your face got even warmer, because he was exactly right. You had a weakness for tall, muscular, dark-haired men, and you especially loved a man who was a challenge.

"That is...irrelevant." You said, covering your face in your hands out of pure embarrassment.

Tyler held his hands up in surrender, as you rushed to talk about anything but Scott. "Let's just figure out what storm we're going after, you jerk." You insulted Tyler, but the smile on your face was ear to ear.

Scott watched the interaction from afar, and his chest twisted at your sickeningly sweet smile. Even if you weren't Owens' girlfriend, your closeness was evident. He ignored the burning feeling that was rising within him, not wanting to question why it was there in the first place.

Tornadoes were scary, but trying to understand how he felt about you? Terrifying.

"Alright, boss man, which storm are we chasing?" Javi pulled him out of his thoughts with a hand clapped on his shoulder, and he finally pulled his gaze away from your smile, the sound of your laughter fading into the background.

--

The storm was bad.

It hit a small town of about 3,000 people, and you estimated based on the initial damage scene that it was an EF3 at best, maybe even an EF4.

You were currently handing out anything that might be helpful to families who had been impacted by the tornado - blankets, water, heat lamps. pre-made sandwiches and cookies. You tried to offer them any comfort you could with a smile and hug, but you understood the devastation they felt all too well.

In the early days, you would try to help with the damage cleanup, but Tyler insisted that you stay back at the camper and talk to the families.

At first, you were insulted, and you thought that Tyler was insinuating you weren't strong enough to move heavy tree limbs or pieces of drywall. You finally asked him about it one day, and he laughed.

"Absolutely not!" He insisted. "You just have this energy around you that's calming, and these families need that. Your empathy and kindness are doing much more for them right now than cleaning up a bunch of rubble would."

You had never thought of it like that, but once Tyler pointed it out, it became your mission to be the solace that these families in crisis needed.

"Is there anything else we can do for you, Mrs. Smith?" You asked, rubbing the arms of a middle-aged woman who you had been speaking to for a few minutes now.

"No, thank you." She sniffled. "I really appreciate you guys being here. God bless you."

You smiled, giving her another hug. "Please let us know if there's anything more we can do to help."

She nodded, walking away to join her family, who were staring at the remains of their house.

You pushed back tears, feeling silly that this never got any easier for you, but also focused on being the anchor that these folks needed.

Scott saw you before you saw him. He watched you from afar as you did your work. He watched you force a smile and hold these people as they cried. He also watched you look up to blink back the tears before taking a deep breath and moving on to the next.

And damn if it didn't drive him nuts.

This job is easier when he doesn't get involved with the people impacted. It's easier to pretend not to care. But watching you pour your heart out to strangers, just because it's the right thing to do? It made his heart jump, and that scared him.

Ignoring the people involved and ignoring his feelings for you had become increasingly more difficult with every chase.

"Scott!" You called, approaching him with a styrofoam container in your hand.

He sighed, mentally preparing himself as you literally bounced over to him.

How the hell does someone look this good after taking on a tornado?

"Here." You offered him the container. "It's just a ham and cheese sandwich and a cookie."

"I'm really not hungry." He responded.

"Seriously?" You asked, not buying it. "We've all been chasing since 10 AM and it's nearly 8, you have to be hungry."

Scott shrugged, trying to hold back the things he really wanted to say.

"Fine." You sighed. "We're right over here if you change your mind."

"Yeah, I know princess. It's hard to miss you being the town's savior over there."

Scott watched you visibly retract and he internally screamed as his heart dropped. You probably hated him, but it didn't matter anyway. You were far too sweet for him, so putting a wedge between the two of you seemed to be the smartest way to outrun his feelings.

"Wow." You spoke, your voice much smaller and shakier than usual. "I knew you were sarcastic and maybe even a little mean, but I never thought you were actually cruel. So, thanks, for enlightening me."

And with that, you turned and strutted off. This time, you failed to fight back the tears as you returned to the camper.

And to your horror, Tyler was there, taking a break from clean up for some water.

When Tyler sees you cry, his overprotective streak comes out instantly, and right now you didn't want to be protected, because you were so embarrassed that he finally got to you. You were even more embarrassed that you thought that just maybe, he might be a good person under that scowl and hard facade.

"Hey, hey, hey, are you okay?" Tyler rushed up to meet you.

You nodded, trying to stop sniffling. "I'm fine."

Tyler looked behind you to see Scott watching you closely, with a look that almost mimicked longing, and he quickly put two and two together.

"Let me handle this." He insisted.

You shook your head in protest. "No, Tyler, please, he thinks I'm a waste of time anyways, it's not worth it."

"Trust me, he doesn't," Tyler reassured you. "Let me handle this, and if it goes badly, I'll edit all the stream highlights for the next two weeks, okay?"

"Deal." You nodded.

You truly did trust him more than anyone in your life, so you opted to go inside the camper and dry up your tears while he went to speak to Scott. You would let Tyler handle it, but no way were you going to stand there and watch, looking like a puppy who just got kicked.

"Coming to defend your girlfriend's honor?" Scott said sarcastically, trying to mask any emotion he was feeling.

"Dude, seriously." Tyler glared at him. "If you want her attention being a complete and total asshole is not the way you get it."

"Is that what you think? That I want her 'attention'?" He said, framing the last word in air quotes.

"Yeah, I do." Tyler nodded. "I saw the look you gave her as she walked away."

"Okay, so what?" Scott shrugged. "You might be surprised to know I am human and I didn't mean to make her cry."

"Sure." Tyler nodded. "So, what about all the other times I've caught you staring at her, hm?"

Scott stayed silent, stunned speechless.

"Ah, you thought you were better at hiding it, didn't you?" Tyler said with a smug grin. "Every time we end up at the same gas station, restaurant, bar, or motel, your eyes follow her nearly the whole time. And don't even get me started on the holes you burn into my head when I'm talking to her."

"Alright, fine." Scott snapped angrily. "Here to rub it in my face then?"

Tyler sighed in frustration. "No."

"Then what?"

"I'm going to give you a piece of advice."

"Why?" Scott scoffed. "It's no secret that we aren't friends."

"I know her better than anyone else, do you want my help or not?" Tyler asked, his patience nearing its limit.

Scott didn't protest this time.

"Look, no matter what I think about you, you're pretty much exactly her type," Tyler said, much to Scott's surprise. "So if you want her, apologize and tell her how you feel."

"She's not going to feel the same, and she deserves much better than me." Scott retorted. "C'mon Owens, you know what we do. When she comes floating into these broken towns like a heaven-sent angel, I'm collecting data for the devil."

"That doesn't have to be a permanent problem." Tyler pointed out. "Plus, she likes a challenge, and she's definitely brave enough to think she can fix you."

That cracked a smile from both of them, followed by a moment of silence.

"218." Tyler said.

"What?"

"That's the room she's staying in tonight." Tyler said, starting to walk away. "Apologize."

Scott nodded, beginning to formulate a plan on how the hell he was going to get you to forgive him.

--

You were snug under your blanket in the motel room watching reruns of Modern Family when the knock came.

You sighed and got up, not bothering to check the peephole as you assumed it was just Tyler coming to talk about the day's events.

So when you opened the door to see Scott standing there, you couldn't be more surprised.

"What are you doing here?" You said quietly, nearly breathless at the sight of him.

It wasn't the first time you had seen him outside of that stupid Storm Par white jumpsuit, but it was the first time you had seen him in gray sweatpants and a tight black long-sleeve shirt that clung to his muscles in a way that you could only describe as sinful.

He towered over you, leaning against the frame of the doorway, and you nearly shuddered when you looked up to meet the intense gaze in his eyes.

"I brought you something. As an apology for being an ass earlier today."

"Oh, and what did you bring for all the other times?" You spat back, no longer in the mood to play nice with him.

"I deserve that." He sighed. "Can I come in?"

"Depends." You responded, and he raised an eyebrow. "What did you bring me?"

He handed you a plastic bag, and you opened it to find a Cherry Coke, Sour Patch Kids, and a Honey Bun.

All of your favorites.

"How did you know what I like?" You asked, curious to know if Tyler was behind this.

"You always get some combination of the three at any local gas station." He shrugged.

He remembered because the first time he saw you buy all three he physically rolled his eyes, because, of course, you would buy snacks just as sickeningly sweet as you.

"I didn't know you paid this much attention to me." You said softly.

"Yeah." Scott inhaled a sharp breath. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Can I please come in?"

You opened the door, inviting him in with the gesture. The door shut behind you, and there was a brief moment of silence between you two.

"I'm sorry, for being a jerk today and every other time I'm around you." Scott started, visibly nervous as he ran a hand through his hair. "I wish I had a better explanation for why I've been such an ass."

"Yeah, so let's hear it." You said, hands on your hips. "Because I have been nothing but nice to you, even though I don't like who you work for and what they stand for."

"I know." He nodded. "At first, I thought you were being fake or sarcastic because it was unfathomable to me that you would be nice to us when you have absolutely no reason to be."

You nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"But once I learned more about you, and I realized you were being genuinely nice," Scott took a deep breath, building up all his courage. "It knocked me off my feet."

"What do you mean?" You asked, confused at what he was getting at

"I spend most of my time pretending that I don't care about the people that are devastated by all of this, because it's easier that way. But watching you bear your heart and soul to all of these people, just because you can?" Scott scoffed. "It makes it hard to pretend like I don't care about them, or more importantly, about you."

"You care about me?"

"I do." He nodded. "And I was a jerk to you because I thought it would be easier to make you hate me than it would be to admit that I have feelings for you, when you're far too good for me."

His admission stunned you. You can feel your heart thumping out of your chest as you look into his eyes, which look painstakingly vulnerable.

"I completely understand if you don't feel the same way, but I couldn't outrun these feelings anymore, and I wanted to at least let you know that I'm sorry."

The room fell silent as you processed everything he just told you. Scott was panicking inside, waiting for what felt like years for you to say something, anything.

"Do you know why I was always nice to you?" You asked him. "Because I was hoping that somewhere in there you had a good side. I needed to know that you had a heart before I could admit to myself that I felt drawn to you."

"Do you still? Feel drawn to me?"

You nodded. Stepping closer to him so that you were nearly face to face.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please." You nodded desperately, your words barely above a whisper.

His lips were on yours in a flash, and the pure intensity of the kiss nearly knocked you off your feet. It was heated and rough, but somehow gentle and passionate at the same time. His thumb grazed your cheek as he pulled you closer, and every spot his fingers touched made your skin feel like it was on fire. You couldn't get enough of him.

Once he knew you were comfortable, he took the liberty of exploring you more. His tongue slipped into your mouth gently and his teeth caught your bottom lip, causing a small whimper to come from the back of your throat.

Scott groaned at the sound, letting his mind imagine (not for the first time) all of the sounds he could pull from you.

When the two of you finally pulled away for air, he kept you close, his hands ghosting under your chin around your neck, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"You taste just as sweet as I thought you would," Scott said with a smirk.

"Shut up and kiss me again."

[angelicsoka]

DISAPPROVAL, t. owens

word count | 1.6k

pairings | tyler owens x fem!storm chaser!reader

summary | in which javi disapproves of his sister’s relationship

warnings | contains spoilers for the movie!! mentions of death, tornadoes, and panic attacks. brother-sister fighting, slight angst. one use of ‘y/n’. not proofread. lowercase intended. 

a/n | i literally can’t stop thinking about this movie. tyler owens x javi’s sister has me in a choke hold

you had never been the type to run from your fears, not now and definitely not five years ago. you used to storm chase with kate carter and your brother, javi, as well as three other of your friends. the six of you, led by kate, had come together to see if it was really possible to reduce the intensity of a tornado. you knew that the experiment would be dangerous, but it had never fully occurred to you that you or anyone else could die. that was a mistake you swore you would never make again. 

five years had passed and you still were waking up, sweating and shaking from the horrid night where you lost three of your closest friends. you shakily tore the covers from your body, walking quietly to the bathroom so as to not wake the sleeping body still in bed. you closed the door to the bathroom before turning on the light. you turned the sink on, splashing water on your face as a sigh escaped your mouth. you gripped the sides of the sink, attempting to center yourself. “fuck.”

“babe, you in there?” you jumped when tyler knocked on the door, your breathing quickening once more. “babe?” tyler turned the door knob, pushing it up to see you slowly sliding down the wall as you began to hyperventilate. he rushed to your side, which wasn't far in the cramped bathroom. he helped you to the floor, sitting in front of you. “hey, hey, let's just sit down. just breathe with me, okay?” you nodded, following tyler in his exaggerated breathing, feeling as your heart rate began to slow down. “you’re okay, you’re safe.” you nodded, finally noticing the tears streaming down your face.

“sorry, ty, i didn’t mean to wake you.” you apologized through sniffles, wiping at your nose. 

“you didn’t wake me. plus, i just wanted to make sure you were okay.” you still felt guilty about it, about him constantly dealing with your nightmares and panic attacks. you felt guilty that you still pushed yourself to storm chase even though you are terrified of losing the ones you love most. you knew you shouldn’t push that guilt or fear away, but there was another part of you that just wanted to help people. “why don’t we go get some breakfast?” tyler helped you to your feet, the two of you trudging over to the diner across from the motel. 

breakfast had been mostly silent, tyler trying to start a conversation but you were too stuck in your head. your knee anxiously bounced as you realized you would be heading to oklahoma, and that you were more than likely to run into your brother javi. you had talked to javi a lot over the phone, but it had been at least a year since you had last seen him in person. he’d been begging you for a few weeks now to leave tyler and the wranglers behind and to join his crew and help with a new tornado scanning system. you knew javi just wanted to help people, but the people funding his projects did not have the same interests at heart. “you ready?” you looked, not hardly having touched your food, accepting tyler’s extended hand. “boone’s getting pretty antsy about leavin’. dude’s been blowing up my phone for like the last thirty minutes.” you giggled when tyler showed you his phone with nearly fifty texts from boone.

“i’m surprised he’s even up, let alone ready to hit the road.” tyler tossed an arm over your shoulders, placing a delicate kiss on your temple as you walked back to the motel.

“yeah, well, best not to keep the man waiting.” tyler went to grab your stuff from the motel room before checking out, leaving you to rig up the gps. 

“boone! you ridin’ with us?” you shouted over to boone who was talking with dexter, dani, and lily. “we’ve got a seat open for you as well, ben.” you smiled to the journalist, who thought you to be the only sane one of the group. ben smiled at you, his body language showing he was clearly uneasy. “don’t worry, the ride to oklahoma shouldn’t be too bad.”

“it's not that ride that i’m worried about.” before you could question him, boone hopped in beside him, tyler entering the driver’s seat not a moment later. 

“let’s ride!” boone whooped, tyler tearing out of the parking lot. you couldn’t seem to find it in yourself to be hyped up like your boyfriend and friend, too anxious about seeing your brother. he had already disapproved of you riding with the wranglers, you couldn’t imagine how he’d react when he found out you were dating tyler owens of all people.

at some point during the ride, you had fallen asleep only to be startled awake by boone, camera in hand as he yelled out the truck. “sorry, babe.” tyler quietly apologized to you, squeezing your hand. you squinted out the window, your stomach dropping at the sight of javi and kate, stood side by side. all the shouting and cheering seemed to be muted when your eyes locked with javi’s. even though you were nervous, the sight of your big brother brought a soft smile to your face. 

tyler put the truck in park, the crowd surrounding them. you pushed the door open, hopping down as tyler got the crowd chanting. boone was walking around, filming, while dani, lily, and dexter began to sell the merchandise. you stood off to the side, watching tyler do his thing, a smile gracing your lips. you looked around, catching kate’s eye, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her friend. she walked over to you, engulfing you in a hug before you had time to say anything. “kate! i wasn’t expecting to see you here!” you laughed, gripping kate tightly. 

“i didn’t realize you were still chasing, i thought you would at least be riding with javi.” you tensed slightly at your brother’s name, pulling back from kate’s arms. 

“uh, yeah, i’ve just decided to ride with the wranglers this season.” your tenseness didn’t go unnoticed by kate, but before she could ask you anything your attention was brought to your brother waltzing over. “javi!” your nerves dissipated when javi threw his arms around you, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

“i’ve missed you, sis.” you let out a sigh, trying not to let the tears well in your eyes.

“i’ve missed you too, javi.” you pulled back, now seeing your crew watching you. the crowd had mostly left, and the sight of you hugging a man that wasn’t tyler had them concerned. “why don’t you come meet my crew?” you knew javi had no interest in meeting your crew, but you wanted him to see they weren’t just daredevils with a need for a thrill. “hey, guys, i want you to meet my brother, javi, and my good friend, kate!” everyone but boone and tyler had come to meet them. “javi, kate, meet dexter, lily, and dani! oh, and ben! he’s a london journalist writing a piece on american storm chasing.” you pointed to each member, getting soft ‘hellos’ and ‘nice to meet yous’. 

“nice to meet you guys!” kate smiled, javi not saying anything. you felt a pang in your heart when javi didn’t seem to take the people you considered to be some of your closest friends. 

“well, who do we have here?” you turned to see tyler and boone walking toward you, a large smile breaking out on your face. “you must be javi, and… kate, right?” kate nodded, shaking tyler’s hand.

“kate, javi, this is boone, and this is tyler owens.” tyler walked to your side, slinging an arm loosely around your shoulder while boone waved, going to put the camera back into the truck. “nice to meet you both.” he tipped his hat to the two. you watched javi closely, he practically had steam coming out his ears at the sight of tyler’s arms around your shoulder. javi had always been overprotective, and you wished he would realize you can hold your own. “we’re headin’ out in a few, ‘kay?” you nodded, tyler pressing a kiss to your temple before jogging over to boone. you looked back to javi who was red in the face, and kate who was clearly shocked.

“javi–” you started, javi pulling you to a quiet spot away from everyone else.

“really? tyler owens?” he spat out tyler’s name like it was venom. “c’mon y/n, he’s an idiot who drives into tornadoes! he doesn’t give a shit about anyone, especially those affected by said tornadoes!” tears welled in your eyes, anger bottling up. 

“oh, and you do? javi! your investors don’t give any shits about these people! they only care about the money! and you, you’re helping them by getting this data!” you wiped at the tears that spilled over, “we help people, javi! we sell the merch to pay for the supplies, and the revenue we make off the streams and videos go to families in need. we just don’t show that part on the internet.” it seemed to dawn on javi that you would have never ridden with the wranglers for as long as you had if you weren’t helping people. “tyler treats me well, and maybe you’d have seen that if you weren't so busy making assumptions about him.” you spat at him before turning on your heel, walking toward the truck, actively ignoring javi’s shouting. 

“you okay?” tyler asked, noticing your rosy cheeks. “want me to beat his ass?” you glared at him, a smile tugging at your lips. tyler was mostly all bark and no bite.

“no, he just needs time.” you reached up, kissing tyler before taking his hand in yours and walking back to the truck. javi watched as tyler opened your door and helped you in, watching tyler stare lovingly at you. and javi knew that he had fucked up.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Stability

subby!emo!Wanda Maximoff x AMAB!Super soldier!reader

Summary: You are a member of the Avengers, a super soldier, and when Wanda Maximoff joins after losing her brother in Sokovia you see the broken girl before you and vow to pick up the pieces and keep her together.

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R has a penis, first time s*x, nipple play, R keeps W on a schedule.

A/N: I wrote this sleep deprived at 7am with the help of @vcdanvers

You provide a stability to Wanda's life that she's never had before. You help keep her in a routine. Wake up, brush teeth, get dressed for training, have breakfast, train, shower, lunch, studying, dinner, down time, brush teeth, meds, bed time. 

You keep her to that routine most days and when she starts having an off day you dim the lights, make a comfy nest in the bed with blankets, pillows, snacks, and drinks. You watch her favorite shows and movies. 

You don't think much about the responsibility you've taken on until you have to leave for a mission and Wanda spirals from the lack of support from you. Though she knows the routine and goes through it, it doesn't feel right without you by her side. Your phone is blown up by her texts and calls and you'd wish this mission would end quickly. 

“How’s she doing?” Nat asks as she makes her way beside you on the bed. The small shitty motel room you two were hiding out in for the mission was stuffy. 

“I think she’s spiraling a bit.” You show Nat your phone, her eyebrows raising. 

“Think? She basically fully relies on you for everything during her days now. She’s a lost puppy. You bring stability to her life and now you aren’t there. I’m surprised she’s actually doing everything.” You bite your bottom lip, letting it fall between your teeth. 

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about her lying about doing everything. If I don’t remind her of her meds and help her with her makeup she usually forgets.” Nat knew just how important the meds were that Wanda had been prescribed. 

“She relies on you, but I’m sure she’ll be fine. Few more days and we’ll be back home. A few days isn’t going to kill her.” You nodded in agreement as you sunk down into the rough mattress and not fluffed pillows. 

=======

When the quintet lands at the compound you don't even make it off ramp when she tackles into you, knocking you down, but you don't mind a few more bruises. You go to speak, but you're cut off when her lips crash into yours. Instinctively you're pulling her closer, flush against you.

As Nat walks by out of the jet she chuckles, shaking her head, “Tony owes me $1,000.” 

You break the kiss, laughing a bit at the comment from your best friend. Looking at Wanda, a flush on her face and neck makes you smile softly. A hand cupping her cheek that she leans into. You smile softly, leaning in to give her another kiss before lifting the two of you up. “Come on, let's talk about this in our room.” 

Wanda simply nods letting you lead the way. On the way you ask what she's done today, knowing what should have been done and she tells you like she had everyday with her constant updates. She had told you already, seven texts letting you know she had gone through her routine. She would have been studying now if not for your sudden arrival.

Walking into your room smelled distinctly of Wanda, you'd been gone long enough that it was noticeable as soon as you walked in, cherry blossoms. You closed the door, locking it. “Friday. Soundproof the room please and do not disturb mode on.” You called out to the AI of the compound. 

Once you got confirmation your attention was on the brunette. Admiring the face you'd missed so much. Taking in the little details her smudged eyeliner made her look more like a raccoon and you knew she'd fallen asleep with it on more than once without you here. Her lips slightly darkened by the tinted chapstick she uses. Her green eyes sparkling like sea glass under the summer sun. 

You took notice of her nervous habits, pulling at the sleeves of her (your) sweatshirt to pull over her hands, fiddling her fingers back and forth, the very subtle lip bite, and how she was too nervous to look you in the eyes. 

You take a step forward, softly smiling as you cup her cheeks and pick her head up to meet your gaze. “I've wanted that for a long time. I just never wanted to push you or make you uncomfortable.” You knew her wounds were still fresh from Sokovia and you didn't want to take advantage of that. You only ever wanted to be here for her. 

“I didn't realize just what you meant to me until you weren't here…it felt like I lost you while you were away and I know I shouldn't need you, but I do. I crave what you provide everyday and I–I need you Y/N. I don't know what I'd do without you. I felt like a zombie without you here.” You took in each word and the inflection in her voice pitched up with each passing second. You could hear the cracking in her words that cracked your heart. 

You held her tightly, pulling her against you. She fit like a puzzle piece. Her arms wrapping around your waist. You kissed the top of her head. “All I want is you, Wands. I want to care for you, I want to love you, I want to be with you.” You could feel your heart flutter at your own words  but even more so at her response.

“That's all I want. Just want you. Want to just be yours.” You felt her pull back, looking up at you. A smile forming on your lips as you lean down for a proper kiss, soft, slow. Your lips moved against one another and you could feel the heat of her magic against your skin. You smile into the kiss, pulling back just enough to whisper, “Someone's excited.” 

Her face burying against your neck as the heat dissipates. She mumbles something and you chuckle, picking her up like you've a hundred times before and she clings onto you. 

She'd only ever clung like this when she'd fallen asleep during team movie nights. You'd carry her back to bed just like this, legs wrapped around your waist, arms around your shoulders, and face buried against your neck. 

You take her to your shared bed and sit at the edge. You aren't expecting it but she grinds her hips against you. A moan crawling up your throat and you feel yourself twitch. Wanda knew already, how could she not? You sleep in your boxer briefs and a sports bra. Most mornings you wake up at half mast. 

She moves faster against you, it's still slow, but you can tell just how needy she is. You're hyper aware even of her. Every roll of her hips and the growing bulge straining against your sweats you had changed into on the jet. 

A soft needy moan comes out of her and that's when you feel it, she's soaking you entirely. A wet spot forming right on your bulge. A deep groan makes its way out of you. 

You can't stand it anymore and flip her onto her back in one single motion. You pull your hard cock out of its confines. You don't bother taking anything off her at this moment. You push her soaked panties to the side. Pushing into her, both of you moaning out at the feeling as you slowly sink inside of her. She takes you beautifully as you bottom out in her. You breathe deeply as you look at her face completely red as you lean down kissing her before starting to pull the sweatshirt and then her shirt. 

You take in her pale skin and the light dusting of freckles, leaning down to take her breast in your mouth, the other with your hand as you slowly move your hips. Your actions elicit soft moans, breathy pleas falling from her lips, and mumbles of Sokovian words. It only eggs you on as you move faster, flicking your tongue against her hard nipple, the other getting twisted gently between your thumb and forefinger. 

You feel her nails claw down your back and sides. You know her nail polish must be ruined from it. You're sure her marks will look lovely with the array of bruises on your back. 

“Ah…feels s'good feels– Ah–” you feel her tighten up around you, finally letting her breast go. Moving yourself up to capture her lips and swallow her moans. You know she won't last much longer as you speed up, setting a brutal pace. Feeling your own orgasm build up. 

“Fuck..I'm gonna cum.” You whisper against her. She tightens at your words.

“Me too–Ah please please need this!” Her pleas were more than enough as you thrust deep, filling her up as she vice grips around you, practically screaming as she cups and you are so thankful for telling Friday to soundproof.

A few hours and a few rounds later you've cleaned Wanda up, showered with her and now lay on the bed, soft kisses as a sitcom plays in the background. You couldn't think of a more perfect place to be than right here with her. 

[sleepyangelkami]

COSTUME s.winchester

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 3.4K

SAM WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 A/N - this is my first ever time writing about sucking dick, please be nice to me, i'll cry.

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - you had to dress up as an FBI agent with the winchester brothers. you felt stupid in a costume but luckily for you, sam really liked seeing you in a skirt.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, dom!sam, sub!reader, oral(s!rec), no p!v sex, size kink, praise kink, fingering, slight manipulation, reader lowk flexible, cum eating, messy sex, squirting, (1) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

"come on, y/n, we gotta go!" you heard dean's not so gentle knock against the bathroom door as you slipped on your last mary jane shoe.

you weren't usually chosen for tasks like this.

usually, it was the winchester boys that did all this kind of thing, you know, fraud? you were usually just the researcher, sitting in the motel room as back up, with a laptop perched on your lap or sitting in baby, the key inside and waiting to be their getaway car.

you weren't really hands on when it came to being a hunter.

you never really had to go out into the real world for much. but this particular demon was snatching girls, twenty something year old girls about your age and appearance. the brothers thought it would be best if another girl accompanied them when investigating the missing girls' roomates and not two six-foot men dressed in suits.

dean's head turned as the creaky bathroom door opened. "I feel stupid."

his eyebrows raised to the tips of his forehead, a look of shock passing over him as he cleared his throat with a breathy laugh. "wait 'til sammy sees you." you just gave him a confused look before grabbing the pretty pink purse that sat on the bed. "aah-ah." you look up at dean confused. "kind of ruins the whole FBI vibe, don't you think?"

you eyed the purse in your hands.

it was a little bag, hardly able to hold anything other than your phone and your lipgloss, not that you ever had to worry about holding your wallet when you had the boys around but nonetheless, a card was wedged in there too.

it was pink with darker pink flowers on it and a ribbon attached to the strap. sam had gotten it for you after a case that you worked particularly hard on.

but dean was right, it didn't fit the whole 'FBI vibe' so you sighed and placed it back on the bed, passing the man an unhappy glance.

sam was outside, sitting in the passenger seat of the infamous impala named 'baby' by dean. he'd packed and started the car, waiting for the two of you when you caught his eye.

or should he say, your outfit.

you often wore pretty little sundresses or blouses and skirts paired together with a pretty cardigan drawn over you. but this? This seemed awfully different to your usual attire.

the white blouse was a little too low for comfort and he could tell by the way you were pulling it up over your cleavage that you agreed. your black pencil skirt was high, too high with a pair of long black stockings that stopped just above your knees paired with the infamous mary janes that you wore with almost everything.

sam was staring.

"what are you wearing?" was the first thing he asked when you and dean got into the car. "what is she wearing?" he turned back to dean.

you owned the stockings and the mary janes before hand but the rest of the outfit? it'd been dean's job to pick it out (which was no wonder you looked like... that.) "dude, she has to play the part."

"yeah of an FBI agent not some sexy stripper cop." sam spoke, exasperated.

"thank you!" you beamed from the back seat before your eyes furrowed. perhaps your boyfriend hadn't been complimenting you at all.

sam passed you a glance through the mirror but was more focused on blaming his brother. how could he let you go out looking like that for everyone to see? how could he make sam watch you while his pants tightened and his bulge was on show?

you thought the interviews went smoothly. you sat down with most of the women. the college women who's roomates had gone missing. dean was too busy fraternizing with the college girls to care about the case anymore and sam... well sam had seemed a little distracted from the beginning.

he couldn't rip his eyes away from you. you sat so perfectly, pieces of hair falling into your face as you nodded and sympathised with the women, asking them questions and jotting down notes onto a little notepad you had found in the backseat of baby.

sam was staring at you, at the way he could see the outline of your boobs down your shirt or the way your plush thighs protruded from the fabric of your stockings.

he was in awe.

it was hard to focus on anything other than you, which is why he had to excuse himself to talk to the headmaster instead of being stuck in a room with you, too close.

he was your boyfriend, it wasn't as if you hadn't done things with him before. on the contrary, you did... many things with sam before. but this was borderline unprofessional, the way he let his thoughts run.

he could imagine sliding his hands beneath your skirt or listening to your little gasps when he touched your skin, barely grazing it. you were so easily led like that, so audible and obedient. he could imagine unbuttoning your shirt slowly, with you sat on his lap while whines fell from your lips, whimpers following shortly after.

he needed to stop thinking.

or better yet, he needed to fuck you until the thoughts stopped.

dean decided he was going to check out the last spot that the college girl had been taken, assuring you both that he wouldn't be back before dinner. but the wink he shot his younger brother told him that he was merely giving you both alone time because he was no stranger to the look in sam's eyes.

and this was when sam got selfish.

honestly, the motel wasn't that far from the college so you and sam opted to walk back. the air turned brisk and for a split second, sam was about to offer you his jacket, the way he always would.

he thought it was rather adorable, watching the way you nuzzled into the jacket that was far too big for your frame. he was six foot five after all, you drowned in anything he let you wear.

but he found himself feeling selfish. he selfishly liked the way your perky breasts looked in that pretty blouse and the way your plush thighs could be seen peeking out from between the skirt and the stockings. he couldn't stop looking, couldn't tear his eyes away and stop his imagination from roaming.

so he let you walk back to the hotel, keeping a slight distance behind you so he could watch your body as he pleased, the only sound between you two being the click-clop of your mary jane heels as you walked home.

when you finally got inside, you felt yourself sigh in thought.

sam had been acting awfully quiet since you'd left and you'd begun to worry that you'd done something to upset him.

perhaps the outfit was too revealing, perhaps he wasn't okay with it.

you turned, an apology already on the tip of your lips. "sam―"

before you could utter the words, sam had grabbed you. his lips pushed into your own, a kiss filled with no passion or love, you could taste nothing aside from thick hunger, half a growl from inside his throat.

you whimpered into the kiss, taken by surprise. you felt him grab at you, one hand slid up your back, the other grabbing the back of your head and a fistful of hair along with it. again, a noise escaped you while sam was mindlessly kicking off his shoes, guiding you towards the bed.

to say you were surprised was saying the least, you hadn't expected this.

when he sat you gently against the bed, he finally broke the kiss. you looked up at him with glassy eyes and swollen lips while he tugged his suit jacket off, not bothering to take off his tie completely but only loosen it so it didn't hang so close to his neck. perhaps now he could finally breathe.

your eyes followed him curiously as he bent down, eyes never leaving yours while you stayed sitting on the mattress. you felt his hands pawing at your legs, slipping your mary janes from your feet. his hands gently rubbed at your sock-covered feet, a little reminder of his gentleness, despite the roughness he was suddenly using on you.

his fingers trailed upwards, following the little sewing thread between the fabric of your stockings. when his hands reached the top, he snapped the fabric back, leaving it snap against your thighs. "you're keeping these on." he uttered, he didn't sound like he normally did. he sounded as if he were pent up, desperate for relief. and he was.

you just couldn't seem to understand why.

"sam, why are you―"

you were cut off. "you're jus' so pretty all dressed up, honey." sam was towering over you as he stood, his large hand falling on your face, practically taking up a whole cheek as he cupped it. "'n i was hard all day thinkin' about this. you do wanna make me feel good, don't you, sweetheart?"

he watched as your eyes seemingly got rounder. "i wanna make you feel good, sammy." you caught your bottom lip between your top teeth and he could tell you were being honest, so honest.

willing to do anything to make him feel good, his sweet sweet girl. he would have cooed at you had he not been busy using his thumb to pull your bottom lip from beneath your top teeth. "don't do that, baby." he watched as you nodded silently. "good girl, i'll give you something to wrap those pretty lips around, don't worry."

he could see your face slowly building a flush, that kind of blush that had him reeling. he liked when he got you like this, all flustered and squirming. which you were, squirming in your seat with your thighs pushing together.

sam was well aware that if he were to reach up your skirt now, he would find a little wet circle sitting on your satin panties.

but instead, he used his hands to pull his own trousers from him. they were sitting tightly on his hips and when he finally pulled them down, you could see his bulge sticking out from his black boxers.

you gulped, hands playing together in your lap. you wanted to look back up at sam but you couldn't seem to tear your eyes away from him, too engrossed by his dick to think of anything else.

"'s how i felt all day, sweetheart." his voice was a whisper now. "you were teasin' me 'n i couldn't do anything about it. do you know how mean that is?"

your eyes snapped up to his, filling with this red glassiness. "w-what?" you didn't want to be mean to sam. he was so good to you, always making you feel good, you wanted nothing more than to be good to him. "'m sorry sammy, 'm really sorry."

"awh, i know, baby." his thumb swiped against your cheek, playing around with your face as if you were dough, thumb dragging across your bottom lip. "you just wanna be my good girl, yeah?"

you nodded quickly. "mmhm, wanna be your good girl, sammy, 'm sorry. 'm really sorry."

"i don't know, you were very bad today." his constant teasing as only making your panties wetter, that tone he was using on you, the one that he knew got you all flustered. "if i give you a second chance, are you gonna be good?"

"uh-huh, 'be so good, sammy, i promise. please, ill be good." you were begging now, eyes as big as saucers and lips wet.

he didn't bother pretending to think about it, he just leaned down, so far that his face was in line with yours, lips against your ear as he softly whispered the words, "then get onto your knee's 'n show me."

when sam winchester told you to do something, you did it, no questions asked.

you'd touched him like this many times before, you on your hands and knees on the mattress while he stood on the ground. he thought it was the most comfortable spot for the both of you, seeing as he was so big.

you did as you were told, moving so you were on your hands and knees against the mattress. your hands moved up to his waist, eyes snapping to his. he watched you intently as you brought your lips to his clothed cock, pressing a pretty kiss against it before using your fingers to pull down his underwear.

you did it without fail every single time.

every time he had you on your knees with his cock in your mouth, you started off with that pretty kiss to his boxers. there was something sickly sweet about it that had his eyes already rolling backwards. it was almost an innocent and naive act of love towards him, laced with lust.

you were on just your knees now, pushing his boxers down with no help from him. his dick sprung free and you could see an idle line of precum dripping down his shaft. instinctively, your hand moved up, thumb swiping the precum and smoothing it over the head of his dick. the act alone caused a grunt to leave his lips.

as pretty as you looked, all curious and ready to take your time, sam simply wasn't having it tonight.

he was too pent up from your silly outfit and his own mindless thoughts that he couldn't help it.

his hand fell to the side of your head, cupping it as he guided it forward. you knew what he was asking and you wasted no time in sticking out your tongue and licking a kitten lick up his shaft.

"fuck," fell from his lips. "good girl." mumbling as your tongue swirled over his head and your mouth wrapped around his dick. sam was a huge man and his dick was no exception to that. he was huge, too big to fit in your mouth but you pushed him in anyway, only covering a little more than half.

sam knew he was big too, he couldn't help the quirk of his lips as he looked down at you, struggling to fit his size into your mouth. his hand slowly guided your head further onto his cock, letting your lips wrap around him completely, your saliva coating him. it wasn't until you gagged that he knew this was as far as you could go.

so he pushed you a little further, anyway.

you brought your head back out then in again, bobbing it as you tongue swirled against him. you were no stranger to sucking sam off but every time you did it, you found yourself getting nervous. you wanted to be good for him and you were doing your upmost best.

his pretty thing.

"fuck, baby, you're doin' so good f'me." and sam knew exactly what effect his words would have on you. "mmph, look so pretty with your lips around my dick, sweetheart."

you couldn't help but moan on his dick.

and his lips quirked into that sickly sweet smile.

he knew how easily you got wet, how all it took was just a few words and you were a moaning, whining mess. sam thought you deserved a little more for all you were giving him than just a little praise.

and like said before, sam was huge so he reached over, his torso towering a little above your head and his arm reached out, soothing down your lower back.

this wasn't the first time sam had pulled something like this. you knew what to do, stomach sinking onto the bed as you rolled your ass into nothingness, wanting to create some kind of friction while your mouth continued to slowly melt around him, licking and sucking, eyes closed as one hand pumped the part of his dick that your mouth couldn't reach.

you felt his fingers tracing the outline of your satin underwear, pulling up your skirt so he could gain access.

you made a noise of complaint, knowing that if he touched you, you wouldn't be able to focus properly on touching him. sam only used his free hand to push your head onto his dick and make you gag again.

he liked watching you fall apart, especially with his dick stuffed in your mouth.

he loved watching the way your body had to bend for him to be able to stick his fingers into your gaping whole, watching as you desperately rolled your hips, wanting him him him. you wanted to feel him. taste him. smell him. he was all consuming, you wanted him to take over your every sense.

and he always did, without complaint.

you were wet, undeniably so, he could feel it through the satin material that he pulled back, getting access to your aching pussy. "there you go, sweetheart, tha's it." while easing two fingers into your hole.

you felt like a slut.

he had you completely and utterly full.

"'s that nice, baby? y'feel so warm." both with your mouth against his dick and your soaking wet hole. "you're so pretty for me, you know that, angel?"

he knew you couldn't respond, only whining and whimpering against his throbbing cock. "you're my good girl, aren't you?" he felt you whine, vibrations spreading through him and he also felt your pussy squeeze against his fingers. he grinned at that. "you like that, honey? like thinkin' about how you're my good girl, yeah? all mine, baby, you're all mine."

and you really were. before sam, you wouldn't look at a boy sideways let alone be like this.

you groaned into him, ass rolling against his fingers while your own free hand moved down. you continued sucking his dick while using your nimble fingers to play with your clit.

and that was enough for sam to let out a moan. "oh, baby, you look so pretty playing with yourself while―shit―sucking my cock."

your eyes rolled back, feeling of pleasure coating you while your soft lips bobbed up and down, fingers tracing him and yourself.

"'m gonna cum, sweetheart." a warning, though he knew you wouldn't move anyway. "you gonna be a good girl 'n cum on my fingers while you suck my cock, huh, baby?"

he felt you absentmindedly nod, too fucked out to think straight while feeling a familiar knot deep in your stomach.

your whines got louder and he felt himself nearing the edge. the sight of you, blissed out while sucking his cock, his fingers stuffed into your hole making you feel all full... he couldn't help but let go.

at the same time, he felt your gummy walls clenching around his fingers, wet juices sliding down his hand while spurts of squirt left your pussy every time his fingers pumped in and out of you, riding out your high.

"good girl, good girl. that's it, baby. oh fuck. yeah, my good girl. there you go." he was in awe, watching you squirt around his fingers, the wet feeling as it spurted out from your pussy, decorating the bedsheets in your juices while your pretty socks got ruined in the mess.

when he finally finished, he pulled his fingers out of you, letting you lean back as you parted your lips to show him his cum all over your tongue, spread messily in your mouth.

his hand was on your face, eyes strained on your mouth as he watched you close your lips and swallow like the good girl you were, swiping his thumb against your bottom lip.

he pushed his two fingers into your mouth, letting you taste yourself. while your eyes rolled back, all fucked out and dumb.

"think we have some time before dean gets back, yeah?" eyes already scanning your body and letting his imagination get the better of him.

he just watched your blissed out face nod, cheeks flushed. "mmhm hmph."

he wasn't done with you just yet.

main masterlist/sam's masterlist

[fearcvlt]

❝call me, beep me❞

pairing. sam winchester x fem!reader note. first fic on this account whaaaat. also my first time writing for spn... you guys don't understand how normal i am about this man. hope you enjoy! rbs/feedback is highly appreciated!! tags. nsfw, mdni. season one!sam. no use of y/n. improper use of dean's car. masturbation. phone sex. dirty talk. soft dom!sam. praise kink. needy sam. established relationship. 1.5k words.

Sam is losing his goddamn mind.

He isn’t used to being away from you for this long. The two of you had been living together for months when Dean showed up to the apartment just off campus, and even before you moved in together Sam had spent most of his free time in your dorm room. Sam had no intentions of following after his brother — he was perfectly content here at Stanford. With you.

But then Dean had mentioned their dad, and he could hardly refuse. He thought it would be a quick job. He had every intention of making it back to college for his interview, but he missed it. This is exactly what he came to Stanford to get away from — the constant nights on the road. Moving city to city hunting monsters. The shitty motel rooms.

He’d found an escape with you. A refuge. Without it, he felt like he was going crazy. He’d give anything just to be able to be close to you again. To kiss you and feel your body against his. Sam misses you. Probably to an unhealthy extent. He spends most nights thinking about you, calling you or shooting a text whenever he has the spare time.

It isn’t enough. Being stuck rooming with Dean again is starting to grate on Sam’s nerves. He’s pent up and frustrated, and it’s starting to affect his concentration. If he ends up dying on a hunt because he hasn’t been able to jack off, he thinks the embarrassment will resurrect him just so he can die all over again.

Basically, what he’s trying to say is it isn’t exactly his proudest moment as he waits for Dean to fall asleep before stealing the keys to his Impala. His brother would absolutely kill him if he knew what he was about to do to his baby, but Sam can’t say he particularly cares at this moment.

The cold, late night air bites at his skin as he sneaks out of the motel room, unlocking the car before settling in the passenger seat. His eyes nervously examine the parking lot three times over to make sure no one’s around before he shuts the door, dialling your number. He bites anxiously at his fingernails as he listens to the phone ring out, a shaky exhale leaving him when you finally answer.

“Hey, baby. Sorry it’s late. I didn’t wake you, right?” Sam breathes down the receiver, letting his head fall back against the leather seat.

“Mhm, yeah. S’okay.” You respond sleepily, a soft yawn reaching his ears. He can’t help but smile at the sound. God, he misses you so bad it hurts.

“Sorry, honey, sorry. I just missed you, y’know. Needed to hear you.” He murmurs, his hand sliding down his torso slowly before he reaches the front of his jeans. He gives his half-hard cock a squeeze. God, he was already so needy just from thinking about you in the motel room. He supposes he should feel guilty for waking you just to get off, but with the way his blood is rushing from his head downwards, he can hardly think at all.

“Yeah, well. I miss you, too. You were meant to be back last week.” You huff. Fuck Sam can practically hear the pout in your voice. Imagining your lips is really not helping. His dick twitches uselessly against his pants, and he’s unable to suppress the soft whine that builds in his throat.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. Gonna be coming back to you as soon as everything gets wrapped up here. I promise, baby.” He lets out a shaky sigh, lashes fluttering as he props his phone between his shoulder and his cheek. “Can you do something for me?”

“Yeah, ‘course. What’s up?”

“Been thinking about you non-stop, sweet girl. ‘M so hard for you,” Sam hears the sharp intake of breath you take in from his words, which is enough incentive for him to continue. He manages to fumble with his jeans enough to get them unzipped and halfway down his thighs along with his boxers, one hand palming his aching cock as his free hand comes up to hold his phone again. “Want you to touch yourself, baby. Gotta hear you.”

“Sammy,” you breathe, voice low and airy as it reaches his ears. Fuck, he usually hates it when people call him that, but he’s convinced its going to be replaying in his mind on a loop for the foreseeable future. There’s a shuffling of fabric down the line, and then a shaky moan as he assumes your hand slides between your thighs.

“That’s it, good girl.” Sam purrs, long fingers wrapping around his length as a soft groan spills past his lips. His hips twitch, rocking desperately into the tight grip as he starts to stroke himself slowly. “Come on, baby. Talk to me. How’s it feel?”

“Good,” you reply instantly, the slick sounds of your fingers delving into your cunt barely audible in the background. Fuck, he wishes he was there. He can imagine you laid out all pretty for him on the bed, legs spread with your pretty pussy bared for him. He’s going to ruin you when he sees you next. “Feels so good, baby.”

“Mhm, sounds like it.” He murmurs, his thumb swirling over his tip to spread the steadily leaking pre-cum, slicking him up with each shallow pump of his fist. “Bet it’d be even better with me there, huh? I’d make you feel so fucking good, honey. I’d lick you out until you were begging for me… fuuuck, you’d make the prettiest sounds.”

Sam moans, face scrunching up with pleasure as he fucks into his fist faster, tightening his grip around his cock. “Eat that sweet little cunt out until you creamed all over my tongue, get you nice ‘n ready for me. Would you like that, baby?”

“Yeah. Fuck, oh my God. Yeah, Sam.”

“Yeah? Fuck, baby. Gonna come back to you soon, promise.” He says with a shaky gasp, pumping his hand steadily until he’s dripping pre-cum like a faucet. He can’t remember the last time he was this needy. “Gonna press you into the mattress, fuck into you so deep you feel it for weeks. Won’t even let you forget how I feel when I’m halfway across the city; gonna mould that pretty pussy into the shape of my dick so all you can think about is me.”

Sam doesn’t even know where the words are coming from. He’s all but whimpering into the phone as his orgasm draws near, the muscles of his abdomen pulled taut as his hips rut desperately into his tight grip. The sounds of your soft whines and moans from the phone speaker are driving him crazy, the slick sounds of him fucking his fist filling the car. 

“Cum for me, baby. Please. Need to hear it.” He gasps out, thighs twitching and tensing uncontrollably as he attempts to hold on. He hears a sharp grasp from the other side of the phone, then a low, obscene moan of his name. The sound of you reaching your peak has him spilling over his hand, a ragged gasp escaping him as he continues to rock his hips through the aftershocks.

“Fuck.” He chokes out, slumping against the seat as his grip around his cock loosens. He lets his hand fall to his thigh, cringing briefly at the feeling of his cum staining his skin. He listens to your heavy breaths for a moment, swallowing as he tries to collect his thoughts.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Sam says softly, absentmindedly wiping the mess coating his hands on the fabric of his jeans. Cleaning that would be a problem for future Sam.

“Yeah. Yeah, ‘m good.” You reply shakily, and he smiles at the confirmation.

“Good. That’s… good.” He hums softly, letting his eyes shut momentarily. “Meant it, baby. Gonna come see you soon, no matter how this… Dad thing goes.”

“You better.” Comes your soft reply, and Sam can;t help the breathless little laugh that escapes him.

“Yeah, I promise. I’ll be back soon.” He says gently, eyes flicking open again to glance out of the car window. “I should probably go back up to the room. Dean will probably kill me if he catches me like this in his car.”

It’s your turn to laugh, the sound sending a warm, pleasant flutter through Sam’s chest. “Alright. See you around, Sam. Love you.”

“Yeah, baby. Love you, too.” Sam disconnects the phone, quickly tucking himself back into his jeans. He sneaks back into the hotel room, collapsing on his bed with a soft groan. 

His eyes shut, and he finally gets a good night’s rest, thoughts of you lingering in his mind.

[sammyluvr]

broken, fine for tonight — sam & dean winchester

cw : gn!winchester!reader, hurt/comfort, some angst, reader's the youngest sibling, injury/pain, nicknames (kid, bud, sweetheart), 1.3K words. requested !

summary : you break your ankle but your older brother's are convinced it's just a sprain and leave to finish up a hunt.

dean sounds all gruff and almost annoyed when he says you’ll have to stay in the motel while they take down this nest of vamps. “you’ll be no help with a jacked up ankle,” he grumbles, because it’d be easier with three than two. but his eyes are a little soft as they flick down to your injury and you know it’s just because he’s no good at dealing with being worried about you.

sam comes back from the bathroom, giving you a sympathetic smile as he sets another pair of pain pills on the bedside table next to your half empty plastic water bottle. “you’re good to take these in half an hour,” he says, “and we’ll grab you a proper brace on the way back, alright?”

you give him a tight smile, your breathing measured so it doesn’t come across as labored. “sure,” you agree, still fighting against the pain in your foot in order to appear as composed as you’re expected to be. when you twisted it earlier today, sam and dean brushed it off as a sprain and haven’t stopped to think otherwise since then. 

dean had hauled you back up with strong hands and a comforting pat to your back. you’re alright, he insisted, ‘s just a little sprain, you’ve dealt with worse. he wasn’t trying to be dismissive, but you’ve felt a sprain before, and you’re sure that this is worse.

it must be a pretty bad sprain, sam said with a soft frown when you let out a pained gasp after trying to put just the slightest bit of pressure on it. he looped your other arm around his shoulders, and the two of them practically carried you back to the motel room. they set you down on the bed, and you know that sam normally would’ve checked your ankle with a bit more precision and care most days, but you’re all pretty sure that the vamps have caught on to you, which means the faster they get into the nest, the better. so he simply propped your foot up on all the spare pillows in the room with gentle hands, cringing each time the movement made you wince in pain. he wrapped it in an ace bandage, and you nearly cried out loud as he did. mind otherwise occupied, he’d just told you the pain would fade soon enough.

you think that somewhere in the back of their minds, both of your brothers know that you’re in enough pain to understand that this is worse than they want it to be. their concern is easy to read, but sometimes they hate the prospect of you being hurt so much that they’ll focus that energy onto a different problem until they have to face this one. so they’re out the door before you know it. 

hopefully they’ll give you a longer look when they get back. you’d very much like to go to the hospital to get checked out and hopefully return to the motel with a cast and pair of crutches.

the pain only gets worse and the minutes just drag. time flows so slowly that you start to worry, just like you do every time they’re off on a hunt without you. if they’ve been gone this long, something must’ve gone wrong, right? you check the time and realize it’s been less than a full hour. the ibuprofen you took a bit ago does nothing to help. 

your ankle hurts so badly that you’re teary and sniffly and even though no one’s here to witness it, you’re embarrassed by it nonetheless. but you might as well get the tears out of the way before they come back.

you’re convinced that it’s broken, and by the time the headlights of the impala shine through the half-closed blinds of the motel, you’re in too much of a haze to notice the door unlocking and the boys tramping into the room.

sam’s through the door first, and the second he lays eyes on you, he knows something’s not quite right. he says your name, soft of course, but still loud enough for you to hear. you don’t look over, and he drops his bag on the floor to rush over. dean immediately picks up on the tone of sam’s voice, following close behind.

sam’s big hand on your forehead rouses you. “hey. you with us sweetheart?” he murmurs, voice quiet and clearly concerned. your eyes flutter open and the only thing you can think to do when you register the worry on his face is give him a rueful smile.

“i think it’s broken,” you mumble, voice quiet and tired. you’re somehow numb and still hurting so much at the same time. dean gives a little scoff, more so out of affection than frustration, and rounds the bed to look at your ankle. you wince when he moves it, this time not bothering to hide just how much it really hurts.

“you think?” dean repeats back to you, “jesus, kid, why didn’t you say something before?”

“you didn’t give me a chance,” you retort, frowning deeply but too tired to actually sound upset. “you both said it was sprained.” before dean can make some comment about how it’s your ankle, not theirs so how would they know, sam intervenes.

“we’re sorry, bud,” he murmurs, “we should’ve paid you more attention.” you don’t see the pointed look he gives dean not to argue with you right now, or the way dean puts his hands up in frustration, then softens when he looks back at you. he knows that sam’s right, it’s not fair to get all snarky with you. he’s just fueled by worry and he forgets that his worry very easily turns to anger and irritability. dean’s not upset with you at all, but he is at himself for not noticing just how badly you were injured.

the way that he gently carries you to the back seat of the impala is his apology, plus the promise to find your favorite food after you get checked out from the hospital. sam sits in the back with you to keep you steady. steady and held. his hand holds your head softly, his other keeping your leg still as the car rumbles down along the road.

tonight, everything will be fine. your ankle will heal and once properly treated, it’s true that the pain will fade. sure, they won’t pay the medical bills with real credit cards and the doctor might be impressed or concerned, or both, by your pain tolerance. because this certainly isn’t the first time you’ve been cooped up in the back seat of the impala, hurting and maybe even a little scared while sam holds you and dean drives.

he always steals glances back at you through the rearview mirror, making eye contact with sam to be sure you’re awake and well. but he has to be the one driving because he feels like that’s the only thing he has control of when you’re like this. he just absolutely horrified by the thought that there might be a dark night on empty roads after a hunt or a nearly world-ending event where his can’t drive fast enough. what if, someday, you die in his car and your blood stains the leather, because how could he wipe your blood from the seats like that?

and sam’s the one who’ll be holding you, staunching your blood with his jacket, whispering assurances that you’ll be alright. he’s terrified by the thought that there might be a night where, in the backseat of this car, the place you all silently call home, you’ll die in his arms.

those are the sorts of things they think about. they know that you think about your own nightmares of them dying too. but in this life, the only thing you can do is tuck those thoughts away, somewhere deep and hidden, because tonight, everything will be fine.

[lvvrmel]

CORRUPTION .ᐟ

DEAN WINCHESTER X ANGEL!READER

PAIRING: Human!Dean Winchester x Angel!Reader.

CONTENT WARNING: corruption, innocent!reader, slightly sleazy! dean, gn! reader, nsfw, smut, oral (dean receiving), mdni, 18+

SUMMARY: dean cant stop himself from corrupting your angel-like innocence.

>> word-count — 1.2k .ᐟ

.ᐟ not proofread .ᐟ

Dean had first met you through Castiel, both of you being angels who knew each other from Heaven. You had been tagging along with the Winchester brothers for an indefinite amount of time, occasionally dropping by to visit and help them out a bit.

Dean didn’t really care for you too much at first, although you eventually grew on him. Maybe a bit too much.

Your constant innocence and naivety was adorable in his eyes, and he couldn’t help but imagine what it’d be like to be the one to take that from you. Could you really blame him though? When you bat your eyelashes at him like that, what do you expect from him? He’s a simple guy, of course he’s gonna be attracted to a cute little thing like you.

Sam found Dean’s attraction to you fairly obvious; with his constant staring — not just your chest and backside but your wide eyes and glossy lips too, his never-ending flirting and teasing he continuously aimed towards you. Although, unlike Sam, you did not catch on to Dean’s relentless innuendos, no matter how often he said them and no matter how suggestive he made them. You were just too much of a pure and innocent angel.

Dean really looked forward to the times you’d randomly decide to drop by unannounced. But this time? When you’ve dropped by when he’s all alone? Dream come true for him. Getting you alone plays a huge part in his fantasies.

Dean and Sam had found a motel to stay at during a hunt, both of them in separate rooms that are just next door to each other, and Dean did not expect to get back from the bar and see you sat there on the centre of the bed. It was a nice surprise though.

He raises his eyebrows at the sight of you randomly visiting, shutting the door behind him while he keeps his gaze on you with that smug look on his face, running his hand through his hair as he makes his way over to you, speaking in his usual gruff tone. “Hiya, Sweetheart. What’re you doing here? Decided to drop by?”

Dean watches as you nod your head and smile slightly at him, sitting down on the edge of the bed with a small grunt. “Missed you, yknow, darlin’. Should come visit more. I’d love to see your pretty face more often.” He smirked, reaching over to gently pat your thigh with his hand.

Dean watches as you smile a little more at him, probably appreciating that he missed you and thinks your face is pretty, which only made him think of you as even more adorable. “You’re a cute thing, sweetheart, yknow that? Caught anyones eyes yet?” He sure hopes not. Dean wants to be the first one to touch you, take that innocence from you that he loves so much.

Contentment washes over him when he sees that shake of your head in response, the smirk on his lips widening slightly. “Oh yeah? No angels fallen in love with you? You ever been with a guy before?” Which you responded with another shake of your head and a small “No.” in that soft, sweet voice of yours.

“Never? Oh, darling, that’s adorable. Not even had a quick peck on the cheek?” Dean very clearly loved how innocent you are, how you’re too precious for your own good. Each visit you make to Earth, the more captivated he finds himself.

“Want me to show you what it’s like?” Dean leans forward slightly, the two of you now very close as he watches you consider his offer for a moment, grinning slightly more at your small nod, enjoying the fact your curious to what a kiss feels like.

Dean wasted no time when he saw you agree to his offer of showing you what it’s like to kiss someone, moving closer to you on the motel bed as his hand goes to rest against your cheek, gently pulling you towards him while he leans in, starting off with a chaste, innocent kiss against your lips before deepening the kiss more, his lips pressed against yours as his thumb gently rubs against your inner thigh.

He continues to kiss you as his tongue slips past your lips, reluctantly pulling away after a while once he decides he wants a little more than just making out.

“How was that, sweetheart? Y’wanna go even further than kissing?” He suggests in a low, gruff voice, moving a strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your hair as you hesitantly nod your head a bit after thinking about his suggestion.

With that, Dean gently guides you onto the floor, propped up on both of your knees as he sits on the edge of his bed, his hands hastily unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans, freeing his hard-on from his boxers.

Deans hand loosely pumps himself up and down a bit as a little precum leaks from his tip, eventually resting his hand on the back of your head and guiding you to his cock, quietly instructing you to open your mouth before placing his tip on your tongue, his hand on the back of your head slowly moving your head forward to help you take his whole length, those cute noises you make when his tip prods at the back of your throat sounding like music to his ears.

Your pretty lips wrapped around his cock makes his head roll back, groaning while directing your head back and forth, gradually getting quicker the more he gets closer to cumming.

Dean pants heavily as he slowly starts to thrust his hips, his cock going deeper into your throat at a faster pace than before, letting out a low grunt every now and then as he feels himself getting closer.

When he finally lowers his head to look at you, it does nothing but speed up the nearing climax. Your head relentlessly bobbing back and forth, your eyes ever so slightly tearing up at each inch you take down your throat, he can’t help but grind his hips even quicker at the arousing sight.

Dean can’t take anymore, the view he has of you throating his dick, the sounds you make each time it reaches the very back of your throat, and the way your mouth feels wrapped around his cock, all just becomes too much for him, cum eventually oozing out, landing on your tongue and some of your face from Dean pulling out, his hand pumping his dick a few times while cum continues to land on your lips and chin, watching your eyes close tightly in reaction to the sudden sticky nut that’s now all over your face.

Dean breathes heavily at the sensation of finishing, watching you try to spit his seed out, probably not liking it from how new it all is to you. He gently runs his fingers through your hair before reaching over to the nightstand beside the bed, taking a few tissues from the tissue box that was sitting there, using it to wipe away the cum that had planted on your face.

“God, you’re a natural, sweetheart…” Dean pants out after finishing with wiping the stickiness off your face, leaning down and leaving a soft kiss to your forehead. He was definitely going to be doing that with you again. It was just too good not to happen again. And hopefully he might be able to eventually go further than just a blowjob with you.

[figthoughts]

but like imagine dean fucking you with sam asleep in the same room… 18+

warnings: smut, caught in the act (dean x fem!reader)

*°࿐

“mmmph-”

you moaned against dean’s hand as he rocked his cock up into you, his tip brushing against your cervix.

“shhh, baby…” he cooed quietly, glancing over at his brother asleep in the bed next to yours.

“mmm, can’t…” you murmured against dean’s hand, following his gaze to the younger winchester. sam’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, his lips parted as soft breaths flowed in and out of his lungs.

dean’s hand stayed clamped over your mouth as his eyes flickered back to yours. your walls squeezed around him in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from gushing down his length again; you knew you couldn’t stay quiet if that happened.

“baby, come on,” dean muttered through laboured breaths, “shhhh.”

you couldn’t help the little whimpers and grunts that escaped you as dean continued to thrust his hips up into you, his girthy cock stretching your pussy so deliciously.

“ahh, dean,” you moaned out, squeezing your eyes shut as the pleasure continued to build.

“shhh…” dean whispered again, his cock twitching up into your cunt, “you wake sammy, babe, and he’ll be so mad.”

you felt your pussy tighten around dean’s cock again, nearing another orgasm at the thought of getting caught in such a compromising position. dean bit his bottom lip and scrunched his face, trying to hold in a groan at the feeling. he was barely keeping himself together.

the quiet but lewd sounds of him pumping into your wet cunt filled the room, along with both your soft grunts and the squeaking of the motel bed.

sam let out a groan and rolled over to face you and dean. you both froze, watching and waiting for his hazel eyes to flicker open and catch you two in the act.

but they didn’t. instead they stayed shut. dean hesitantly slid himself back up into you, keeping his eyes on his brother. you watched sam too.

your thoughts started racing around in your head and you couldn’t deny it, some fucked up part of you kinda wanted to get caught riding dean.

dean’s fingers began rubbing your sensitive clit again, making you whimper as he thrusted in and out of you.

“shush, i’m serious.”

you pouted against his hand, “c-can’t… feels too good…”

he gripped your face tighter, “we’ll have to stop if you can’t keep quiet, baby.”

his words sent a flash of panic through your body, your head instantly shaking as you grinded on him, desperate to show him you can be good.

“that’s it. nice and quiet,” he said breathily, feeling you clench around him even more, knowing you were about to let go, “stay quiet for me, angel.”

you hissed and tried to hold back whimpers as you came all over his cock again, your juices leaving a creamy ring around his length as he pumped into you.

dean groaned at the feeling of you gushing all over his cock. his own release washed over him. he shot thick warm ropes of his seed deep into your cunt, making you whimper and clench again as his hips jerked up. he pulled you down against him and buried his head in your neck, letting out louder grunts and moans.

“can you guys shut the fuck up?” sam groaned. you felt a pillow hit the side of you as you laid flat on dean, his softening cock still inside you. you laughed softly in dean’s ear.

“sorry, sammy,” dean smirked as he rubbed your back. he moved his head to look over at his brother, who had turned away and pulled the blanket over his head completely.

dean laughed and pulled you even closer to him, wrapping his arms around you as he whispered in your ear, “oops.”

A/N: wrote and edited this high so ignore it if something’s grammatically incorrect or doesn’t make sense LOL anyways poor sam :( i’m laughing so hard

requests and feedback are welcome and encouraged!! thank uuu <3