@fallenflirt - Tumblr Blog

　　　　　　⠀ֺּׅ⠀ֺּׅ𓏽⑅　　 ݁　 .　　she　　was　　an　　ꪖꪀᧁєl.

݁　 .　ᏦᏋᎧ 　　black 　girl 　　8teen 　　angelcore 　　supernatural 　　sam winchester enthusiast 　　jared padalecki admirer. 　　 golden + white aesthetics 　 lace ribbons 　 heavenly archives. 　 long french curl braids 　　 oversized hoodies, late-night playlists　　 celestial daydreaming. 　　 golden aesthetics 　　 lace ribbons 　　 heavenly archives.

݁　 .　　　　　　 library　　taglist　　rules　　community

#©.　𝖿ᥲᥣᥣᥱᥒ𝖿ᥣіr𝗍　─　pinned #⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀#black⠀⠀girl #⠀⠀⠀⠀sam⠀ winchester⠀ lover⠀⠀⠀⠀.#minors ⠀⠀⠀⠀do⠀⠀⠀⠀not⠀⠀⠀⠀interact.#⠀　⠀　⠀#⠀　⠀　⠀deanie & sammy lover　⠀　⋆˚✿˖°#⠀　⠀　⠀castiel & charlie lover　⠀　⋆˚✿˖°#black writer

wait why did you move accounts? 🤍

Honestly, I just felt like starting fresh. My old account didn’t really fit the vibe I wanted anymore, so I decided to move to a new one that feels more like me.

#(©.　𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑺　)　───　inbox ⊹ ࣪ ˖#⋆°࿔ 𝑯ᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ ⎯⎯ 𝑨sᴋs

Sam Winchester x Alien!Reader 𓂃 Explicit sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, breeding kink, possession themes, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, doggy style.

The motel door slams shut behind you, and Sam's mouth is already on yours—hot, demanding, desperate. His hands cup your face, thumbs brushing dangerously close to the delicate antennae that curve from your forehead, and you gasp into the kiss.

"Sam—"

"Shh." His voice is gravel and want. "Been thinking about this since I saw you."

You shouldn't be here. You should be light-years away, but the moment this human hunter looked at you with those hazel eyes, something primal sparked between you. Something that transcends species.

His fingers thread through your hair, carefully avoiding your antennae—for now—and you whimper at the restraint. You need him to touch them, but he's taking his time, peeling your shirt over your head with agonizing slowness.

"So fucking beautiful," he breathes, drinking in the sight of you. Your skin shimmers faintly in the dim lamplight, an otherworldly iridescence that makes his pupils blow wide with lust.

You reach for his flannel, fumbling with buttons until he takes over, shrugging it off along with the shirt beneath. God, he's gorgeous—all broad shoulders and lean muscle, a warrior's body marked with scars that tell a thousand stories.

"On the bed," he commands, voice dropping an octave. "Hands and knees."

Your antennae quiver at his tone, and you obey without hesitation, crawling onto the mattress and positioning yourself exactly how he wants you. The vulnerability of it makes your core clench with anticipation.

Sam's hands slide up your thighs, pushing your skirt up around your waist. He groans when he discovers you're not wearing anything underneath.

"Fuck, sweetheart. You trying to kill me?"

"Please—" You arch your back, presenting yourself shamelessly. "Sam, I need—"

The first touch to your antennae steals the words from your throat. His fingers brush the left one, feather-light, and pleasure explodes through your nervous system like a supernova. You cry out, arms nearly buckling.

"These sensitive, baby?" His voice is dark honey, smug and knowing. He strokes along the length of one antenna, and you keen, pushing back against nothing. "Yeah, they are. Gonna make you come just from touching these, aren't I?"

"Please—"

You hear his belt buckle, the rasp of his zipper, and then he's there—thick and hard, nudging against your entrance. He slides in slowly, stretching you open, and the fullness combined with his fingers still teasing your antennae makes you see stars that aren't from any Earth constellation.

"So tight," Sam grits out, bottoming out inside you. "Taking me so perfectly. Like you were made for my cock."

He starts to move, deep rolling thrusts that hit something devastating inside you. One hand grips your hip hard enough to bruise, anchoring you, while the other wraps gently around your right antenna. When he tugs—just slightly—you scream.

"That's it. Let me hear you." He sets a punishing rhythm, fucking into you while stroking your antennae in synchronized movements. The dual stimulation is overwhelming, pleasure building in impossible layers. "Gonna fill you up, sweetheart. Gonna breed this pretty alien pussy until you're dripping with me."

"Yes—oh god, Sam, yes—"

His fingers tighten on your antenna, and the sensation shoots straight to your core. You're babbling now, incoherent pleas in a mix of English and your native tongue, and Sam responds by fucking you harder, the obscene slap of skin on skin echoing through the room.

"Mine," he growls, possessive and primal. "This body, these perfect fucking antennae—mine. Say it."

"Yours!" You're shaking, teetering on the edge of something catastrophic. "Sam, I'm yours, please—"

He releases your hip to wrap his hand around the base of both antennae, applying gentle pressure while his cock drives deep, and you shatter. Your orgasm rips through you with the force of a collapsing star, every nerve ending igniting at once. You clench around him, inner walls fluttering, and Sam curses—a broken, reverent sound.

"Fuck, that's it, come on my cock—"

He pulls you upright suddenly, your back against his chest, changing the angle so he's impossibly deeper. His arm bands across your stomach, holding you in place while he continues to thrust up into you. His other hand still works your antennae, drawing out your pleasure until you're sobbing with overstimulation.

"Gonna fill you up," he pants against your neck, teeth scraping your pulse point. "Gonna pump you full of my cum, mark you inside and out—"

His rhythm falters, becomes erratic, and then he's coming with a guttural moan, spilling hot and deep inside you. The sensation triggers another smaller orgasm, and you milk him through it, both of you trembling and gasping.

Sam gentles his touch on your antennae, stroking them soothingly now as you both come down. He presses kisses to your shoulder, your neck, the space behind your ear.

"Holy shit," he breathes.

You laugh, breathless and sated, leaning back against his solid warmth. "That's one way to make first contact."

His chest rumbles with laughter, and he carefully lowers you both to the mattress, still buried inside you, unwilling to separate just yet.

"Stay," he murmurs, lips brushing the base of your antenna. "At least for tonight."

You turn your head to meet his eyes, seeing something tender beneath the satisfied hunger.

"Tonight," you agree softly. "And maybe tomorrow."

His smile is worth traveling galaxies for.