castiel + discovering how much he loves the reverence of sex (he’s been cast out and frowned upon by the other angels, this dude needs some praise)
✶ match box 08 — 3k follower event.ᐟ
✦. ─ cw: castiel x fem!reader, 1.9k wc, smut | 18+, praise [both ways], unprotected sex education.
— mixed with this other request, they both wanted praise w/ cas so why not 1 fic where both cas + reader get praised both deserve it!
Everything Castiel knew about sexual relations came from Dean or porn. Neither are all that reliable of sources, God doesn’t exactly give his angels a sex ed class. Therefore to him the act of sex seemed to be a theatrical messy thing humans did for the fun of it, and well he’s half right. He learns with the direction yours and his relationship was progressing, the next natural step was sex (according to dean, why is he listening to him again? he forgets)
So when Cas appears in your bedroom with a “Hello” that scares you shitless, and he’s dressed in a pizza man costume—you are a little beyond confused. “Uh hi my love, why-” you can’t hold back a chuckle, “Why are you all dressed up?” you question. “So we can have sex” your face grows hot at his words and you have to put down your phone to give him your full attention. “Do you want that?”
“Dean says it’s the next step to our bond” he states it like it’s a fact, “Cas, I don't care what Dean says” you sigh softly, grabbing his hand to pull him to sit down on your bed. “Do you want to have sex?” you ask again. He tilts his head in that endearing way he does when he doesn’t seem to comprehend something, you continue on. “Just because Dean told you our relationship should be at that step, doesn’t mean we have to have sex” you explain further, intertwining your fingers with his.
He’s always liked just holding your hand, feeling the warmth of your skin in his palm. “I think I want to, it looks to be fun” he states plainly, looking down at your hands together. “My love, it’s okay if you don’t nothing bad will happen” “And i want you to know you want it not just think it” now he’s confused again, “How do i know?” he asks.
“You know how sometimes when we kiss, it goes on for a while and I occasionally climb in your lap?” “Yes, I like when that happens” you swear your thermostat isn’t set that high so why is your room so hot all of a sudden. “And does anything ever feel-” you pause to think of how to explain arousal to an angel, what is your life. “Tingly? Or like it’s getting hard?”
The way his brows furrow show you he doesn’t completely understand you. “Like between your legs” you add on, he recalls in porn how they sometimes show the thing between the human males legs gets bigger and stiff. He replays in his head, the last time the two of you were kissing and when your hips kept rubbing in his lap, his body seemed to like that a lot.
“Yes” he nods, that weird buzzing feeling runs under his skin now, he doesn’t know what exactly causes it. “That’s being aroused, and do you ever feel like you want something more when that happens?” he’s already nodding before you really finish the sentence.
slick settled in your core at his answer, “Then yeah- yeah we can have sex my angel” you coo a bit out of breath, “Just…one last question?” he’s quiet in loo of waiting for it. “Why the costume?”
“Is a pizza man uniform not a customary part of sex? all the males in those pornographic videos have one” “But I would like to not be as rough as they are, that part does not seem fun” you laugh softly and shake your head side to side, “The costume is just for porn, actual sex is usually different—no, no uniforms necessary and we can go at your pace”
He feels a tad silly now but your laugh makes him body heat up in that odd feeling you talked about “How do we begin?” you let go of his hand and he feels himself pout a bit at the loss of contact to you. It is quickly remedied however when you climb into his lap, his hand instinctively grabbing onto your hips. “We start with foreplay” “Getting the other person worked up, it can be a bunch of different things but how about we stick to what you like? Kissing” you prompt and all Cas does is nod his head. You smile softly in return and place your arms over his shoulder, the silly outfit is still making you want to giggle but you can focus.
Leaning in as you close your eyes as your lips meet his, he responds immediately by doing the same, the kiss quickly heating up with passion, yeah the angel has this down. He rather thinks he’s good at this part. “There we gooo” you giggle a little in praise dragging the vowel to the last word as it morphs into a content hum.
“I like when we do this” he states again even if it doesn’t need to be reiterated, he’s a bit breathless as he says it against your mouth, your hips grind down a little on their own accord. “I can tell, you’re already hard my love” you moan out softly, the noise being the most beautiful sound Cas thinks he’s ever heard in his millions of years. “What- mm what is that next step?” he questions, not wanting to pull away so his words are mumbled into the kiss still.
You however do, nipping at his bottom lip, making a shudder run down his spine as eager blue eyes watch your face—taking in your swollen spit coated lips and lidded eyes. “The next part is where clothes come off” you explain as you hook your fingers under his silly uniform shirt, waiting on his go ahead to continue.
“Please” is all that leaves his lips. You nod softly and tug his t-shirt up and off his upper body, fingers quickly working at undoing his belt and the buttons to his khaki pants. “Aren’t you gonna get undressed too?” he asks once you have him beneath you clad in nothing, his cock twitching in interest, pre-cum already leaking from the reddened tip. “Thought you’d like to be the one to do that angel, if not-” his hands are already grabbing at your shirt, mimicking your motions and stripping it from your body. Your jeans soon join the growing pile of clothing on your bedroom floor, Cas hovering over your body as you laid back on your comforter. “Such a quick learner baby” you coo, raking your fingers through his hair. He strips you of your panties no issue but stalls at your bra, “How-” "There's a clasp at the back, hold on” you aid him by undoing it behind your back, letting the straps fall down your shoulders a bit but allowing him to pull it off completely.
Moving your body a bit, you spread your legs revealing everything to Cas, his eyes can’t help but trace over every part of your naked body. Your bare breasts that rise and fall with each breath you take, the line of your waist down to your hips, and your sex nestled between your thighs that aches at his attention.
Before you can prompt him on the next step, he says your name, making you look up at his face, “Yes love?” "God took his time with you" your heart damn near skips a beat, the way Cas states it as a fact makes you lose your breath a bit. “As he did with you” you state matter of factly, even if Cas doesn’t completely believe you. He moves on his own between your parted legs, his cock pressed to the mound of your pussy, making your hips buck up a bit. “I’ve seen this next part but I want you to do it” shaking your head in understanding you wrap your fingers around the base of him, making him pant out. Dragging him through your soaked folds til your slick collects at the tip, stroking your hand up and down his shaft to coat him in it as lubrication. “A- Ahh” he moans out softly at the small stimulation, “Feels good or bad?” you prompt as you can’t completely with his scrunched up expression.
“Feels new- but good” he huffs out, eyes tracking each stroke of your hand. “Want to be inside” he mumbles out, his thumb coming down to push through your folds aimlessly. You whine a bit at his action, as he manages to somehow brush over your clit with each drag of his thumb.
Grabbing a hold of his hip to pull him closer you line his cock up with your entrance fully prepared to push him in on your own but once his tip pushes at your hole Cas takes over, getting the hang of things by jutting his hips forward fully, til his cock is inside you to the base.
“Oh fuck!” you cry out, “Did i hurt you?” Cas assesses with worried eyes over your body, watching the way your thighs spasm a bit either side of him. “No, no s’ okay just was a lot all at once”
He leans down to kiss at your shoulders and over your face “M’ sorry” he whispered against your skin “Feels so good, like i can feel your heart beat, i like how close we are” he mumbled before lifting back up, holding onto your hips. “Can- Can we continue?” you feel so full and your head already so fuzzy all you can do is use your hand on his hip to push away his body. He pouts for a second thinking you don’t want to until you push him forward again and by the second time you do it, he picks it up. Pulling his own hips back again before thrusting forward at the steady pace you set.
Your head tips back and a moan falls from your mouth when he manages to hit your g-spot dead on by his fourth thrust. “Right- Right there don’t stop please angel feels so good” you cry out. he listens intently and keeps his thrusts aimed at that spongy spot deep inside you.
“You’re doing s’ well my love” you praise, nails raking down his chest, the other leaving his hip to grip at your sheets as your body arches off your bed.
“You’re making me feel so good” “Feel so close to you and s’ loved” he whimpers out, watching the way your sex engulfs his cock with each thrust inside as praise falls from his lips. “Look so pretty under me, wanna do this again can we please do this again?” he blabbed out his hips speeding up the tighter the pit of his stomach feels, he thinks that's a good feeling he’s supposed to chase he’s not sure. Either way he now understands why humans do this and get addicted, it feels like the purest form of love. “Yes we can love, shit, yes. God yes” “Gonna make me cum baby” you whimper out, pussy clenching down on him.
“Is that good?” he inquires, not stopping his deep and hard thrusts. “Yes!” you damn near scream out not in frustration but pleasure. Your orgasm hits you head on and you clench down hard around his cock, making him release a strangled moan as your pussy milks his own orgasm out of him.
With little unrhythmic ruts of his hips, he spills ropes of cum inside you “Good boy” you coo once your breathing evens out, rubbing circles on his waist. “I- Think I also came…was i supposed to?” he pants out after regaining his own breath, you giggle a bit. “Yes love, means it felt good for you too, s’ a good thing” he nods along to your words.
— i’ve never written cas til now + i rushed this near the end so to me this sucks but i hope i did your request justice, so very sorry if not. I also didn’t really proofread this.
Summary: You're feeling insecure, Soldier boy drags you to a mirror and pounds confidence into you.
ꨄ︎ Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, slight choking, smut, mirror sex, rough sex, fingering, p in v, insecure reader, heavy praise kink.
wc: 700
You stood barefoot in front of the massive floor-length mirror that took up most of one wall in the bedroom, arms crossed tight over your stomach like that could hide anything. The black dress you’d chosen for tonight clung to every curve, every soft place, every imperfection you couldn’t stop cataloging. The lights felt too harsh. Your reflection stared back at you, tired eyes, the way your thighs touched, the faint lines on your hips that no amount of Vought-level skincare could erase.
You looked ordinary. And Ben was anything but.
You didn’t hear him until the heavy click of his boots echoed across the marble. He stopped in the doorway. His green eyes narrowed the second he saw you hunched in on yourself.
“The hell is this?” His voice was rough, “You were supposed to be ready, doll.”
You tried to laugh it off, but it came out shaky. “It’s nothing. The dress just doesn’t look right tonight.”
Ben crossed the room coming up behind you. The heat of his body pressed against your back instantly. One large hand settled on your hip, fingers splaying wide.
“Bullshit,” he muttered, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Talk.”
You swallowed hard, eyes dropping to the floor. “I just don’t feel good enough. Not next to you. My body’s not...” You gestured vaguely at the mirror. “It’s not like the girls you used to have. I’ve got stretch marks and I just look tired and...”
“Eyes up.” He caught your chin between his fingers and tilted your face back toward the glass. “You don’t get to look away when I’m talking to you.”
His other hand slid down your side, slow and deliberate, tracing the curve of your waist. “You think I don’t see you? I see every fucking thing, sweetheart. And I still can’t keep my hands off you.”
He tugged the zipper down your back with a single smooth pull. The dress whispered to the floor, leaving you in nothing but black lace panties and a matching bra that suddenly felt too small under his gaze.
Ben’s eyes darkened in the reflection. “Fuck me,” he breathed, almost reverent. He palmed your breasts from behind, squeezing them together, thumbs circling your nipples through the thin fabric until they hardened.
He pinched one just hard enough to make you gasp.
“This ass?” His hands dropped lower, gripping fistfuls of soft flesh and spreading you slightly. “I dream about this ass bouncing on my cock. These thighs?” He gave one a light slap that made the skin jiggle. “I want them wrapped around my head while I eat you out.”
Your face burned, but you couldn’t look away. His words were crude and they were sinking into the cracks of your insecurity.
He hooked his fingers into your panties and dragged them down your legs, letting them catch at your ankles before you kicked them away. One thick finger traced through your folds, finding you slick already. He let out a low, satisfied chuckle.
“Always so wet for me. Your body knows what it wants even when your being fuckin’ stupid.”
You whimpered as he circled your clit lazily. Behind you, he shoved his pants down just enough to free himself. His cock was heavy against your ass, thick, veined, already leaking at the tip. He rubbed it between your cheeks, teasing.
“Hands on the glass,” he ordered. “Don’t you fucking move them.”
You braced your palms against the cool mirror, breath fogging the surface. Ben lined up and pushed in with one deep, relentless thrust. The stretch made your mouth fall open in a silent cry. He was so big, so much, filling you until you felt him in your stomach.
“Watch,” he growled, starting to move, slow, grinding rolls of his hips that dragged against every sensitive spot inside you. “Watch how pretty you look taking my cock.”
The mirror showed everything: your flushed chest, the way your breasts swayed with each thrust, the desperate expression on your face. Ben’s hand came around to rub your clit in tight, perfect circles while the other gripped your hip hard enough to bruise.
“That’s it, doll. Look at those tits bouncing for me. Look how your pussy’s creaming all over my dick.” His thrusts picked up speed, deeper, harder, the wet slap of skin echoing obscenely. “You think any of those Vought sluts could take me like this? No. Only you. This body was built for me.”
Your arms started to shake. Pleasure coiled tight in your belly, but he wasn’t letting you tip over yet. He pulled out suddenly, spun you around, and lifted you onto the edge of the nearby dresser so you were still facing the mirror sideways. Then he was back inside you in one brutal thrust, your legs wrapped around his waist.
“Eyes on us,” he panted against your neck, biting down just hard enough to mark. “See how fucking gorgeous you are when I’m ruining you.”
He fucked you like he was trying to prove a point, deep, punishing strokes that made the dresser knock against the wall. Sweat slicked your skin. Your moans turned into broken cries of his name. Every time your eyes fluttered shut, he’d grip your jaw and force them open again.
“Say it,” he demanded, voice ragged. “Tell me what you are.”
“I’m, fuck, Ben, I’m yours,” you gasped.
“Louder. Tell the mirror how pretty you look getting fucked stupid.”
“I look pretty,” you sobbed, the words finally breaking through the doubt. “I’m pretty, god, please!”
That was all it took. He slammed into you harder, thumb pressing firm on your clit, and the orgasm crashed over you like a wave. Your whole body seized, walls fluttering around his thick length as you came with a sharp cry, eyes locked on your wrecked reflection, lips swollen, hair wild, skin glowing with sweat and marks from his hands.
Ben followed right after with a guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt and spilling deep inside you, hips stuttering through the aftershocks.
For a minute, the only sound was both of you trying to catch your breath. He stayed buried inside, arms wrapped around you like he wasn’t ready to let go yet. His lips brushed your temple, surprisingly gentle.
“You listen to me,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “Next time that voice in your head starts lying, I’m dragging you right back here. Gonna fuck you in front of this mirror until the only thing you believe is how goddamn perfect you are. Got it?”
You nodded, pressing your face into his neck. “Got it.”
warning: 18+, age gap, daddy kink, condescending praise, mock sympathy, manipulation, p in v, cunnilingus
dbf!dean winchester who is only nice to you, and scares off anyone that even dares to look your way while he's around. he would be next to you every second of every day if he could.
dbf!dean winchester who calls you kid and babies you endlessly. you whine about it, pretending you hate it, though you know it gives you a certain type of guilty high that you search out in him. you don't know what your problem is, your dad is great.
dbf!dean winchester who holds your waist, moving you out of the when passing by you- except he's not moving you away, he's making sure his crotch presses right against your butt even though you flinch away at first in surprise.
dbf!dean winchester who calls you a spoiled brat, continues to spoils you anyway by bringing you your favourite treats at least three times a week.
dbf!dean winchester that hates your s/o. hates the way the look at you, the way they smile at you, the way they touch you. he hates the way you seem so oblivious about his feelings even after all this time.
dbf!dean winchester says you deserve way better than that sleazy s/o you keep seeing but never expands on what he means.
dbf!dean winchester who you notice is spending a lot more time at your house, under the guise of seeing your father, but ends up in your room every time.
dbf!dean winchester who comes over and consoles you after your father told him about your awful breakup with your ex, as if he didn't orchestrate it.
dbf!dean winchester who, in an effort to make you feel better, comments on how your ex was a literal piece of shit. you know he's right but it makes you mad so you argue with him, saying he knows nothing about your life. he doesn't take that well because, well,, he knows everything about you.
dbf!dean winchester who shuts your whining up with a kiss. it surprises you but you respond quickly. the not so innocent kiss leads to a hot make-out, palms dragging down his chest, fingers tangled in your hair, tugging harshly so he has better control, little moans slipping out of here and there that get louder when he deepens the kiss.
dbf!dean winchester who decides he's had enough of playing the long game and pushes you onto your bed while kissing you.
dbf!dean winchester who all but rips your clothes to shreds taking them off of you and then he's all over you, your lips, your face, your neck, your collarbone, your tits, your stomach
dbf!dean winchester who finds his way between your legs and nips, sucks and licks at you until you're writhing, crying and begging, drooling all over his chin and lips.
dbf!dean winchester who has waited too long for this and is extremely drunk on you.
dbf!dean winchester who is extremely intense and everywhere at once when he comes up for air, but still makes sure you really want this. next thing you know his fingers are pressed into your throat as he kisses you again.
dbf!dean winchester who practically makes you cry from the sheer size and thickness of him, wraps back around your throat to make both of you feel just a little bit higher.
dbf!dean winchester who fucks you like you've never been fucked before. you feel drunk and high all at the same time, a different type of intoxication- all you know is him. he has to keep your quiet with his other hand.
dbf!dean winchester who's never felt someone so perfect- someone so made for him. that's all he's telling you that too. look at you- just made for me aren't you, fuck you feel so good. meanwhile, you're a whining, babbling mess, but he doesn't care. that's it... tell me what you need baby. tell daddy what you need. you melt around him- for him.
dbf!dean winchester who watches your eyes roll back as he repeatedly hits that spongy spot inside of you, making your gasps, whimpers and moans get louder and louder.
dbf!dean winchester who makes you beg to come. after denying you a couple times, you're sobbing for him and he mocks you for it. saying things like, poor baby, aww are you gonna come, and use your words sweetheart, as he's kissing your tears away as he fucks you harder.
dbf!dean winchester who loves the way you completely engulf him when he finally gives you permission, the way he has to keep your mouth covered with one hand while still pressing into your heavily decorated throat with the other. he immediately comes after you, a loud moan of his own forcing its way through his lips so he has to kiss you to shut you both up.
dbf!dean winchester who, in all his experience, is the king of after care- not that you'd know. you're too far off into dream land.
dbf!dean winchester who sighs, shaking his head in partial disbelief as he tosses the rag somewhere on the floor after cleaning you off, and lays on your bed, snuggling you right into his chest and kissing your forehead. "get some sleep kid. you'll need it."
dividers by @condybunny gif by @deanwinchestersgirl87
did you guys miss meeee? ok this isn't cod but i've gotten into supernatural lately and i've been seeing this trend on tiktok and it gave me inspo to write again.
hi sweet pea! ik i sent you an ask earlier about how much i appreciate you (dont worry, i still love you all the way), but this time i got a request! 🤭
can i get some cutesy little cas x chubby!fem!reader smut? maybe its like he genuinely worships her body?
sorry, this is weird, and really really self indulgent, but i know you can make my idea come to life, and i put all my trust in you to do it!!! as a chubby girl myself, i adoree reading all of your chubby!reader fics, they make me so giggly! okay anyway, i love you girl, so so proud! keep doing your best sweetheart, its amazing 🤍
⋆｡ ˚ god's favorite
summary ˚˖𓍢ִִ໋ fallen and human, castiel still finds divinity between your thighs, worshipping every soft curve like the miracle it is.
pairing ˚˖𓍢ִִ໋ fallen!castiel x chubby!reader ( f )
wordcount ˚˖𓍢ִִ໋ 662 genre ˚˖𓍢ִִ໋ smut !!
warnings ˚˖𓍢ִִ໋ explicit sexual content, oral sex (f!receiving), body worship, praise kink, size kink, established relationship
notes ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ ִ❀໋ consider supporting my work .ᐟ
castiel’s hands are warm and reverent on your thighs.
he kneels between them on the motel bed like it’s sacred ground, blue eyes dark with something closer to prayer than lust. you’re spread open for him, soft belly rising and falling fast, the curve of your hips filling his palms.
he’s been human for months now, but he still looks at you like you’re one of his father’s most perfect creations.
“beautiful,” he murmurs, voice low and rough. his thumbs stroke the soft flesh of your inner thighs, spreading you wider. “every inch of you. a miracle.”
you feel exposed, a little shy under the intensity of his gaze, but the way he touches you chases it away. his mouth follows his hands, pressing open kisses to the crease where thigh meets hip, then lower. when his tongue finally drags through your folds, a deep groan vibrates against you.
castiel sounds like he’s tasting heaven.
“cas—” you gasp, fingers threading into his messy hair.
he answers with another pleased hum, licking broader, deeper. his tongue circles your clit before sucking it gently between his lips. the wet heat of his mouth is overwhelming. he eats you out like he’s starving for it, like the taste of you is salvation. low, satisfied sounds spill from his throat with every lick—deep groans, soft hums, little gasps when you drip onto his tongue.
“so soft here,” he whispers against your pussy, nuzzling into the plush flesh of your mound. “so warm. so wet for me.” his hands slide up to grip your hips, fingers sinking into the curve there. he pulls you closer, burying his face deeper. “i could stay here forever. worshipping what my father made so perfectly.”
your thighs tremble around his head. the praise sinks into your skin, warm and addictive. you’ve never felt so wanted, so adored, every soft roll and stretch of your body cherished under his mouth. castiel’s shoulders are broad between your legs, holding you open while he devours you. his stubble scrapes deliciously against sensitive skin. when he pushes his tongue inside you, fucking you with it in slow, deep strokes, you moan loud enough that the thin motel walls probably let the sound through.
he groans again, louder, like the sound of your pleasure feeds him. “yes. let me hear you. let me taste how much you need this.”
one of his hands leaves your hip and slides down. two thick fingers push into you alongside his tongue, stretching you open. the fullness makes your back arch, soft belly curving as you rock against his face. castiel moans around you, the vibration shooting straight to your core.
“so tight,” he pants between licks. “so perfect. taking everything i give you.” his free hand kneads the soft flesh of your thigh, squeezing, worshipping the weight of it. “i love how you feel under my hands. how you tremble for me.”
you’re close already, hips rolling, fingers tightening in his hair. castiel senses it and doubles down, sucking your clit hard while his fingers curl deep inside you. the wet, filthy sounds of his mouth fill the room along with his constant, satisfied groans.
“come for me,” he begs against your pussy, voice wrecked. “let me feel it.”
you shatter with a cry, thighs clamping around his head as pleasure crashes through you. castiel moans loud and long, licking you through every pulse like he can’t get enough. he keeps going until you’re twitching and oversensitive, only then slowing to gentle, reverent kisses along your folds and inner thighs.
when he finally lifts his head, his lips are shiny, chin wet, eyes glowing with something holy and hungry. he crawls up your body and kisses you slow, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
“thank you,” he whispers against your mouth, like you’re the one who gave him a gift. his hand rests on the soft curve of your stomach, thumb stroking gently. “for letting me worship you.”
ꔛ. all works ; writing guidelines ; writing schedule.
Dean canonically watches hentai so he wants to recreate some icky brother/sister hentai scenes with his younger (but barely legal) girlfriend😶
omgg anon, your mind is amazing! also we don't talk enough about how much of a pervert dean actually is
cw: MDNI!!!, dean x fem reader, fauxcest, reader is an adult
you and dean we're currently sharing a small motel bed. you akwardly squirmed around, trying to sleep after a hunt but all you could hear was dean's phone playing hentai at full volume.
"ugh dean, can you actually be any more of a perv?" you huffed. "it's so fucking unrealistic too. no way in hell she's moaning like that just from getting undressed." you kept whining, starting to question who you were dating.
"awww c'mon, sweetheart. don't be so grumpy, just let me relax after today. you know how stressful it was." he said in a gentle voice that didn't match the dirty sounds coming from his phone.
your eyes closed once again in an attempt to fall asleep but words like "sissy", "older brother" and just a bunch of other messed up phrases made you jump awake. "dean, what the fuck?"
he grinned down at your disgusted expression. "what? are you jealous, baby? do you wish I payed attention to your cute pussy instead of being on my phone?" he squished your thigh. "wanna be good for your older brother, pretty?" he leaned closer to you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
"brother? god dean, you should seriously lay off the porn." you rolled your eyes.
"awww, c'mon baby you got to admit it's kinda hot." his hand squeezed your thigh. "come watch it with me."
somehow he managed to convince you. the screen displayed extreme close ups of a guy thrusting into his younger sister. "I don't get what's so hot about it, it's all blurred anyways." you grumbled.
"that's part of the appeal, now stop acting like a brat." he scolded and lightly slapped your thigh before going back to watching his hentai.
"I'm getting bored." you confessed with a pout. "think I'm gonna go back to sleep."
"yeah? just watchin' it is boring for you?" he pinched your thigh this time. "how about we recreate it, that seem more fun to you?"
his question took you by surprise but it did turn you on just thinking about it. it also would've been better than just hearing the annoying sounds from his phone all night and getting no rest. "y-yeah." you whispered quietly.
before you know it you were on all fours pinned beneath him. his hips slammed into you with brutal force as he made you hold his phone in your hands.
"oh god, dean." you moaned out almost as loud as that woman in the damn hentai. your pussy pulsated around his throbbing cock and you couldn't help but close your eyes in pleasure.
"guess it isn't as exaggerated as you thought, huh? you're moaning like a fucking whore right now." he spat out and grabbed a fistfull of your hair, pulling your head up. "eyes on the phone, sissy."
his command made you clench around his cock and you just looked back at the screen, hoping he didn't notice. but of course he did. what he especially noticed was the sweet slick oozing out of your cunt. "does it turn you on that your older brother watches this sick shit?"
"mmm yes." you moaned. "oh god dean, please." your toes curled at the way his cock was angled perfectly, hitting your sweet g-spot and now he brought his hand down to rub your clit too.
everything was so overstimulating, the loud sounds from the phone, the exaggerated animation, his brutal thrusts. "love seeing my sweet lil' sis come apart on my cock." he groaned.
pressure build up in your stomach and before you knew it clear gush sprayed all over his body. "oh dean- ahhh-"
dean chuckled behind you as he kept thrusting, not even giving you a second to recover. "dirty sissy. you know good sisters shouldn't squirt when their brother fucks them." he nagged you.
at this point the hentai was already over and the phone laid forgotten on the bed. "dean oh my god-," you babbled.
with one last thrust dean came inside of you, filling you up to the brim. he panted heavily and slipped his cock out of you. "you are such a sweet girl for me." he praised. "fulfilling all my sick fantasies."
summary. sam is in jail. it’s been two weeks and he still isn’t out. time is taking a tool on you both.
pairing. sam winchester x reader ( f )
wordcount. 1055 genre. smut!!
warnings. explicit sexual content (phone sex, mutual masturbation descriptions via phone, dirty talk, orgasm with no physical contact), themes of incarceration/separation frustration, intense yearning n frustration (sam unable to touch reader), adult language, detailed arousal descriptions, coming in pants
The visiting room makes the situation even more depressing. Gray walls, gray tables bolted to the floor, a jumpsuit on the man you love sitting across from you with a thick pane of scratched Plexiglas between your faces. Two black phones hang on either side—old-fashioned handsets, coiled cords already twisted from too many desperate conversations.
Sam looks different. Leaner. Shadows under his eyes darker. His hair’s a little longer, curling at the nape, and the orange fabric stretches tight across his shoulders like it’s mocking how much space he usually takes up in a room. He picks up the receiver the second you do. Presses it to his ear so fast you hear the plastic click against his skull.
“Hey,” he says. Voice low. Rough. Like he’s been saving it.
“Hey.” You try to smile. It feels thin. “You okay?”
He exhales through his nose. “Better now.” His free hand flattens against the glass—palm wide, fingers long. You mirror him without thinking. Your fingertips don’t quite meet his. The barrier is cold. Impersonal. Cruel.
Two weeks. It was supposed to be seventy-two hours. A paperwork glitch. A pissed-off marshal. Whatever excuse they fed Dean this time. Two weeks of motel beds too big, of reaching for him in the dark and finding nothing but sheets. Two weeks of Sam in here, counting days, counting you.
“I miss you,” you say. Simple. Honest. It cracks something open in his expression.
“Fuck, baby.” His voice drops lower. “You have no idea.” His eyes flick down your body—slow, deliberate—like he’s trying to memorize every inch through the glass. “Been thinking about you nonstop. Every night. Every goddamn minute.”
Heat crawls up your neck. You shift in the hard plastic chair. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He leans closer to the partition. Breath fogs the glass for a second. “Tell me what you’re wearing under that shirt.”
You glance around—guard at the far end, half-turned, talking to another inmate’s visitor. No one’s paying attention. You lower your voice anyway.
“Same bra you like. The black one. No padding. And those panties you said made my ass look obscene.”
Sam’s throat works. Hard swallow. “Jesus.” His hand flexes against the glass. “Wish I could rip them off you. Right here. Bend you over this table and—”
“Sam.” Your breath hitches. You press your thighs together under the ledge. “Keep going.”
He does. Voice turns gravel-rough. “I’d start slow. Kiss that spot behind your ear that makes you shiver. Bite your neck just hard enough you’ll feel it tomorrow. Slide my hand down your stomach—fuck, I miss how soft you are there—then under the waistband. Feel how wet you already are for me.”
You’re breathing faster now. The phone cord twists around your finger. “I am,” you admit. Quiet. “Just hearing you.”
A low groan slips out of him—barely audible, but it hits you like a punch. “Touch yourself,” he says. Command wrapped in desperation. “Right now. Under the table. Where no one can see.”
Your hand moves before your brain catches up. Slips between your thighs, presses firm against the seam of your jeans. The pressure’s immediate. Not enough. Never enough without him.
“Done,” you whisper.
“Good.” His eyes are dark. Locked on your face like he’s trying to see through your skin. “Rub slow circles. Pretend it’s my fingers.The ones that know exactly how you like it.”
You do. Slow. Teasing. Your hips rock forward just a fraction—instinct. “Sam—”
“Tell me how it feels.”
“Hot,” you breathe. “Achy. Wish it was you stretching me open. Wish I could feel you—fuck—deep.”
He makes a sound—half growl, half whimper. His free hand disappears below the table ledge. You can’t see it, but you know. The way his bicep flexes. The subtle shift of his shoulders.
“Are you—?”
“Yeah.” Voice strained. “Hard as fuck. Been hard since you walked in. Can’t help it. You in that shirt. That look on your face. Fuck.”
You bite your lip. Press harder. “Stroke yourself. Slow. Like you’re teasing me.”
He hisses through his teeth. “Already am. Thinking about your mouth. How you look when you take me—eyes watering, lips stretched. Goddamn, I miss that.”
Your rhythm falters—pleasure spiking sharp. “I’d suck you so good right now,” you tell him. “Deep. Messy. Let you fuck my throat until you’re shaking.”
“Fuck—baby—” His breathing turns ragged. “I’d hold your hair. Pull just enough. Watch you take every inch. Then flip you over. Spread you wide. Slide in so slow you beg.”
“I’d beg,” you gasp. Fingers circling faster now. The seam of your jeans is soaked through. “Please, Sam. Need you inside me.”
He groans—long, broken. “I’d fuck you hard. Deep. Make the table shake. Make you scream my name so loud the guards hear it. Mark you. Fill you up until it’s dripping down your thighs.”
You’re close. Too close. The glass between you feels like torture. “Sam—I’m gonna—”
“Do it,” he rasps. “Come for me. Right there. Let me watch your face when you fall apart.”
Your orgasm hits sudden and brutal—silent because you have to be, but your mouth opens on a soundless cry. Thighs clamp around your hand. Whole body locks up. Waves rolling through you while you stare at him through the haze.
Sam’s eyes blow wide. Jaw slack. Then his head tips back—just a fraction—and a low, choked moan tears out of him. His shoulders jerk once. Twice. You see the moment he spills—hot, helpless—into the jumpsuit pants he can’t even get off properly. His hand stays below the table, milking it out while he stares at you like you’re the only real thing in the room.
For a long second neither of you speaks. Just heavy breathing down the line. Hearts hammering.
Finally he laughs—soft. Wrecked. “I just came in my fucking prison pants. Like a teenager.
”You huff a breathless laugh too. “Hot.”
“Yeah?” His smile is crooked. Tired. Adoring. “Next time I’m out of here—and I will be—I’m not letting you leave the bed for a week.”
“Promise?”
“Swear.”
You both stay quiet after that. Hands still pressed to the glass. Phones still at your ears. The guard calls time in five.
Sam’s thumb strokes the barrier like he can feel your skin.
“I love you,” he says. Quiet. Certain.
“Love you more.”
And for now—for two more weeks, maybe—that’s enough.
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