A place to reblog fics I enjoy
Primarily SFW, very occasional NSFW
(please heed any warnings on posts, recommended 16+ for NSFW content for your own wellbeing but ultimately, it's your desicion)
She/Her/They/Them
Check out my main @reginaphalangelobster where I write when I can!
Hi I'm Lobster and this side blog is a way for me to reblog all of the fics I enjoy!
My rules are pretty simple, most of what I reblog here will be SFW (very occasional NSFW) and completely incest free (it's a shame have to say that but I watch Supernatural, so yeah)
I will mainly reblog works for;
Supernatural
The Boys
MCU & X-Men
Criminal Minds
Doctor Who
Buffy The Vampire Slayer & Angel
I'm a fan of many other shows so you may see some things for 911: Nashville, Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, House MD and whatever else I read and like.
As stated above, this is a side blog.
My main blog is @reginaphalangelobster and I mainly just write there, various things but check it out if you're interested!
My graphics side blog is @lobster-graphics and all of the graphics on this blog were made by me!
I take requests on both of these blogs so if you're looking for a fic or some cool dividers, have a look!
Loki stood before you, brows knit, lips pursed in that skeptical way they did whenever you'd bring up something "midgardian" that he'd never heard of. You'd told him you wanted to do a trend that you had seen with him, refusing to answer questions, insisting it would ruin the point, which only added to his doubts.
And yet, because he loved you, here he stood, watching you prop your phone up to face towards the two of you, pressing the little red record button and padding back over.
"Are you now going to enlighten me on this 'trend' you speak of?"
You simply shook your head, giggling a little as you took his hands in yours, prompting him to raise them up over his head.
"Not yet!"
"My love, this is ridiculous, what purpose could standing in such a way possibly- mmph!"
He was silenced as you pressed your lips to his, your hands gently cupping his face, thumbs swiping across cheekbones. His arms remained in the air for a second. two. before slowly lowering, palms sliding down your sides before wrapping fully around your waist. He kissed you back softly, sweetly, like he all but forgot your phone still recording.
You pulled back, all bright eyes and softly smiling.
"You melted, that's the trend."
"Melted?" he inquired, head tilted.
"Into the kiss, you melted!"
For a brief moment he seemed confused, then lightly offended, but a quick kiss on the cheek from you softened his features all together.
"It was cute."
When you tried to slip out of his arms to cut the video, he caught your wrist, gently tugging you back. His arms wrapped around you once more, lips capturing yours again with a soft murmur.
x fem reader àšà§ ÖŽ àŁȘ â dean winchester taking the strap like a good boy
character featured. dean winchester.á + sub.á dean
rating: mature.á
The smirk, the swagger, the leather jacket, the âIâm fineâ that means absolutely nothing. Heâs spent his whole life being the strong one, the protector, the one who takes care of everyone else. So when you take charge? When you put him down?
He short-circuits. Immediately.
requesting rules. masterlist.
Dean doesnât do vulnerable. Dean does jokes and deflection and sex as a weapon. But with you.. the second you say âtonight, youâre going to let me fuck you,â his whole facade cracks. He laughs first. Nervous. A little too loud. âYeah, right. Thatâs funny.â
Then he sees your face. Sees that youâre not joking.
His throat works. Adamâs apple bobbing. His hands find his own thighs, gripping hard. âYou- wait. For real?â
You donât answer. You just start unbuckling his belt.
And Dean lets you. Thatâs the thing. He could stop this. Heâs stronger than you. But he doesnât. His hips lift off the bed so you can pull his jeans down. His arms go over his head without being told. Heâs already panting.
âThis is so fucked up..â he whispers, but heâs half-hard. âYouâre gonna make me into a- a bitch or sumthin'...â
âThat's kind of the plan.â you say. âNow shut up and turn over.â
He does. God, he does. Dean Winchester, on his hands and knees, ass in the air, face burning red. He canât look at you. He buries his forehead in his crossed arms and mumbles, âI hate you. I hate this.â
But his hips are already rocking. Small, involuntary circles. Seeking.
âsure you do, Deanie.â
When you grab his hips hard enough to leave fingerprints, he groans. Deep. Guttural. âFuck. Yeah. Hold m'down. Donâ let me move. Iâll be bad. Iâll be so fucking bad. You have to make me.â
He talks constantly. Dean cannot shut up when heâs turned inside out like this. Sam whines and begs and cries. Dean runs his mouth like a fucking porn star, and itâs the hottest, stupidest thing youâve ever heard.
You lube him upâtwo fingers, then threeâand he chokes on a groan. His hips push back onto your fingers like a starving thing. âMore. More, more, more. Give me another. I can take four. I want four. Stretch me open. Make me a mess.â
Heâs dripping precum onto the sheets in thick, sticky strings. He reaches back with one hand and tries to help you finger himself. You slap his hand away.
He whines. Dean Winchester whines. âfuuuuckkk, jus' gimme anotherrrr.â
When you finally line up the toy he pushes back onto it before you can even thrust. Impales himself in one desperate, reckless movement.
âOh fuck-â
His voice cracks, his arms give out. He collapses to his elbows, face in the sheets, ass still up, and heâs grinding back onto you. You grab a fistful of his short hair and yank his head back. He moans like a whore. His back arches harder, presenting himself to you like itâs the only thing he knows how to do. You set a brutal pace: hard, fast and mean, and Dean meets every thrust with a slap of his hips, no shame, no hesitation. Heâs fucking himself back on you so hard the headboard is banging against the wall.
âHarder-â he gasps. âFucking destroy me. I want to limp tomorrow. I want everyone to know.â
Heâs just a man. Loud, wrecked, and greedy.
âOh fuck- oh fuck- yeah, yeah, yeah, just like that, donât stop, donât you fucking stop, holy shit-â
His mouth is running nonstop. Dirty, broken, desperate nonsense. âYou like that? You like fucking your boyfriendâs tight little ass? God, youâre so deep, youâre so deep- faster, come on, fuck me faster, I can take it, Iâm not fucking made of glass-â
You, suprisingly, listen to his demands and speed up the pace to his heart's content.
âThatâs my girl,â he pants, grinning through the sweat and the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. âThatâs my fucking girl. Look at you. Look at what you do to me. Iâm such a mess. Iâm such a fucking mess for youââ
He reaches back with one hand and spreads his own cheek wider. Wider. For you. Just to give you a better angle. Because Dean Winchester in doggy style isnât just submissiveâheâs an exhibitionist about it. He wants you to see every inch of how pathetic he is. He wants you to know that heâs yours.
âHarder,â he gasps. âHarder, harder, fuck- break me, I donât care, I want to feel this tomorrow, I want to sit in the Impala and wince every time I hit a bump and remember-â
His cock is leaking onto the sheets, untouched, and heâs so close you can see it in the way his thighs shake. But he doesnât ask to come. He doesnât even think about it. All he wants is more. More thrusts. More depth. More of you.
âTell me Iâm yours-" he moans, and for the first time, his voice cracks. âTell me Iâm your good little slut. Tell me or Iâm gonna fucking lose it-â
You lean down, lips to his ear, and you whisper exactly what he needs to hear. It makes him choke on a breath that turns into a sob once and then come so hard his vision whites out. His mouth falls open, eyes wide, as he spills all over the comforter in thick, pulsing ropes.
And when he comes back to himself, ten seconds later, he just laughs. A breathless, wrecked, happy laugh. He doesnât move from his position. He just looks over his shoulder at you with those fucked-out green eyes and grins.
âSo,â he says, voice hoarse. âSame time tomorrow?â
Itâs all in the color. Your blank-faced angel of the lord never fails to turn pink in the cheeks when met with the rhythm of your beating heart. The sound is the only thing that gets him going. Itâs almost embarrassing, really, to see him cling so naturally to you like a shy puppy, begging to hear the bump bump bump up close and personal. You like watching him be clingy anyway. It starts with his hands gently wrapping around your body, his nose finding its way to your neck where heâll mumble something incoherent, and finally his head beginning to maneuver right above your heart.
âMay I listen? I want to listen if you would let me.â
If he had a tail it would be between his legs, and if he had ears theyâd be flat against his skull.
Castiel loves you so much that your heartbeat gets him emotional. You never see him act this way outside of cuddle time: grabby hands, twitchy wings, and a pathetic amount of whining for your attention and touch. It gets to a point where you have to stop yourself from laughing when he gets the confidence to haul himself against your chest to beg for a hug. Youâve never had to say no, instead reciprocating with a âhi babyâŠ.â And a kiss on the forehead to calm him down. Castiel loves it when you indulge him, and you canât help that you find it adorable. If actions speak louder than words, then Castiel is always yelling.
Youâd be lying if you said you didnât like it just a little bit. After knowing him for so long, youâve come to the understanding that he has a craving for touch like everyone else. Its hard to forget the look on his face when you begin to initiate little touches to your pulse, bringing his two fingers to that spot under your jaw and having him say out loud the bpm in which your heart is beating. Or times where you record your heartbeat for him to listen to over text, and laughing at the barrage of heart emojis paired with the message:
âSo beautiful. I am very happy. I love you.â
Get a kiss from an angel by joining my Taglist~đȘœ
You, being the good Samaritan you are, see what's going on with Dean and Cas and decide it's time to intervene. In the process, you spend a lot more time with Dean and Cas individually and you start to develop feelings. You think it's just because you're getting in the other's head and trying to see what they see with those lovestruck eyes, but you're deeply ahem, profoundly, in love with them. One morning when Dean and Sam are headed off on a case while you and Cas stay behind and research, he presses a soft, quick kiss to your lips as a goodbye. whaaaaaat the fuck. You're completely shocked like what the damn hell is going on here?? Cas notices that something is off with you and you don't want to tell him because how could you crush his poor little angelic heart, but you can't lie to him. You tell him, and he's his usual self, just replying "Oh. Very good"
And you think he's putting on a brave face or something when he kisses you too. You're still in what the fuck mode, and he explains.
"I was waiting for Dean to kiss you first because he has possessed romantic feelings for you for longer, I thought you knew"
"Knew what now?"
"D- my love, did you not know we were in a relationship?"
"Wh- no! I thought you and Dean were!"
"We are"
"You lost me"
"You, Dean and myself are in a romantic relationship. We have been for weeks. I said to Dean that we should have told you, he said you already knew"
"I did fucking not!"
He'd get that sad puppy look "I take it your reaction means you're unhappy?"
"W- no, Cas. I just wish I knew sooner, or it certainly wouldn't have taken weeks for our first kiss"
"It wouldn't?"
"'Course not"
Aaaaaand then some kind of super fluff happy ending with the three of them.
Sorry if this makes no sense lol, I just scribbled it out rn. Totally okay if you don't wanna write it!!
omg this has been sitting n my drafts for like a week, i hope i did u justice !!!
THREE'S A CROWD
wordcount: 2077
summary: After months of pining from the sidelines and playing matchmaker for Dean and Cas, a casual goodbye kiss from the hunter sends you into a spiral. As it turns out, the only thing more oblivious than those two is you.
warnings: fluff/crack, poly relationship (dean x reader x cas), obliviousness, miscommunication, kisses, established relationship (even if u werenât aware u were in it) âthink thatâs all for now !!!
You had made a terrible mistake, a truly horrible mistake. A mistake so monumentally stupid that, looking back, you weren't entirely sure how you'd managed to screw up this bad. It had started innocently enoughâ Dean and Castiel were hopeless. Not in the dramatic, star-crossed-lovers sense. (Though that a little bit too) They were just two stubborn idiots who looked at each other like they hung the damn moon and then acted confused whenever anyone suggested there might be feelings involved. So naturally, you intervenedâ somebody had to.
At first it was small things. You'd convince Cas to join movie nights because Dean always looked happier when he was there, you'd drag Dean into the library when Cas was researching because (despite all his complaining) he inevitably ended up sitting beside the angel for hours. It wasn't manipulation, it was encouragementâ at least, that's what you told yourself.
Then somehow, somewhere along the way, things had gone horribly wrong. Because spending time with Dean Winchester was dangerous. Nobody warned you just how dangerous it truly was. One minute? He was an annoying jerk who stole your friesâ the next he was handing you his jacket when you looked cold, bringing you coffee exactly how you liked it, checking on you after difficult hunts, looking at you with those stupid green eyes whenever he thought you weren't paying attention⊠And then there was the angelâ sweet, earnest, impossibly sincere Castiel. The angel who listened to every word you said as though it was important, who always sat beside you, who remembered things about you that you had long forgotten yourself, who trusted you enough to lower every wall he hadâŠ
You never stood a chance. The realization hit slowly, then all at once. And by the time you understood what was happening, you were already hopelessly in love with both of them. Which was unfortunateâ because they were very obviously in love with each other. You saw it every day, the lingering glances, the quiet conversations, the absolute devotion⊠It practically radiated off them. So you buried your feelings and continued playing matchmaker. (Like an idiot) A very dedicated idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.
Weeks passed. Then one morning, everything exploded. The Winchester brothers were heading out on a case a few states over, nothing serious, just a quick salt and burn that would take them a couple hours tops. Meanwhile, you and Cas had stayed behind to do research in the bunker.
Dean grabbed his duffel bag, Sam grabbed the keys and Cas stood beside you, flipping through a lore bookâ everything was normal. At least, right up until Dean crossed the room. You barely had time to look up from what you were doing before his hand settled on your lower back, then he leaned down and kissed you. Soft, quick, casual. A simple goodbye kissâ the kind that suggested he'd done it a hundred times before. Your brain immediately stopped functioning, completely black-screening into confusion. Dean pulled away like nothing had happened. "See ya tonight" Then he left.
The bunker door slammed shut and silence filled the room. You stood perfectly still, several seconds passing. Then several more. Eventually, Castiel looked up from his book, confused by your sudden silenceâ those gentle, confused eyes staring right at you. "You appear distressed"
You slowly turned toward him. Suddenly realizing heâd just seen thatâ the poor angelâs kind heart mustâve been wrecked. You had to be very careful when wording your confusion. "Dean kissed me."
"Ah, very good" He hums simply, nodding to himself before glancing back at the book in his hands.
A disbelieving, confused breath escapes you. You must be losing your ever loving mind because this canât be happening right now. "What do you mean âvery goodâ?"
Castiel, sensing your distress, immediately abandoned his research and moved closer. Concern softened his usually stoic expression. "You are upset" Youâre not sure what thought process led him to believe this was the answer, but he kisses you. As if one kiss hadnât been enough to short-circuit you, now you had two to try and process. Maybe he was trying to put on a brave face or somethingâŠ? His gruff, murmur-like voice pulls you out of your inward spiral: "I was waiting for Dean to kiss you first since he has possessed romantic feelings towards you for longer, I thought you knew"Â
"Knew what now?"Â
"My loveâŠ" Castiel spoke carefully, that little confused furrow to his brow while he looks at your face. "Did you not know we were in a relationship?"
"Whatâ No?â You scramble, trying to understand. âI thought you and Dean were"Â
He nods simply. "We are"
You press your hands to your temples, head hurting from all the confusion. "Angel, youâre losing me here"Â
"You, Dean and myself are in a romantic relationshipâ have been for weeks. I told him we should have told you, but he said you already knew"Â
âI most certainly did not know!â You canât help but spit out.
He got that sad puppy look he always got when trying to follow along with human interactions, head tilting to the side. "I take it your reaction means you're unhappy?"Â
âWhat? No, noâ of course notâ You quickly backtrack, demeanor softening at his expression. âItâs just I had no idea about any of thisâ
The angelâs eyes are furrowed into confused, little blue slits. His pretty lips parted in a quiet thought. "You have your own drawer in Dean's room" He points out.
"Because I stay over after movie nights" You retort, trying to reason your own behavior.
"Youâve slept beside us countless times"
"Only sometimes"
"You hold our hands"
"That's normal friend stuff"
"You kiss me"
"Whaâ well, on the forehead"
His eyes softened, understanding slowly downing over him. "I see..."
"Yeah" You chuckle softly, still confused but gently relaxing into the situation.Â
"I told Dean we should clarify" He nods to himself, clearly realizing he was very much right from the beginning. "He said you already knew"
You let out a soft, reluctantly amused breath, shaking your head in fond disbelief. "Of course he did" Despite everything, you couldn't help but smile. "You absolute idiots"
Castiel nodded, a small little smile tugging at his own mouth. "That assessment seems fair"
"I've spent months convincing myself I couldn't have either of you" Heat rushed into your face, suddenly realizing your confession. (As if you hadnât just kissed both of them) Well, clearly thereâs no point in hiding it now. The smile that appeared on his face was so bright and boyish it was almost unfair.
Youâre so absorbed in each other and this little moment that neither of you noticed the bunker door openingâ or Dean stepping inside, or the fact that he'd forgotten his wallet right beside yâall on the bunker libraryâs table. "What the Hell?" The hunter stood in the doorway looking between the two of you, then at your joined hands (when did that happen?) then back at your faces. A grin spread across his own face, smug and teasing in that way only Dean Winchester managed to pull off.
Realization hit and your eyes narrowed. "You"
The hunter pointed at himself with all the faux innocence he could muster. "Me?"
"You started this"
"I most certainly did not" He scoffs, acting all offended.
"You kissed me and left!"
Dean looked genuinely confused. "Yeah?"
"Yeah?" You echo back to him, genuinely baffledâ though reluctantly amused.
He glanced at Castiel, clearly expecting backup but the angel provided none. Instead, Cas nodded once, shrugging his trenchcoat-covered shoulders. "I did tell you we should clarify."
The blonde groaned. "Oh, câmon"
"Noâ " You pointed at him accusingly, barely holding back a smile. "Do not 'oh, câmon' meâ I have spent months trying to get you two together"
Silence. Dean blinked, then barked out a laugh so loud it echoed through the library. "You did what?"
"I thought you were in love with each other!" You retort. (Mainly out of embarrassment)
"We are!"
You sputter, a small, disbelieving chuckle managing to push through. "That doesnât help!" Dean doubled over laughingâ even Castiel looked amused now. You crossed your arms defensively. "Neither of you get to laugh at me"
"Sweetheartâ " Dean managed between laughs. " âyou've been sleeping in our bed" Was he really about to give you the same monologue Cas had just done minutes before to try and excuse this whole misunderstanding?
"After movie nights!"
"You wear my shirts constantly"
"They're comfortable"
"You hold Cas' hand"
"He's Cas!" Thatâs a reasonable enough argument by itself to be honest.
Dean pointed dramatically at you before looking at the angel. "See? This is exactly what I was talking about."
Castiel considered it, solemnly nodding along. "You may have a point"
"Oh, now you're both on the same side" You huff, reluctantly amused despite yourself.
"We've always been on the same side" The blonde said simply, shrugging as he walked over. The words were simple, casual. But something about them made your chest acheâ because for the first time, you realized he meant you too. Not just him and Cas, but the three of you. Always. Some of your earlier frustration must have shown in your face because Dean's expression softened immediately, the teasing grin fading into something gentler. "HeyâŠ" You looked upâ his eyes were warm, fond. The same way they'd always been when he looked at you, just that you hadn't understood what you were seeing. "We really thought you knew"
The sincerity in his voice made it impossible to stay annoyed. You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "Well, I didn't"
"Clearly" He teases.
"Months, Dean"
He winced half-heartedly. "Yeah, that one's on me"
"Damn right it is"
He stepped closer, close enough that his shoulder brushed yoursâ then he reached up and cupped the back of your head. The gesture was so uncharacteristically gentle that your heart almost melted. "Mâ sorry, sweetheart"
Damn it. There went the last of your irritation. You huffed out a reluctant laugh. "You're lucky I like you"
Dean grinned. "Lucky?"
"You are ridiculously lucky"
"Good"
On your other side, Castiel's fingers found your free handâ instinctively, you looked between them. Dean, Castiel. Both watching you like you were something preciousâ something chosen, something loved. The realization settled warmly in your chest. Months of longing, months of convincing yourself to be happy for them from the sidelines, months of pretending your heart didn't break a little every time you saw them together without being a part of it. All of that had been for nothing. Because somehow, they had wanted you there all along. Your eyes stung unexpectedly. Castiel noticed first, he always did. His thumb brushed gently across your knuckles. "My love?"
You laughed through the sudden emotion, trying to ease them down. "I'm okay"
"Are you crying?"
"No"
"You are"
"I'm really not"
The hunter snorted, teasing and fond all at once. "You're absolutely crying"
"I'm not crying" You insisted, wiping quickly at your eyes. "You idiots just emotionally ambushed me"
"That's fair" Dean admitted, Castiel nodding in agreement.
Before you knew it, all three of you were laughingâ the tension melted away completely. For the first time all day (for the first time in months if yâall were honest) you felt light. Dean wrapped an arm around your shoulders, the angel immediately moved closer to your other side. Neither seemed willing to let goâ not that you were complaining⊠Dean pressed a kiss to your temple, Castiel pressed one to your cheek.
You couldn't help smiling at their little back-and-forth. "Showoffs"
"Absolutely" The blonde retorted without any shame.
"Iâm not sure what that means" The angel murmured, soft and gravelly under his breath.
"It means you're both ridiculous"
Dean's grin widened. "Yeah, but we're your ridiculous boyfriends"
The warmth that spread through your chest was immediate and overwhelming. You rolled your eyes. "Yâknow, hearing that would've been useful information a few months ago"
Castiel looked genuinely thoughtful, nodding along. "I agree"
"There you go" You said, pointing at him. "See? Cas gets it"
The hunter groaned dramatically. "Oh, mânever living this down, am I?"
"Not a chance"
Dean sighed heavily before smiling. And surrounded by the people you loved most in the world, held securely between them, you found yourself smiling too. Maybe all three of you were idiots. Actually, noâ definitely. But at least now you could be idiots together.
Older Family Friend!Castiel who doesnât care that youâre overly affectionate with him. Heâll let you throw your legs over his lap, hug his arm, drink from his beer, and wear his coat while he talks to the fire pit about how his morning church services went.
Itâs just a you thing, right?
Heâll let you drag him to the roof of your familyâs barn to stargaze and complain about undergrad or boy troubles. Heâll even let you ask about where he bought his belt buckle and heâll tell you, your fingers grazing the polished metal wings as you wonder what heâd let you do if you asked to take it off.
â requested by pookie bear @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger
froggi yaps -> these have been kicking my ass for dayssss i'm so happy to finally have finished them :,) wade & logan were kind of hard to do since i've already done this prompt w them but still wanted them to be included. enjoy!
Logan Howlett:
Logan likes to pretend like he isnât the jealous type, despite him being the most possessive man alive. Youâre his, and only his, and heâll make damn well sure everyone knows it. His scent is definitely all over you.
If anyone is getting a little too close to you for his likingâmaking you laugh too much, maybe getting a little touchyâLogan is on his feet in an instant, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist.Â
Maybe gets a little too handsy, hands travelling lower to cup your butt, canines grazing the side of your neck. He wonât say anything, heâll just loom there so incredibly ominously until whoever was with you gets the message and leaves.
âLogan,â you warn.
He just grunts, âyouâre mine, you know that?â
And you sigh, suddenly weak in the knees, and nod along to his words. He keeps you extra close afterwards, usually sitting you in his lap and looking sideways at anyone who so much as glances your way.
Wade Wilson:
Wade is absolutely the jealous type but it takes a lot to actually get him going, and when he does, he hides his insecurity behind humour and substances. Still, it gets the best of him sometimes and he just canât help it.
If someoneâs flirting with you, heâs inserting himself into the situation immediately. Heâll sidle up next to you, prop an arm on your shoulder and grin at whoever youâre talking to.
âExcuse us for a moment.â
He wonât even give you a chance before heâs pulling you in for a bruising kiss, tongue swiping along the backs of your teeth. His hands roam your sides, maybe cheekily pinching your butt.Â
You pull away gasping, hands on his chest. âWade!â
âWhat?â He grins goofily, âI couldnât help it, you look so fuckable.â
Kurt Wagner:
Kurtâs not really the jealous type, and when he is jealous, he just gets sad. Heâll watch someone else hit on you and wonder if heâs enough, if you would prefer someone less blue.
Heâll go quiet for a while, maybe get a little distant while he thinks it over. He does his best to reassure himself, remind himself that you love him and you donât want anyone else, but it only gets him so far.
Finally, heâll cave and come to you, dropping to his knees and pressing his face into your stomach. You rest a hand on the back of his head, tilting yours to the side, âKurt, baby, is everything alright?â
He sighs, words muffled by the fabric of your shirt. His words all come out in one big jumble, each one mumbled and bleeding into the next. Still, you get the gist of it: heâs feeling insecure, and he wants to know if youâd be happier with someone else.
You blink, stunned. âOf course not,â you frown.Â
âReally?â He pulls away, looking up at you with wide eyes.
âYes, really.â You reach for his hands, helping him to his feet, âcâmere, silly.â
And Kurt sighs, letting you pull him in for a kiss.
Scott Summers:
Scott either gets really quiet or really arrogant when heâs jealous.
Heâs analyzing the situation, watching you talk with a friend. Heâs focused on the way they get a little too close, the subtle contact they make on your arm, the way your smile changes ever so slightly.
When he canât take it anymore, heâs sidling up to you and throwing an arm around your shoulders. âHey, doll.â
Heâll plant a sloppy kiss to your lips, lingering just a little too long until whoeverâs talking to you gets the message. If heâs feeling extra devious, heâs making a snide comment.
You smack his bicep once theyâre out of earshot. âReally?â
âWhat?â He smiles, feigning innocence, âI just missed you.â
Remy LeBeau:
Remy is so clingy when heâs in love with you so itâs only natural heâd be jealous too. But not the angry jealous type, no, Remy gets sad when heâs jealous.
Someone comes up to flirt with you while youâre at the bar and heâs sitting in the corner pouting, nursing his drink and watching. Someone calls you cute right in front of him and heâs not letting it go for the rest of the day.
âOh thatâs cute of you.â âMhm, yeah, trĂšs mignon.â
However, if someone gets handsy with you, Remyâs on his feet in an instant, cards in hand. Is it too far? Maybe, but he doesnât care.
âThis guy bothering you, amour?â
You take a step back into Remy, letting him wrap an arm around you. âYes,â you say quietly.
Thatâs all he needs to hear before heâs sizing him up and sending him on the way, hand clenched around the desk of cards in his palm.
Warren Worthington III:
Warrenâs jealousy is a lot more low key, but itâs definitely there. He shrugs it off and pretends like he doesnât care but inside, heâs in shambles. The minute someone else tries to flirt with you, heâs at your side, wrapping an arm around you and leaning his head on your shoulder.Â
He smiles but thereâs no humour behind it as he stares down whoeverâs coming onto you.
Sometimes, if heâs been drinking a little or youâre in a safe space for mutants, heâll even go as far as to wrap his wings around you, creating a shield between you and the other person. You roll your eyes, turning to face him in the trap of wings heâs created for you.
âBaby?â
âHm?â His jaw is clenched but his eyes are soft when they find yours.
âCan you let me go?â
He tilts his head down, wings ushering you closer to him for a slow and soft kiss. âNo.â
Piotr Rasputin:
Heâs not really a jealous person to begin with. He knows youâre his and he trusts you enough to believe youâd never do anything behind your back. The rare times he does get jealous is when someone is doing something for you that he could do.
Someone else holds the door? His brows are knitting together. Someone lifts something heavy for you? Heâs frowning for the next hour and a half. Heâs your partner, he should be the one doing all that for you. Heâll spend the next few hours trying to show off, flexing his muscles and doing everything for you.Â
He gets a little sad when heâs jealous, too. Is he not enough for you, would you rather be with someone like that? As secure as he likes to think he is, that all melts away in the face of jealousy.
Finally, heâll come to you, tail between his legs. âDo I make you feel loved?â
You blink, looking up from your book. âOf course you do.â
âReally?â
You dogear the page altogether, putting it down to look at him properly. His lips are pursed in a frown, eyes big and wide with emotions. You rise to your feet, placing your hands on either bicep.
âWhatâs this about, Petey?â
He sighs and admits to his jealousy, head hung low in shame. Itâs only when you cup his cheek and force him to look at you, planting a soft kiss to his lips, that he starts to feel like himself again.
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thanks for reading & have a wonderful weekend /á > Ë <ă âËâčâĄ
d.winchester x possessive!fem!reader âź suggestive content âź (slightly) toxic behavior from reader âź subby!dean âź hickeys âź no use of y/n âź reader's appearance is not detailed
"I don't see why you have to do this." Dean mumbles, words barely audible.
He sits down on the edge of the motel bed as you had just instructed. The mattress dips beneath his weight, creaking softly as he gets himself comfortable. The collar of his jacket was already being moved by his fingers for you.
For someone protesting against it, he's quick to do as you say.
"You know why." Your words are tinged with a hint of annoyance. It was the same conversation each time you went out to a bar with him. "Some girls just can't keep their eyes to themselves."
Dean should have half a mind to find your jealousy seeped words to be off-putting. But, for whatever twisted reason, he can't. It's attractive. For someone to be so protective of himâ ready to fight for him in the same way he would for anyone else. He liked being wanted.
His breath catches in his throat, Your fingers grasp onto his jaw, thumb and pointer digging into the soft flesh of his cheeks. His gaze snaps up to watch you leaning down. A haze glosses over his eyes. It's the same look he gets when he's beneath you, withering against your loving hands.
"You know I don't like to share." Your voice has dropped an octave, barely a whisper.
A shiver runs down Dean's spine. Being yours. Something you didn't want to shareâ to have all to yourself. Dean revealed in it.
A hum is muffled by your tight grip on his cheeks.
He lets you guide his head to the side, exposing the expanse of his neck. Soft skin that was littered with fading marks. Marks you had taken delicate time to leave on him. The fading purple mark against his pulse point was shaped like a heart. You'd have to renew that one. It was the prettiest.
"Please." Dean's muffled whine spills from his mouth, the word sounding slurred.
A smirk fights to tug the corner of your mouth upwards. From protesting to begging for it. Dean really was a walking contradictionâ not that you'd ever complain. Watching him squirm for you was a Heavenly sight.
"Stay still f'me, baby."
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Itâs late at night, and you accidentally pray to Cas wishing there was someone to cuddle with.
The hunting life could get lonely, but for the most part you ignored the gaping feeling your chest, because that was just a part of the job. But at times like these, you really needed some sort of physical touch. Or at the least, someone elseâs warmth to soak up.
It was summer in Ohio, and sun soaked through the dusty motel room window all afternoon. Now, twilight had emerged and you were home late again, covered in blood and dirt.
After a quick and unpleasantly cold shower, you changed and tucked yourself into bed. You tried counting sheep, identifying the noises of animals and trees whistling outside, but nothing was shutting your mind down. Not until you got what you needed.
You shivered against the covers, twisting and turning your body to find that perfect warm spot. But after what felt like two hours, you never did, and you were still wide awake.
You thought about the people in your life, the people who would make you coffee right now. Who would tell you stories know matter how long it took for your eyes to fall shut. But your mind only landed on one person, or rather, an angel.
Cas.
Your mind whispered his name. You yearned for him in that bed. For his constant warmth, eyes that would understanding everything even if you said nothing. It caused a pit to form in your stomach, because Cas wasnât here. No matter how much you searched in the walls or in between the sheets for him, his familiar outline wouldnât be there, waiting, head tilted, in the darkness.
Cas, Cas, Castiel.
There was a ruffle of feathers, you shifted around, think you had imagined it. Until a gruff voice spoke a loud in the silent room.
âHello Y/Nâ You sit up immediately, and there he is.
âCas?â
This is happening, heâs here.
âWhy are you here?â He looks the same as always.
âYou prayed to meâ His voice is so gentle.
You canât think of anything to say, any way to explain yourself. What if he finds no purpose in this and decides to leave?
âI think Iâve evolved past that Y/Nâ He really can read minds.
He glances down at the empty spot next to you, then meets your eyes.
âMay I?â Cas gestures towards the bed.
âYeahâ You whisper.
You canât help but watch as the angel removes his trench coat and suit jacket, folding them with care and joining you under the covers. You can already feel the celestial warmth radiating off of his pale skin.
Cas just lays there at first, staring at the ceiling, possibly the stars. You turn your head to look at him, is he blushing?
His dark hair looks pretty, sprawled all over the contrasting white of the pillow. You turns to look at you, and scoots himself closer, you flush.
âIâve been told humans enjoy each otherâs warmth. Would you be okay if I gave you mine?â
He can already see the answer in your eyes.
âIâd like that Casâ He seems to like hearing his own name from your mouth.
His face is suddenly close to yours as you feel big arms wrap around you from behind. His chest presses against your back, forehead tucked in the crevice of your shoulder. His breath is hot on your neck, stubble rubbing against your skin.
Heâs so warm. The angel smells like a tropical forest after it rains. Any emptiness you felt is gone now. Completely replaced by the angel who is now spooning you, whose grace warms you with its delicate fingers.
âïœĄđŠč°â§â Ben might gloat otherwise, but he's a sucker for missionary. Heâll frame your face with his hands and kiss you between slow, deep thrusts. "That must feel fucking amazing," heâll chuckle, his thumb wiping a stray tear of pleasure from your cheek. "Alright, lean into me, come on."
âïœĄđŠč°â§â He gets hot for a tight, face-to-face spooning position. Heâll pull you against his chest, wrapping his arm completely around you so youâre tucked perfectly under his chin. Your leg splays over his waist, and his hand gropes at the back of your thigh. Itâs lazy, intimate, and allows for his sugar-talking in your ear while he pumps into you steadily.
âïœĄđŠč°â§â When you're feeling high energy, he loves when you straddle him while heâs propped up against the headboard. He keeps his hands at your waist, guiding the frantic roll of your hips and becomes intoxicated by your expressions. Push him down flat on the bed and reverse... he's a lucky man.
âïœĄđŠč°â§â Afterward, he won't let you slide away. He pulls you against his chest and winds his legs around yours to keep you at his side. "Fucking masterful," heâll mutter sleepily, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder.
summary; butcher is suffering from the side affects of temp v. you're the only one that gives enough fucks about him to do something.
word count; 902
pairing; butcher x fem!reader
this is my first ever the boys one shot! pls be kind and pls no spoilers (midway through s3)`âĄÂŽ
â§ Ë ă· ăă .
Butcher isnât affectionate.
Everyone whoâs ever known Butcher knows this. Hell, his main form of affection is calling you a cunt with a cheeky smirk plastered on his face.
Youâve noticed that heâs been acting off lately. Ever since he lost Becca, heâs become careless, more than usual. His words are sharp and powerful, and if you didnât do as he says, you know youâre in for it.
Yourself, Frenchie and Hughie are going through an elaborate plan to stop Homelander, whilst Kimiko sits with her headphones in. âExcuse me,â Butcher gets up from his seat, hurriedly making his way to the bathroom. Your eyebrows cross, shooting Frenchie and Hughie a look.
Heâs done this too many times recently, and all he says is that heâs fine. Heâs always fine. Butcher never wants anyone to worry about him, but thatâs all you can do. Thereâs something horribly wrong with him.
Hughie shrugs it off, but you canât shake the feeling that he needs someone there with him. âIâm gonna go check on him.â You get up, leaving the boys to figure out a solution between themselves. You quietly knock on the door of the bathroom, a rough grunt emerging from the other side. âGo away, Hughie,â he huffs, and you sigh. âItâs Y/N.â
Heâs silent.
âCan I come in?â you turn the handle slowly, the door creaking lightly, the rusted hinges make the door vibrate quietly. Butcher looks up at you, defeated. His eyes are full of hurt and annoyance. You purse your lips.
âWhat have you done?â You shut the door behind you, crouching down to his level. Heâs sat with his arm resting on the toilet seat, his big, leather jacket enveloping him. His hair is wild and his beard untamely. He probably feels just how he looks.
âNothinâ, sweetheart. Now, leave me alone, would you?â He spits, and you donât budge. âButcher,â you eye him. âWhat have you done?â You repeat, sliding your back down the wall and sitting on the floor opposite him. He looks away from you, clenching his jaw. You can sense the frustration build up in him, yet itâs all his fault. Glancing up at the countertop, you notice a needle, a tiny glass container, and a belt on the floor beside him. Piecing the puzzle together, heâs taking V.
Butcher is watching you go through every possibility that you have in your mind, the way your eyes are scanning over everything and analysing exactly what heâs done. Your eyes widen before meeting his. He chuckles. âYouâve taken V.â You huff, and he brushes it off.
You sit up properly, crossing your legs, hunching over. âYouâre fucking taking V. What the fuck is wrong with you?â You yell at him, and he hushes you. âNot too loud. The Boys donât know about it.â
âWell, no shit!â You quickly get up to examine the small tube, a green tinge barely noticeable. âThat isnât compound V,â he starts, âItâs temp V.â
You shoot a glare at him. âIt makes you a Supe for 24 hours. Nothinâ crazy.â
âYeah, like that makes it better. Where did you get this?â
âWouldnât you like to know, weather boy?â
Heâs snarky and damn well funny, but you donât make a sound. Butcher freezes in position before throwing up in the toilet.
Itâs green. Radioactive green. Smooth, too. You canât help but look at it, how this poison is ruining him. Rushing to his side, you rub his back and aid him as much as you possibly can. You reach over for some toilet paper, ripping some off so you can wipe his mouth. âYou okay?â You ask him, sincerity in your tone. He grunts, his eyes remaining closed. His head rests atop his hand thatâs still over the toilet seat, and you use the back of your hand to check his temperature on his forehead. âYouâre burning up.â You sigh, and he doesnât respond.
âButcher?â panic starts in your voice, but you keep the volume to a minimum. You push him back toward the wall as he lays half conscious, attempting to take his jacket off to help cool him down. Standing up, you rapidly search the room for some sort of cup, container, anything. When you find a plastic cup, you pour him some cold water and wipe a little across his forehead. Butcher eventually comes round, groaning and eyelids flickering. âHere,â you guide the cup toward his mouth, and he reluctantly takes a few sips. He looks at you, his eyebrows scrunched together, that typical mean-guy look he shoots at everyone. You place the cup on the counter, sitting back down in front of him. âYou tell anyone,â he breathes heavily, âand I mean anyone about this, youâre fuckinâ dead, yeah?â he threatens, and you shake your head.
âThreaten me all you want, Butcher, but this is your problem. My mouth is zipped.â You smile at him, and he chuckles. âThat a girl.â
When you exit the bathroom, Hughie turns his head to you. You nod at him, and Butcher follows close behind you.
âAre you alright, Monsieur Charcutier?â Frenchie speaks up, nodding his head.
âHeâs got food poisoning, thatâs all.â You lie, looking back at Butcher, whoâs unable to hide his smile. He leans close to your ear.
âThank you, sweetheart.â he mutters, his rough, hushed voice makes your stomach flutter.
intertwined â soulless sam x soulless fem!reader
summary : after you both lost your souls fighting lucifer and michael, coming back changed your relationship completely. from the lovey-dovey couple to one who fights to push each others buttons.
warning possessive language, toxic relationship, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, brief oral f!receiving word count 1.6k
you and sam were dating before the whole apocalypse mess. when lucifer possessed sam, there wasnât a chance that youâd leave him alone.
you jumped right in the pit along with him, pushing michael in at the same time.
but hell didnât last too long, the same night you and sam were pulled right out.
you werenât sure who had done it, but you knew you werenât the same. both of you decided not to tell dean, leave him happy with lisa while the two of you continued hunting.
as time went on, you noticed how your relationship dynamic changed drastically.
you went from the loveliest couple, constantly caring, and scared to death of each other getting hurt to ruthless hunters, without a care for each other's life, and passionate destruction.
and thatâs when the competitions started, something you initiated during a random hunt.
before, to get information, youâd always find a way around flirting, but now since you couldnât care, you thought you'd used it to your advantage.
with sam watching, you made your way across the bar, swaying your hips in a skirt that left little to the imagination.
you pried information out of the poor young man in front of you, fingers tracing his arm before moving to his thigh, then whispering in his ear.
sam was livid, but it wasnât out of care for you, it was because you were his.
he heavily contemplated beating the daylights out of him, but you ended the conversation before he could. pressing a kiss to the manâs cheek and making your way back to sam.
âwhat the fuck was that?â sam gritted, fists balled by his sides.
you smiled sweetly, âjust gettin information baby, way faster than usual. canât you see thatâs more effective?â he took a pause, thinking over the usual process and decided you were right.
but the next hunt, it was him flirting with another girl instead. it made you just as mad, given that any girl would throw herself at the chance, he made it so much worse.
his knee sliding between her thighs, hands brushing her hair, lips ghosting over her ear.
he took long strides to you afterwards, smug look on his face before saying âway more effective.â
this weekâs hunt was no different, except you both were playing the same game.
in the morning he watched you shamelessly flirt with the mortician for an early autopsy and file access without formal permission.
he watched how the guy ogled at your ass in those tight dress pants you always wore. his knuckles turned white by his side before you both left.
a bit later, you saw sam entertain the needy witnesses' advantages. college girls who instantly got glued to the bulky FBI agent who offered his fake sympathy.
you rolled your eyes at the obnoxiousness, watching sam smile with all teeth for the young girls before heading out.
before the night wrapped up, you suggested trying the bar for more info.
sam knew what you were doing, you were trying to win.
heâd let it slide, watching you do your usual antics. until he watched when you put your hand on another manâs bulge.
sam was by your side in a second, âalright thatâs enough.â he gritted before dragging you outside, fingertips digging into your arm.
getting in his dodge charger, you smiled to yourself before he slammed the driver door.
âthink youâre real fucking funny huh?â he said, gripping the life out of the steering wheel. you shrugged as he pulled off, not caring about his speed.
âdoin the most for some random fuckinâ guy, but he doesnât get to have you. only i do.â he went on, rambling mainly to himself, but his words made you smile.
his possessiveness turned you on. it was impossible not to, his furrowed brow, tight jaw, veins popping out on his forehead and arms. he looked edible.
he sped off to the motel, walking fast to the room as you followed behind.
as soon as the locks turned on that motel door, he was on you.
hands roaming your entire body, as you tore his clothes off. he was so fucking fit.
the back to back hunting without rest made him absolutely jacked, and you loved it.
samâs hands went around your back and unclasped your bra, calloused fingers taking up space on your bare body, bringing your shirt along with it.
you had no time for the usual make out and grinding, before all your clothes were tossed on the ground. he was already rushing you to the cheap motel bed.
you laid on your back, hair falling over the pillow as he towered over you. you noticed how his cock stood against his stomach, hard and leaking with his tip flushed and needy.
you wanted it inside badly, neither of you cared about protection, it felt so much better, feeling every ridge of him.
he leaned down to press wet kisses all over your body, sucking in visible places; your jaw, under your chin and on your neck, making sure to leave a mark.
you sighed, hand making its way to his grown out hair. tangling and gripping, he grunted at the feeling.
âmine,â as he kissed down your collarbone, âperfect fuckinâ body,â another kiss above your breast, âall fâ me.â before taking your nipple into his mouth.
you whined as his tongue swirled around the bud, sucking with closed eyes before he let it go with a soft bite.
he made his way down your body, sole purpose of this being to mark you, not to pleasure you.
he sucked marks into your inner thighs, before taking a breath at the sight of your wetness.
he wasted no time, spreading your folds apart with a long lick, savoring the taste before latching right where you needed him.
you moaned high, eyes shutting as he ate you like a man starved. noises flooded the room as he sucked and slurped, your back arching til he lifted off you.
before sam would devote himself to your pleasure, eating you out was his greatest joy and sometimes he came right in his boxers from it.
but this sam was different, he only did things for himself, and he only did this cause he enjoyed the taste of you.
sam came up to kiss you, tongue pushing into your mouth without permission.
you tasted yourself on him, moaning into his mouth before his hand moved to his cock.
he didn't bother teasing, rubbing his tip between your folds briefly before pressing into you and stretching you apart.
your hands flew to his arms as he sunk in, âfuckââ his head flew back, âso tight, suckin me right in.â he whined, eyes squeezing open and shut.
you turned your face to the side, soft gasps as he filled you entirely. he didn't let either of you settle before he set a pace, it wasnât brutal but it wasnât sweet.
the sounds of skin slapping was heard along with your uncontained noises as he wrecked you. âfuck sam!â you moaned,
both of you didnât care about how loud you were being, or to get a noise complaint.
your nails dug crescents into his biceps, long cock pulling out fully before slamming back in. it took the air put yours lungs, but it felt perfect.
âno one fucks you this good huh baby?â sam groaned, head falling to rest in the crook of your neck.
ânoâno one.â you whined, bodies completely slick and glistening as he kept his speed.
âsay it.â he gritted, breath fanning on your skin, right hand rubbing your waist.
you moaned, breathe hiccuping slightly before you could speak, âonly you sam, only you make me feel good.â
he made a strangled noise, lifting up to change the pace.
your eyes immediately rolled when he hit faster and deeper, moans spilling out both of your mouths desperately.
it didnât matter that you didn't believe the possessive shit he made you say, if it meant heâd fuck you that good? youâd say anything he wanted.
but it was true, no guy did it like him, you don't think anyone ever could. no one else deserved him.
âpussyâs mine, look how much she wants me, keeps sucking me right in.â he babbled, barely audible with the sounds of your bodies connecting.
you whined, clenching around him, and watching his thrusts falter as he moaned again.
you wrapped your legs around his back, pulling him closer with a force that made you both whine.
he was impossibly deep, bulge showing faintly on your stomach,
your eyes rolled back as his pace became more frantic. âfuck sam! donât stop, donât stop!â
you pulled him closer, hands gripping him, his pace becoming uneven before he moaned loudly, stopping at the hilt as his cum spilled into you.
a warm sensation flooded your walls while he picked the speed back up. this sam didnât need time to recover, in fact you both could go on for hours.
you almost drooled at how good it was, breasts rippling every time he pounded into you.
âcmon, baby, want you to cum on my cock,â he cooed, sounds getting wetter and louder before it took you over the edge.
you moaned high in your throat, mouth wide and eyes shut as he fucked you through it. you clenched around him hard, so hard that he came inside you again.
you gasped, you felt incredibly full. his skin stuck to yours, the quiet taking over when the bed finally stopped shaking.
sam groaned before slumping on top of you, his spend still leaking out around his softening cock.
a quiet spill of whines fell from his lips as his head buried into your neck, dick still twitching inside as you pulsed around him.
the way he fucked was animalistic, making sure every thrust was as deep as the last, filling you to the brim every time.
soulless or not, you guys were always made for each other.
sometimes he just had to remind you, and other times youâd remind him.
A/N WOW! i dont know how i feel about this because this type of possessive fic and language is something i've never explored before!! i hope i did your idea justice đ„č the last line kinda opens up to the potential part two where soulless reader takes control so sub!soulless sam almost??? phew idk!! reblogs & comments are so appreciated!
I, I don't know what to say- except, of course, if you were willing to write a part 2 I would adore it!!! You know I love my subby Sammy and I'd love to see your take on it when he's soulless!!
But this is just- my god. It's so fucking good but part of me really wishes I didn't read it before my course bc idk if I'll be able to focus lol (idrc it was worth it!!)
Summary: Becky canât seem to keep her hands to herself, Sam gets turned on by your not jealousy.
Warnings: smut, Becky
An: finally a Sam smut again⊠idk whatâs in the air but Iâve been feral for this man real bad for like three days and this came out of it so whoâs complaining?
WC: 2.1k - Sam masterlist
âItâs like heâs made of marble or somethingâ Becky said groping Samâs bicep.
You harshly slapped her hand away from him, moving between her and Sam âyeah well that marble made man is mine, and if you touch him again Iâll cut your hands offâ you gave her a bitchy smile to which she responded with nothing more than a sour glare.
Sam placed a hand on your hip pulling you farther away from Becky, her prying hands, and annoying glare.
Dean then tries and fails to divert Beckyâs attention away from Sam. Her eyes stayed glued on you and Sam where he had pulled you onto his lap, placing one of his warm, large hands on your thigh.
Even after the blatant claim of person that Sam himself made, Becky didnât stop.
In fact she got worse.
She cut a strip of Samâs hair, and when it came time to break up in teams she refused to go with Dean, claiming that âsomething was calling me to Samâ
Your absolute, and very last straw was after Sam had convinced you to go with Dean just this one time, sealing your goodby with a very heated and intense kiss that said nothing less than âmineâ, you went your separate ways.
You and Dean
Sam and BeckyâŠ
You didnât make a big fuss about it. Not in front of Dean, not so heâd have teasing material later after your attitude wore off.
Neither of you had found much of anything, so when you decided to go find Sam and Becky and found them in the middle of a heated conversation you wasted no time intervening.
âWhatâs going on?â You questioned, arms crossed, tone laced with suspicion.
Sam and Becky froze. Becky in fear, Sam in worry. You tilted your head, looking at both of them expectantly. Sam looked at Dean, as if trying to communicate something, of course you being you, you understood perfectly.
Before he could grab her you stepped towards Becky who cowardly whimpered in her spot.
âSamâ you said warning.
He looked around purposefully avoiding your gaze. He then moved towards you, and led you a bit away from Becky.
âDonât kill her okay sheâs-â
âWhat. Happened.â you cut him off not caring to hear anything but what happened. Sam licked his lips, glancing behind you before sighing.
âBecky⊠kissed meâ
Your expression blanked. Your eyes met he worried green ones âdid you kiss her back?â You questioned. It was stupid Sam would never cheat on you but the possessive nature in you had taken over completely.
His face scrunched in⊠disgust? âWha- honey no I would never- noâ Sam said firmly. You clicked your tongue, nodding. A sign of belief.
Sam relaxed a split second of relief filling him, quickly leaving when you turned towards where Dean and Becky had been watching silently. âDeanâ you said
âHmm?â he hummed with wide, curious eyes.
âDo me a huge favor and turn around pleaseâ
âBut-â
âDeanâ
âIâm turningâ he said as he begrudgingly turned around.
Your eyes landed on Becky, âwatch closely since your thick scull refuses to use its common senseâ you smile before turning to Sam, your eyes became lidded as you looked at your man possessively. Your hands moved under his shirt, trailing your fingers across his skin.
His muscles tensed under your touch, you could hear Samâs breath catch, whispering your name.
âKiss me honeyâ you mutter to him. He does just that, tongue immediately invading your mouth, dancing with your own like he needed to devour you whole. His heart beats heavily in his chest under the touch of your hand. He groans gently-
âIf you two are doing what I think you are, I donât know whether to be proud or disgusted.â Deans voice trails off sounding more disgusted as his sentence goes on.
You and Sam break away from each other, a line of spit connecting your mouths. Sam licks his lips, looking at you with hooded eyes âthat was-â
âProof-â you turn to Becky â that Sam Winchester is mine. No matter what you convince yourself, no matter whatever deluded plan you get to take him away from me he will always be mineâ you smile cockily.
Becky was all but furious, knuckles white from how tight she was gripping her flashlight. She pursed her lips âSam Winchester will be mine! You mark my words.â She promised pointing her creepily long finger at you.
You smirked âgoodnight Beckyâ
She shrieked, turning around dramatically whipping her hair she ran walked away.
âYou can turn around now Deanâ Sam clears his throat.
Dean turned around, eyes following Becky for a second before turning to you and Sam, looking back and forth between you two. You smirk victoriously and sam refuses to make eye contact with his brother.
âI donât even wanna knowâ he said before walking away.
You look at Sam, smirk never faltering. He smiles âyou know you just crushed her spirit, right?â He asked, not sounding like he cared at all.
âI donât care, she brought it upon herself. Besides that was hot, wasnât it?â You tilt your head, biting your lip.
He huffs a laugh in response.
 Later that night you stood in front of the bathroom mirror because before you could get completely dressed, your mind wandered else where, still reeling from⊠you wouldnât call it jealousy, you know Sam is yours. Sam sure as hell knows that. But so did Becky and it didnât stop her.
You couldn't believe the nerve of her, nor could you believe that she had walked out of the place without a scratch. You wanted to tear every limb from her body for disrespecting you, but more so Sam.
The groping, the kiss, it all pissed you off that she felt it was okay to do that to Sam. It angered you that even after that kiss, you in his lap, you staking the claim on him that she even tried to pry him from you.
 The feeling of hands around your waist startled you out of your thoughts. Once your attention turned back to the mirror you noticed Sam behind you⊠tall⊠sexy⊠and shirtless.
 You've been with Sam for a while and he's grown, not taller no. Sam is huge. Two hundred and fifteen pounds of pure fucking muscle and it never fails to amaze and arouse you.
 You push away the invading thoughts as you lean into his body. "You feeling better?" He asked softly, in the way that was only reserved for you.
You nod, before pausing. You turn to face him, looking up at him with guilty eyes "if I, overstepped earlier I'm sorry-"
 Sam snorted "honey it's fine you didn't do anything wrong"
 "I used you to-"
"To set an example. She overstepped, not you. But⊠can I tell you a secret?" His voice lowered a few octaves.
You nodded, hands moving to caress his shoulders.
"I loved it, the way you staked your claim, I mean. It was just- god it was so fucking hot honey" his hands tightened a fraction on your waist pulling you flush against his front, giving you a feel of the not so subtle boner growing underneath his sweats.
 "Really" you question, lips upturning proudly.
"God you have no idea, I've been aching for you all day baby, please let me have you."he pleaded, eyes lidded.
 "You can have whatever you want from me Sam" you tell him, he groans head tilting back.
Suddenly you're being lifted off the floor "'m takin you to bed honey. Gonna make you forget all about what's her name" He promised
 You couldn't lie and say the diss against Becky didn't make you all the more desperate for the man because the evidence was in your panties.
 Sam places you comfortably on the bed, wasting no time and crawling over you. "God you're so beautiful, I can't-" he kissed your bare inner thigh "can barley focus around you" he muttered into your heated skin.
 You can feel your own growing wetness between your thighs, even as Sam shifts higher towards where you need him the most.
 "You were so sexy today baby, and to think you were hiding this-" he pulls the waistband of your panties and let it go, letting the elastic nip your skin. Your core tightened and you fight back a whimper "Sam I need you"
 He kisses your thigh "I know honey"
Then higher "you'll have me"
He kisses your panty covered pussy "you'll have all of me"
Your belly "just need-" his hand creeps around your back, expertly unhooking the strap of your bra, pulling it off and tossing it.
 He groaned, head tilting into your stomach, causing his beautiful locks to fall forward covering his face from your view.
 You feel another kiss to your stomach "just need to appreciate you first" he repeats gently as if trying to ground himself.
 You run your hand through his hair in attempts to see his pretty face again, you don't fail to notice how his hips have been grinding against the bed, the sight making you moan.
"Honey I need you to fuck me. Please" you begged moving your hips to meet his.
 He gives in, he takes off his sweatpants, cock immediately springing free and your cunt quivers with need "it's all yours honey" he reminds you with a small smirk, not missing the way you ogle at his size.
Your eyes move from his cock to his face 'cocky bastard' you thought to yourself. "Promise" you tilt your head teasingly.
His smirk widened pulling you from your laying position, up into his lap.
 You feel his length against your clothed cunt and resist no further, your hips moved with a mind of their own, finally giving you some of the relief only Sam could bring. He groaned below you, jaw clenching "Christ, honey you're it for me I swear it. You're all I need." He muttered as he kissed along your shoulder. You moaned at the feeling, every kiss and every touch of his skin to yours made your body feel hot wired. Your hips never faltered.
 "Can I put it in? Please Sam you're killing me" you pleaded, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. Sam let out a heavy breath against your lips, his forehead pressed to yours "go ahead"
 You didn't waste time taking your parties off, instead you slipped them to the side, taking hold of Sam's cock and stroking a few times, he grabs your hips, squeezing tight as he groaned.
 Finally you lined him up with your entrance, making sure to cover him in your slick, before you sunk down, gasping at the stretch tha you have yet to get used to.
"Fucking hell- sammy" you moaned sealing your lips with his as your fingers tangle in his hair.
 His hands roam your body needily, tongue dancing with his. Both of your hips move with practiced precision, years of practice and love coming to surface all at once.
 "look at you, so fucking beautiful riding me like that" he huffs, teeth nipping at your nipples, you flutter around him at the praise.
 "You can't- fuck. You can't talk like that Sammy you know- y'gonna make me cum too fast"
 Sam shakes his head, blissed out by the feel of you "can't help it, look at you- can't believe I get to have you"
 You could feel your release rising in your core. Sam immediately picked up on the way your hips faltered just barley "y'close honey?" He asks, kissing your neck.
 You whimper in confirmation, grabbing his biceps to stablize yourself. Sam smirks "me too, cum with me baby, let me feel how good I make you feel" he says through clenched teeth.
His hand wanders down south to your clit, circling with precision.
"Ah- fuck" your hips pick up pace as you pull yourself flat against Sam's body, needing to feel all of him. He holds you steady "come on honey, let go" he urges in your ear.
Your most seized breath as your release crashed through you. Sam kept thrusting, leading you all the way through "breathe" he reminded you.
 His movements only faultered when his release finally arrived, adding to the pressure in your core. Sam held you close, twitching and filling you with his spend.
 As your orgasms wash away, your hearts beat as one, Sam kisses your forehead, you hum.
 "that was fun" you murmur. Sam chuckles, gently laying you down as he pulls out, both of you hissing at the overstimulation.
 "Think Becky could keep up with that?" You question as he moves to the bathroom to grab a towelette to clean you up.
 He peeks is head through the door, expression confused, with a hint of mischief, "who's becky?"
 You couldn't help the tired laugh that slipped past your lips.
 Oh Sam Winchester. How he would be the death of you.
thinking about fluff dean winchester playing with your hair while youâre asleep on the backseat of the impala. him kissing your forehead with tiny, soft pecks and talking about his day even though you canât hear any of it. but he loves seeing the calmness on your face as you sleep, head onto his shoulder. he feels like protecting you, even though you are far away in the arms of morpheus. dean brushing his thumb against the softness of your skin, memorizing every single detail of your face; your long eyelashes, the color of your lips, the structure of your cheekbones.
he feels calm and comfortable for once; not having to think about anything else but the person he loves sleeping in his arms. here, in the impala, itâs home. itâs warmth and love and safety. this is what he wants for you, to feel safe around him. because dean wants to make sure you know that heâd always protect youâeven in your sleep. because he wonât let go of this, of your love. he loves you and want just the best for you. and the best is you sleeping in his arms, unaware of how much he loves you back.
This is partly your fault. Since youâve been datingâhonestly, and before letâs not pretendâyouâve used his tie as a personal leash. Fingers gently wrapped around the fabric and tugging him along with you.
He doesnât let you see, but thereâs always a stupid grin on his face when you do it. Sam doesnât care if youâre dragging him to a new location or if youâre dragging him in for a kiss.
His favorite, though, is when youâre dragging him into your orbit. Just keeping him close to you. It makes him feel all fuzzy, his mind turning into something like mush. Heâll whine if you keep him waiting for a kiss too long!!
contents & disclaimers: puppy dog sam(?), clingy sweetheart sam, not set in any particular season, fluff, intended lowercase, cheesy writing, suggestive themes, not proofread
a/n: i wrote this while listening to this, ive been thinking of this concept since his bday, also this is slightly inspired by a post i saw a while ago but i seriously do not remember what it was called, also this took me hours. sigh
sleepy!sam who hugs you from behind and tucks his face into your shoulder when he's tired
sleepy!sam who is really freaking warm.. making him perfect to nap with! :D
sleepy!sam who loves it when you let him nap with his head on your chest and you play with his hair
sleepy!sam who chronically drools, and is self-conscious of the fact
sleepy!sam who is the most adorable guy when he wakes up
sleepy!sam who (despite being sleepy) either needs 900 mg of caffeine to stay awake or 900 mg of melatonin to stay asleep, there's no in between
when sam wasn't getting up you smacked his ass to get him up and moving and he was pissed at you for the rest of the week.. lol
when sam was sleeping you took a photo of him and when he found it he was so embarrassed :(
sleepy!sam who loves cuddling with you. loves it. he loves laying on you and spooning you especially, but he isn't picky when it comes to how you guys cuddle.
sleepy!sam who gets paranoid that he's just a bit too big for you, especially when he engulfs you with all 6'4 of him. "'m i getting too heavy, baby?" he'd look up at you and ask with his big puppy eyes, and even if he was, you'd shake your head no and tell him he wasn't because how could you say no to him?
sleepy!sam who sleeps face down typically which is so cute because.. because it is idk
Summary: A quiet Christmas gift exchange in the bunker leads to something more when Dean finally gives you the one gift heâs been holding onto all along.
Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Christmas vibes, confessions, no use of Y/N, no beta we die like men
A/N: This is my submission for @spnfanficpondâs secret Santa gift exchange of the year! I got @spnbabe67! All of the prompts you had submitted were RPF which I donât write for, but I adapted one of them to be a reader insert. I hope you enjoy it~ Happy holidays~ đđđ
The library looked nothing like it normally did throughout the rest of the year. All the lore books had been put away. There were no scattered papers with hastily scrawled case notes. There were no wayward weapons that Dean had forgotten to put away. Instead, there was a fat, shiny garland laid along the length of one of the tables, a plate of cookies you had made earlier, and four gifts lined up in the center looking like they had been pulled straight from a Hallmark movie complete with giant bows.
You had spent the last week decorating around the bunker for the season. Sam and Dean hadnât said anything, but they both wordlessly encouraged you when a bag of festive decorations had showed up on the kitchen table one day. When Cas had asked what you were doing, you had explained that the bunker needed some âlivening up.â He had complimented your âfestive ambiance.â You thought it all was perfect.
The four of you stood in a row looking at the table. Dean stood next to you, his eyes warm in the twinkling Christmas lights. He had been weirdly nervous all day. Fidgeting and clearing his throat and doing that thing where he clenched his jaw like he was bracing for something.
âAlright,â Sam said, breaking the silence. âOur first secret Santa gift exchange. Cas, you wanna start us off?â The three of you looked down at the angel who looked between you and the gifts on the table. When he didnât move, you stepped forward and grabbed the box that had been wrapped in shiny, snowflake-patterned paper before setting it in front of the angel. He hesitated a moment longer before finally reaching out and carefully peeling the tape off of a single corner, slow and reverent like it was an ancient text.
âCas,â you laughed softly, âyou can just rip it.â
âAre you sure?â Cas paused again. Dean snorted.
âBuddy, itâs wrapping paper. Go nuts.â
Cas tore the gift open, revealing a plain cardboard box. Dean pulled a knife from his pocket and offered it to him. When the box opened, Cas went still, staring at the contents. Inside was a kit of mini pots and herb seeds. He pulled each thing out and set it on the table before finally pulling out a book titled âHerb Gardening for Dummiesâ except duct tape had been plastered over âdummiesâ and the word âangelsâ had been written in sharpie in your handwriting.
âThis isâŠâ Cas began, voice going soft, âvery thoughtful. Thank you.â He stared at everything for a long moment before finally looking up at you, expression serious. âI may need your assistance occasionally to make sure I am performing plant care properly.â
âAnytime,â you said, smiles crinkling the corners of your eyes. âI thought you might enjoy having something to nurture. Plus, once theyâre grown, youâll have herbs that you can use. Either to eat or⊠whatever else you do with herbs.â Cas nodded solemnly as though you had just assigned him a task of the utmost importance rather than a potential hobby. Itâs how you knew he appreciated the gift. Sam nudged you with his elbow, leaning close and whispering,
âLook at you, angel whisperer.â
âAlright, whoâs next?â Dean asked, clapping his hands together.
âHow about you, Sam?â And even though you had phrased it as a question, you were already reaching out for the other neatly wrapped gift. A smile played on your lips, remembering the day that you had all drawn each otherâs names for a gift exchange. Cas had shown up at your bedroom door just hours later with the gift for Sam and a roll of duct tape.
âWhatâs up, Cas?â you had asked.
âI believe the tradition is to wrap the gift before you give it to its recipient. Iâd like help wrapping this, please,â he said, holding out the gift and the tape to you. You set the book you had been reading down on your bed before getting up to go over to him.
âCas, you canât wrap a gift in duct tape. Letâs get you a box, and Iâll teach you how to wrap a gift.â
Sam accepted the gift you handed him with a boyish grin that made him look years younger. Unlike Cas, he didnât hesitate in pulling off the wrapping paper. Though he was still methodical, efficiently tearing it away. He pulled a knife from his pocket and sliced through the tape keeping the cardboard closed.
âNo way,â he breathed, reaching in and running his fingers over the contents. Dean leaned over to peek inside. âAre theseâŠ?â
âUndiscovered Dead Sea scrolls. I believe these ones contain apocryphal texts that would interest you.â Samâs eyes went wide as he set the box on the table and carefully lifted one of the delicate-looking scrolls. There were three in total.
âHow did you even get these?â
âI have my ways,â Cas replied, and if you werenât mistaken, you were pretty sure you could hear a hint of pride in his voice.
âThis is incredible, Cas. Thank you.â
âNerd gifts for the nerd,â Dean muttered. You shot him a look, but Deanâs smile gave away his happiness. âMy turn?â he asked, rubbing his hands together.
âTake it away,â you handed him the bag with green tissue paper sticking out the top.
Dean wasnât delicate like Cas or methodical like Sam. He dug into the bag like a kid on Christmas morning. In a sense, he was a kid on Christmas morning. He tossed the tissue paper over his shoulder, jaw going slack as he set his eyes on his gift. Inside were several vinyls, and his face lit up with undisguised joy as he pulled them out one by one. Led Zeppelin. Black Sabbath. Kansas. Metallica. All original pressings in pristine condition.
âHoly shit,â his voice went quiet as he handled each record with a carefulness that contradicted his earlier eagerness. âDid youâ?â His eyes found yours. You shook your head and jutted your thumb in Samâs direction.
âNot me. I got Cas.â
âFound them at an estate sale when we were working that case in Nashville,â Sam said, looking as pleased with himself as he sounded. âThe lady didnât know what she had.â Dean ran his fingers along the edge of the Led Zeppelin IV album then looked up at Sam.
âThis⊠this is awesome.â He shook his head in disbelief, and for a second, his eyes looked suspiciously bright in the Christmas lights. He cleared his throat. âThanks, Sammy. Really.â
Warmth spread through your chest, a smile of your own pulling your lips upwards. Seeing Dean happy â really happy â was a rare sight you never got to see enough. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners and the smile that reached all the way up to make his green eyes sparkle? It made everything youâd ever had to endure worth it.
âGuess that leaves me, yeah?â you asked, eyeing the final gift on the table. The bag was the largest gift on the table with red tissue paper that looked like it had been meticulously tucked in, taken out, and then repacked multiple times. Dean set his records down, picking up the bag and offering it to you. All the excitement heâd had just a moment ago evaporated, and you realized that this was the first time you had ever seen Dean Winchester genuinely nervous. And around you, no less.
âGo on,â he murmured. You opened it.
The first thing you saw was soft fabric, and with a furrowed brow, you pulled it out of the bag. The soft bundle unfolded in your grasp to reveal a patchwork blanket. There were various squares in deep greens, soft browns, and different shades of red. Deanâs colors. But it wasnât the colors that hit you.
It was the fact that you had seen every one of these fabrics before.
âThis isâŠâ You blinked, a familiar stinging sensation pricking at your eyes. You ran your fingers over the square of the red and black flannel he had worn the first day you met. There was a faded white and gray one from a case in Montana and a green plaid one that he had been wearing when you both nearly died in one of the underground tunnels in Oregon.
âOld shirts,â Dean said gruffly. âClean, obviously. Theyâre ones Iâve had for years. Ones I wore on hunts or on⊠better days.â He cleared his throat again, not quite meeting your eyes. âYou mentioned a while back that you liked my flannels. And, uh⊠that they make you feel safe.â
Your heart stuttered in your chest.
âDeanâŠâ You squeaked, your voice abandoning you. You traced your fingers over a patch of dark blue that you recognized from the day heâd taught you how to use the iron sights on a rifle. His patient instructions. The way his hands had steadied yours while you took aim. The same blue flannel rolled up at the sleeves.
Every square was a memory. A moment. A piece of him that he was giving to you.
âI had some help,â he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to sound casual. He failed miserably. âFound this lady in town who makes quilts. Brought her some things and told her it was important.â You clutched the blanket close to your chest, feeling its weight in your arms. It was heavier than you had expected, every shared memory carefully woven into it. You opened your mouth to speak but couldnât form words around the lump in your throat.
You didnât notice when Sam and Cas had quietly excused themselves from the room, leaving you and Dean standing in the library alone. Dean squared his shoulders, rolling them like he was bracing for impact.
âIf you donâtâ if youâre not intoââ
You didnât let him finish his thought. You stepped into him, wrapping one arm around his middle and pressing your face into the soft cotton of his Henley. He stiffened for a moment, breath catching in his throat, before his arms came around you and holding you against him like heâd been waiting for this exact moment for years.
âThis is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever gotten me,â you murmured against him, gripping him and the blanket tighter. Dean pressed his lips to the top of your head, and you could feel his heart thundering in his chest.
âYeah?â he asked, his voice low and uncertain in a way that you didnât think you had ever heard from him before.
âYeah,â you whispered, pulling back just enough to look at him while still staying in the circle of his arms. The Christmas lights cast a warm glow over his features, highlighting the faint freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. He pressed a hand to your cheek, warm palm cradling your face like he was holding something precious. His eyes searched yours, a cautious hope flickering in them.
You werenât sure who moved first. Maybe it was Dean, his thumb tracing a gentle arc over your cheek like he was memorizing the shape of you. Maybe it was you, leaning into him because any distance between the two of you suddenly felt unbearable. Either way the space between you disappeared, gravity pulling the two of you together like it had been trying to for years.
âCan IâŠ?â he breathed, the words brushing against your lips. âIs this okay?â You swore this man could tear your heart out with a single question.
âMore than okay,â you whispered. His breath was warm as he exhaled with the faintest shudder like it was something he had been holding onto for months.
Dean kissed you like he was afraid youâd change your mind. He was gentle. Careful. His lips were soft and hesitant. And when you kissed him back, fingers curling into the front of his Henley like you had no intention of ever letting go, he braced a hand at the back of your head and pulled you into him with a quiet, desperate sound that he probably didnât mean to make. Dean sank into the kiss, his other hand holding the small of your back like he was anchoring himself.
The blanket was still clutched between you, a physical manifestation of your shared memories, held close to both of your hearts. When you finally broke apart, he pressed his forehead to yours, eyes still closed as if he were etching the moment into his mindâs eye for the rest of eternity.
The Christmas lights blinked gold and red across the bookshelves, bathing the two of you in a warm glow that made the whole room feel surreal. Like you had stepped into one of those Hallmark movies you always joked about. Except something about this felt even more impossible. When Dean finally met your gaze, the lights reflected in his eyes, twinkling and turning the green of them into something magical. His expression was soft in a way youâd only ever caught glimpses of. Vulnerable in a way he never allowed himself to be.
âBeen wanting to do that for a long time,â he muttered, thumb stroking your cheek like he didnât even realize he was doing it.
âMe too,â you admitted, the words tumbling out of you before the fear of rejection could catch up. Deanâs breath caught. Then, a smile spread across his face. A boyish one that made him look younger. Lighter. Alive. But then it faltered, replaced by the familiar, skittish uncertainty that he always got whenever something good happened to him.
âYou sure?â he asked quietly. âAbout⊠all of this?â
Your hold on the quilt tightened, the weight of it grounding you in the moment. Threaded memories. Shared hunts. Every version of Dean youâd ever known stitched together and handed to you like a confession.
âIâm sure.â
âGood.â His voice was low and warm. ââCause I donât think I could go back to pretending anymore.â
He pulled you against him again, wrapping you and the quilt in his arms. You sank into him easily, like youâd been doing it your whole life and draped your arms over his shoulders before leaning in to kiss him. And this time, when your lips met his, you knew that this was the best Christmas the bunker had ever seen.
---
Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!
Sam and Dean hadnât said anything, but they both wordlessly encouraged you when a bag of festive decorations had showed up on the kitchen table one day.
My first audible "awww"
He hesitated a moment longer before finally reaching out and carefully peeling the tape off of a single corner, slow and reverent like it was an ancient text.
My baby he's so precious
He pulled each thing out and set it on the table before finally pulling out a book titled âHerb Gardening for Dummiesâ except duct tape had been plastered over âdummiesâ and the word âangelsâ had been written in sharpie in your handwriting.
You mentioned this part in your post before and it's what hooked me- did not disappoint lol, this is just so adorable
And Cas with the duct tape <3333
Sam's gift? Literally went "Ohmygod he's such a nerd I love him!!"
âI have my ways,â Cas replied, and if you werenât mistaken, you were pretty sure you could hear a hint of pride in his voice.
Mysterious ways?
Inside were several vinyls, and his face lit up with undisguised joy as he pulled them out one by one. Led Zeppelin. Black Sabbath. Kansas. Metallica. All original pressings in pristine condition.
I actually said "Ooh- shit" because daaaaamn gimme lol
Warmth spread through your chest, a smile of your own pulling your lips upwards. Seeing Dean happy â really happy â was a rare sight you never got to see enough. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners and the smile that reached all the way up to make his green eyes sparkle? It made everything youâd ever had to endure worth it.
My god I just need him to be happy-
You ran your fingers over the square of the red and black flannel he had worn the first day you met.
I shit you not, I whispered "Shut up" and teared up here
Every square was a memory. A moment. A piece of him that he was giving to you.
Stawp itttt
The whole next scene was just purely beautiful, I don't know how to comment on it
The Christmas lights blinked gold and red across the bookshelves, bathing the two of you in a warm glow that made the whole room feel surreal. Like you had stepped into one of those Hallmark movies you always joked about. Except something about this felt even more impossible.
Okay but I FELT this. I could see it, I could feel it- it was just amazing
Fucking hell Avery, idk how I haven't read this before, this is a thing of beauty
