⋆˚꩜｡Soo what's up? There's like a 99% chance I won't post more than filthy drabbles n whatnot on here, but feel free to whisper your evil little ideas into my ear* and maybe I'll even respond.⋆˚꩜｡
I'm Michael and I write so yuh that's it, also I'm
⋆˚꩜｡so y'know do with that what you will. If writing anything, it'll probably be transman, male, or gender neutral reader. My page is for anyone, but just know I don't feel comfortable writing a fem perspective. Take a look at whatever writing is recent to get a feel for what evil whispers I might answer. That's all, have fun y'all.⋆˚꩜｡
*footnote: if I'm overwhelmed with my askbox/requests, I'll change the symbol from 👂 to 🛑 to let y'all know–STOP! If you send a request while my stop-sign is up, I won't answer it!✮⋆˙
please please please give us some daddy ben 😫😫 dad ben with a little innocent reader who has no idea his dad should NOT be touching him the way he is and is just too caught up in all the attention ben gives him to even notice
- lowkey obsessed anon MWAH have a gold star ⭐️
Anon i FUCKING LOVE YOU, meah mwah💋💋 ignoring all my other requests that've been sitting in my askbox for forever because ugh🚬 but I love this hell yeah; just a preface, reader is AN ADULT(I know it's mentioned multiple times, I just don't want anyone giving me shit for this)
Ever since you turned eighteen, it had been a daily routine. You never minded much, though, since you dad had good reason. "You're eighteen now, dad's gotta make sure you ain't givin' your sweetness away," he'd say. You thought it made sense, you thought it was normal, too. And of course you weren't ever with anybody, but it always made him smile to check and... maybe you liked the attention.
It was late into the night now, some time after midnight when he got home. You were half asleep on the couch, having tried to wait for him to get home. You could hear his heavy footfall get closer until his weight dipped the couch down next to where you were lying.
"Daddd.." you cooed sleepily, trying to sit up and look at him. "Ah- you're okay. Ass up, kid. You know it's inspection time when daddy gets home," he pushed your face back down into the couch, hand leaving your hair as you pushed your hips up, supported by your knees and face smooshed against the couch.
"Good boy," he said mindlessly as he pulled your bottoms and boxers down to your thighs. You didn't try to hide yourself anymore, knowing it would only land you a firm spanking. You let him spread your folds with two fingers and drag his thumb on the other hand through them. The feelings of his hands on you made you start to feel warm and wet, you didn't really understand it.
"There ya go," he muttered, attention mostly on your pussy, "gettin' fuckin' soaked like it's 'sposed t' for daddy." He continued to hold your open with two fingers as he pushed the first finger on his other hand into you. He only pushed in far enough to feel your hymen, then pulled his finger back out when he was satisfied, "good, good. If you give yourself to anyone, daddy's gonna know. It tears y'up in there," he reminded, even knowing you'd never show yourself to anyone else like you did him.
Nevertheless, you responded with that respectful tone you knew he deserved, "yes sir." He circled his thumb around your clit three times, seeming satisfied with how it made you tremble and clench around nothing. "Almost done, just one more thing, kiddo," he said, thumb rubbing comfortingly through your folds.
You knew what the last thing was–your favorite. When he tasted you, when he made sure he couldn't taste anyone else in your little cunt. He changed the way he held you, spreading you apart with both hands as he leaned his face down. He swirled his tongue around your clit then delved it into your hole. You felt it every night, it was still always a jolting feeling. "Daddy-" you gasped as your toes curled. Your felt his beard brush your clit as he pressed soothing kisses to your wet cunt, rubbing yoyr ass with one hand.
After a few moments, he leaned away and pulled your pants up. He pat you on the ass and looked down as you triumphantly, "all done." You still didn't move from your position, you knew better. "You did good, son. Dad can tell you haven't been letting anyone touch that sweet little cunt, good boy. Come give daddy a kiss," he leaned back into the couch with a sigh.
You knew that as your cue to finally lift your head from the couch cushion and crawl onto his big thigh, leaning in to kiss his lips. You tasted your pussy on his lips as his beard itched at your cheeks. You didn't dare try to pull away on your own. After a few moments he pulled you away and tucked you against the side of his neck like you were a still a baby.
"Always so fuckin' good for dad..." he said quietly, holding you against his body as you started to drift off again.
I feel like a little kid because im crying over my stupid dad and his stupid issues and everyone trying to force him into my life i wish everyone would just LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE
This but someone I know started crushing on Soldier Boy and I literally had to distance myself because like I know it's unreasonable and I sound crazy but thats MY DADDY ugh I love him I love my daddy hes so wonderful
Fuck it I'll write full incest now if you guys would be interested in that. For my last few fauxcest fics I've been kinda creeping around the real incest line, but honestly I don't even give a fuck anymore it's what I wanna write. I won't write Wincest or any other character/character incest, but I'll write brother or son reader/brother or dad character now.. so uh yeah, send reqs
tags: part two of this fic, comedy ?? idk, fluff n smut, reader is the youngest (18) winchester brother, grinding, dry humping, kissing, clingy reader, sub reader, gentle dom cas, bratty reader (not with cas), dean being horrified and really against whatever is going on between the reader and cas lmao, sam is just trying to mediate the whole situation lol, dean and sam walk in on the reader and cas, afab terms for reader's genitalia.
autor's note: cas and his autistic gentle dom swag have captivated me
Ever since you’d found comfort in Castiel’s quiet presence, you had become impossible. The gentle oral routine you shared with your angel had awakened something deeper, something restless and needy that made you extra fussy lately. You whined at the smallest inconveniences, snapped at Sam during research, and were especially bratty with Dean, who had become Public Enemy Number One for trying to keep you and Cas apart.
Dean was done. He didn’t approve — not even slightly. “He’s our baby brother, Cas. Eighteen. You get that? Barely legal. This— This stops now.” He’d growl every time he caught you clinging to the angel. Sam tried to play peacemaker, pulling you aside for awkward talks about boundaries, but you were defiant. You wanted Cas. Needed him. And Cas, in his patient, angelic way, simply let you have what you needed.
The bunker had turned into a minefield of tension.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟 ❤︎ ﾟ｡ ❀ ｡ﾟ ❤︎𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟
One afternoon in the library, you were extra restless. Dean and Sam were reviewing a case file across the table. You ignored them completely, crawling straight into Castiel’s lap where he sat reading an old tome. You straddled his thighs shamelessly, arms wrapping around his neck as you nuzzled into his trench coat.
“Cas…” You whined softly, pressing little kisses along his jaw. Cas smiled. “Missed you.”
Castiel’s hand settled on your lower back, steady and warm. “Shh, I am right here, little one. Always.”
You didn’t stop there. You tilted your head and kissed him properly — soft at first, then deeper, licking into his mouth with needy little sounds. Your hips shifted restlessly in his lap, grinding subtly against him, almost forgetting about your brothers's presences.
Dean’s pen snapped in his hand.
“Jesus Christ, kid!” Dean barked, face turning red. “Get off him— Get off him right now! This is my damn house.”
You broke the kiss just enough to glare at him over your shoulder, still perched comfortably in Cas’s lap. “Make me, Dean. He’s mine.”
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is…we need to talk about boundaries again.”
But you just turned back to Cas, kissing him again, slower and more deliberately, tongues sliding together while your fingers played with the collar of his coat. Cas hummed softly, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head, the other resting possessively on your thigh. You melted against him, completely shameless, quietly whining into his mouth right there in front of your brothers.
Dean stood up so fast his chair scraped loudly. “I can’t watch this. I’m going for a drive. Sam, you deal with…whatever the hell this is.”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟 ❤︎ ﾟ｡ ❀ ｡ﾟ ❤︎𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟
The brattiness only got worse. You followed Cas everywhere, sitting in his lap during meals, kissing his cheek — and sometimes his mouth— in the kitchen, pawing at his chest and grinding subtly against him when Dean and Sam weren't looking. You were pent up — deeply, achingly so. The gentle comfort you shared with Cas helped, but it wasn’t enough anymore. Your body craved more, and the constant disapproval from your brothers only made you more defiant and needy.
One night, Sam and Dean were forced to leave for an urgent lead two states away. Dean had fought it tooth and nail, but there was no other option. Before they left, he pointed a finger at Cas. “Do not touch him. I swear to God, Cas—”
The door slammed shut. You were finally alone.
You came to Cas almost immediately, teary-eyed, crawling into his lap on the couch in the war room. “Cas…I’m really pent up.” You whined, voice cracking as fresh tears slipped down your cheeks. “It hurts so bad. I need you. Please.”
Castiel’s arms wrapped around you instantly, one hand stroking your back soothingly. “I am here, sweet boy. Tell me what you need.”
You didn’t hesitate. You straddled him fully, knees on either side of his hips, and started grinding down against the front of his slacks with shameless desperation. Your underwear did little to hide how wet you already were — slick soaking through the fabric as you rocked your hips, rubbing your clit and soaked cunt against his growing bulge.
Cas’s breath hitched, hands settling firmly on your waist. “This is…more than our usual comfort.” He murmured, but he didn’t stop you. His hips rolled up gently to meet your frantic movements, letting you use him.
“Feels so good, Cas.” You whimpered, burying your face in his neck as you humped his bulge harder. The thick ridge of his cock pressed perfectly against your clit through the layers of clothing. You were dripping, leaving a wet spot on his slacks that grew bigger with every desperate grind. “Cas, fuck, Cas, please…I’ve been so empty and— and they won’t let me have you—”
“You have me now.” He reassured you, voice low and steady. One hand slid down to grip your ass, guiding your movements while the other cradled the back of your head. “Take what you need, little one.”
You rode his clothed cock frantically, whining and moaning openly. The friction was delicious — your swollen clit rubbing against the hard line of him, your slick cunt sliding along his length. You kissed him messily, tongues tangling as you panted into his mouth. Drool slipped down your chin. Your hips moved in needy circles, then frantic little thrusts, chasing the pressure exactly where you needed it.
Castiel groaned softly as he grew fully hard beneath you. “You are so wet for me.” He noted, voice rougher than usual. “Grinding on me like you cannot get enough.” His voice had this teasing edge.
“I can’t.” You sobbed against his lips, grinding harder, faster. “Been so pent up— wanted this for days…”
The wet sounds of your soaked cunt sliding against his slacks filled the room. You were trembling, thighs shaking on either side of him as the pleasure built rapidly. Cas’s hands tightened on your hips, helping you move, pulling you down harder against his throbbing bulge.
“Come for me, my love.” He murmured, kissing your temple. “Let go.”
You came with a broken cry, shuddering violently in his lap as your orgasm crashed over you. Your cunt clenched around nothing, slick soaking through both your clothes as you kept grinding through the waves. The feeling pushed Castiel over the edge right after you. He groaned quietly, hips twitching as he came in his slacks, warmth spreading between you.
You collapsed against his chest, panting and sleepy, nuzzling into his neck with a content little sigh. “Thank you, Cas, so much better now…”
Castiel held you close, stroking your hair and back. “You are always welcome, my sweet boy. Rest now.”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟 ❤︎ ﾟ｡ ❀ ｡ﾟ ❤︎𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟
The bunker door slammed open much earlier than expected.
Dean stormed in first, Sam trailing behind him with a resigned expression. They both froze at the sight of you curled up in Castiel’s lap, both of you flushed and obviously messy, clothes ruined with cum and slick.
Dean’s face went through several stages of horror and disgust. “What the— Cas! He’s eighteen, and he's my brother, for fuck’s sake! Again?! You two couldn’t even last one goddamn night without— Jesus Christ, I can smell it from here!”
You didn’t even lift your head. Still sleepy and clingy from your orgasm, you just nuzzled closer into Cas’s chest, hips grinding against his, hiding your face in his trench coat with a softwhine. “Mmm…make him go away, Cas.”
Dean gasped at your words, dramatically so.
Castiel simply wrapped his arms more securely around you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “He was...pent up, and distressed, Dean. I provided the comfort he needed. He is calm now.”
Dean threw his hands up. “Comfort?! He’s grinding on you like a cat in heat! Sam, back me up here — this is insane!”
Sam looked deeply uncomfortable. “Yeah— This is…a lot.”
You ignored them completely, sighing happily as you nuzzled even closer to your angel, perfectly content despite the audience and the yelling. Castiel continued stroking your hair, murmuring soft praises only you could hear.
Dean groaned loudly. “I need a drink. Several drinks. We’re having a family meeting tomorrow whether you like it or not, boy.” He was clearly talking to you, not like you were paying attention.
As your brothers retreated, still arguing, you smiled sleepily against Cas’s chest, warm and safe in the arms of the one person who always gave you exactly what you needed.
tags: youngest (18) winchester brother reader, oral fixation, cock sucking ?? like not a blowjob just reader using castiel's cock as a pacifier basically, cum swallowing, praise, petnames, gentle cas, dean walking in and being absolutely horrified lmao.
autor's note: i know i have other reqs to work on this was just too delicious to not write inmediately...
You were the youngest Winchester — freshly eighteen, still carrying that wide-eyed wonder that Sam and Dean had lost years ago. You had joined the hunting life properly after turning eighteen, but your attention had been fixed on one person from the very first time Castiel appeared in front of you and your brothers.
Castiel.
The angel fascinated you. His voice, the way he tilted his head when confused, the quiet power that radiated from him even when he was trying to be human. You followed him constantly, giving him those big, pleading puppy-dog eyes whenever he was in the room. You wanted something from him — something you couldn’t quite put into words at first, but the need grew stronger every day.
You started small. Sitting too close on motel beds during research. Leaning against his side when the four of you watched TV. Pawing at his coat sleeve or his arm, clinging like a needy puppy. Castiel never pulled away, but he would tilt his head, studying you with that unreadable angelic gaze.
One night in a cheap motel room, after Sam and Dean had gone out for food, you grew bolder. You crawled into Castiel’s lap while he sat on the edge of the bed, reading one of Sam’s lore books. Your hands wandered, pawing down his chest, then lower, brushing over the front of his slacks.
Castiel caught your wrist gently but firmly. “No, not there, it isn’t right.” He said, voice low and serious. “You’re too young.”
You looked up at him with those wide, pleading eyes, cheeks flushed. “But I want it, Cas. Please? I just…I need something. You feel safe.”
He repeated it softly, almost pained. “You’re too young, little one.”
But you didn’t stop asking. Every day, in quiet moments, you’d paw at him again, whispering, “Can I suck it, Cas? Just for a little while? Please?” Your voice was small, needy, and impossibly persistent. You wouldn’t let it go. It became a daily ritual — you clinging, pawing, begging with those heartbreaking puppy eyes until Castiel’s resolve began to crack under the weight of your innocent insistence and his own growing lust.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟 ❤︎ ﾟ｡ ❀ ｡ﾟ ❤︎𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟
It finally happened on a rainy night in a rundown motel. Sam and Dean were gone for the night, chasing a lead two towns over. You and Castiel had the room to yourselves. You had been extra clingy all evening, crawling into his lap again, nuzzling into his neck, pawing at his chest and then lower.
“Cas…please.” You whispered, voice whiny and sweet. “I’ve been good. Just let me suck it. I need it. It’ll help me.”
Castiel sighed deeply, eyes flickering with conflict. He looked down at your flushed, hopeful face — so young, so trusting, so desperate for comfort. “This is…not what you think it is.” He warned. “But if it brings you peace…”
You nodded eagerly, already sliding down between his knees. Castiel unzipped his slacks with careful hands and freed himself. His cock was half-hard, thick and flushed, resting heavy against his thigh. Your eyes widened with quiet awe, but instead of hesitation, you leaned in with a soft, content sound.
You didn’t try to take him deep or suck him like in the videos he secretly watched. You simply wrapped your soft, warm lips around the head, tongue resting flat against the underside, and began to suck gently — slow, rhythmic, soothing pulls like it was a pacifier or a favorite lollipop. The taste was clean and slightly salty, warm and alive. You hummed happily around him, the vibration making Castiel twitch and let out a surprised breath.
“Oh.” He murmured, one large hand coming down to rest gently on the back of your head, fingers threading carefully through your hair. “You are not trying to—? You are very gentle with me, little one.”
You settled more comfortably between his spread thighs, knees on the thin motel carpet, hands resting lightly on his legs. Your eyes fluttered shut as you suckled lazily, drool already beginning to slip from the corners of your mouth. The wet, soft sounds of your gentle nursing filled the quiet room — slow, rhythmic sucking, occasional contented hums, the faint slick noises as your tongue moved lazily against him.
Castiel’s cock gradually hardened fully in your mouth, growing thicker and heavier on your tongue. You didn’t speed up or try to take more. You simply kept the same soothing, pacifying rhythm — gentle suction, warm tongue cradling the underside, lips sealed softly around the head. Every few moments you’d swirl your tongue in a slow circle or press it against the slit, tasting the bead of pre-cum that leaked steadily. It made you sigh happily, the comforting weight and warmth in your mouth easing something deep inside you.
Minutes stretched into longer ones. Your body relaxed completely, shoulders slumping, breathing slow and deep through your nose. Drool ran freely down your chin now, dripping onto Castiel’s thigh and the floor, but you didn’t care. You were floating — safe, warm, anchored by the steady presence of Castiel’s cock in your mouth.
Castiel watched you with a mixture of wonder and deep tenderness. His thumb stroked slow circles on your scalp. “Such a sweet boy.” He praised quietly, voice low and rumbling. “You are doing so well, precious one.”
The praise made you hum again, sucking a little more eagerly for a moment before settling back into the lazy, self-soothing rhythm. Cas realized, of course, that his wasn’t about chasing pleasure.
It was about comfort, safety, the steady heartbeat of trust.
Gradually, your sucking grew slower, softer. Your head grew heavy against his thigh. You were falling asleep with his cock still nestled warmly in your mouth, gentle little suckles continuing even as your breathing evened out into true sleep.
Castiel stayed perfectly still, one hand continuously stroking your hair. He watched over you for a long time, murmuring soft praises into the dark room, but the constant gentle warmth, the soft suction, and the occasional unconscious swirl of your tongue eventually became too much.
Castiel felt his orgasm building slowly, inevitable. He tried to wake you gently, fingers threading through your hair. “Sweetheart…I’m going to release. You need to wake up.”
You stirred with a fussy little whine, eyes cracking open, still half-asleep and reluctant to let go of the soothing weight in your mouth. “Mmm— No, it's comfy…Don’t move.”
“Little one, I’m about to cum.” Castiel warned, voice strained but gentle. “If you want to pull off—”
You made a stubborn, sleepy sound and sucked harder, refusing to release him. Your tongue pressed lazily against the underside as you nursed through the haze. Castiel groaned softly, hips twitching minutely as he came. Thick, warm pulses filled your mouth — pulse after pulse of essence. You swallowed instinctively, a little messy, some dribbling down your chin and onto his thigh, but you took every drop with sleepy determination, humming contentedly around him.
“Good boy.” Castiel praised, voice full of wonder and deep affection. “Such a good, sweet boy. You swallowed everything so well. So perfect for me.”
You whined softly when he finally softened in your mouth, but you refused to let go completely, nuzzling closer and falling back into a deep, contented sleep with his softening cock resting gently between your lips, warm and safe.
Castiel stayed exactly where he was, one hand continuously stroking your hair, grace humming soothingly around you both. He watched over you for hours, murmuring quiet praises into the dark room until the rain outside finally stopped.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟 ❤︎ ﾟ｡ ❀ ｡ﾟ ❤︎𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟
This became a quiet, cherished ritual between you.
Whenever the opportunity arose — when Sam and Dean were out, or even asleep in the next beds — you would crawl to Castiel with those big puppy eyes and paw at him until he gave in. He would sit on the edge of the bed or in a chair, and you would settle between his legs, taking him into your mouth for comfort rather than technique. You’d suckle gently, slobbering happily, eyes heavy with contentment, until you drifted off with him warm and safe on your tongue.
Castiel never pushed for more. He learned to read your needs — when you were especially fussy after a hard hunt, when the nightmares came, when you just needed to feel close. He would praise you constantly in that low, rumbling voice: “My good boy. So trusting. Letting me take care of you like this. You are beautiful.”
Sometimes you’d wake briefly when he came, swallowing sleepily with little whiny complaints about being disturbed from your nap. Castiel would always soothe you afterward, cleaning your chin gently with his thumb, pulling you up into his arms so you could nuzzle against his chest.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟 ❤︎ ﾟ｡ ❀ ｡ﾟ ❤︎𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟
One evening, the routine was interrupted in the most unfortunate way.
You were settled comfortably between Castiel’s legs in the dim motel room, eyes closed, suckling lazily with soft, wet sounds. Drool trailed down your chin as you hummed contentedly, half-asleep already. Castiel’s hand stroked your hair gently, just the way you liked it.
The door suddenly swung open.
Dean stepped in, holding a bag of takeout, and froze mid-step. His eyes widened in horror at the sight: you on your knees, mouth full of Castiel’s cock, drooling happily while the angel looked down at you with soft, affectionate eyes.
“What the— Cas!” Dean yelped, covering his eyes and nearly dropping the food. “Cas, he’s eighteen, for fuck’s sake! What the hell are you two doing?!”
Castiel tilted his head calmly, one hand still resting protectively on the back of your head as you made a small, startled sound around him but refused to let go. “He finds it comforting, Dean. It is not what you think. He is safe and cared for.”
Dean’s face twisted in pure disgust. “Comforting?! He’s got your dick in his mouth like a goddamn pacifier! I walked in on a lot of shit in my life, but this— this is next level creepy, man. Get it together!”
You whined fussy around Castiel, not wanting to be disturbed from your nap, and not fully recognizing your own brother's voice in the dizzy, hazy headspace you were in.
Castiel simply blinked. “He requested it. Repeatedly. I ensured his consent and well being.”
Dean rubbed his face hard, still not looking. “I need brain bleach. Seriously, Cas. He’s my baby brother. He's— He's eighteen. Jesus Christ.” He backed toward the door, muttering, “I’m gonna go get more beer. Lots of beer. Don’t… just— don’t be doing that when I'm back.”
The door slammed shut behind him.
Castiel looked down at you with a small, amused smile, stroking your hair again. “Your brother is…very dramatic. Are you alright, sweet boy?”
You hummed affirmatively around him, eyes already drifting shut again, perfectly content despite the interruption.
Castiel continued his gentle praises, letting you fall back into your peaceful, comforting routine.
The room is bathed in the dim, golden glow of the salt lamp Dean insists on keeping in every motel room “for vibes, Sammy”, but right now, the only vibe is the slow, heavy drag of Sam’s cock inside you, his body a warm, solid weight pressed against your back. He’s half-asleep, his movements sluggish, like he’s fucking you in a dream. One he never wants to wake up from.
A pillow’s wedged under your hips, tilting you just enough that every time he sinks in, he stays there, buried to the hilt, his pubic bone grinding against your ass with a lazy, circular roll. You can feel everything—the stretch, the heat, the way his cock twitches inside you when you clench around him, like he’s surprised by how good it feels, even now.
His arm is a band around your waist, his fingers splayed over your stomach, pulling you back onto him with every slow, deep thrust. His other hand is clamped over your mouth, but there’s no real force behind it. Just the quiet understanding that Dean’s in the next room, and if he hears anything—even the wet, obscene sounds of Sam fucking you—he’ll never let either of you live it down.
“Mmm, fuck,” Sam mumbles into the crook of your neck, his voice thick with sleep, his breath hot against your skin. “You’re so tight like this.” His hips rock forward, his cock dragging against that spot inside you that makes your toes curl, and you whimper against his palm, the sound muffled but desperate. He smiles, you can feel it against your shoulder—because he knows what he’s doing to you.
His hand on your stomach slides further down beneath you, his fingers finding your clit with the kind of lazy precision that comes from knowing your body. He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t need to. His thumb circles you in slow, maddening little swirls, his touch feather-light at first, then firmer when you buck back against him, begging without words.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice a sleepy purr. “Take me. All of me.” And you do. You do, because how could you not? When he’s like this—warm, heavy, his cock throbbing inside you with every shallow breath—there’s nothing else in the world but the two of you, the slick slide of skin, the way his chest rises and falls against your back.
His thrusts are lazy, almost drowsy, but no less deep. Every time he bottoms out, he stays there, his hips pressed flush against your ass, his cock pulsing like he’s savoring the way you clench around him. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he whispers, his voice breaking just a little, and the sound of it has you squeezing around him harder, earning a broken groan from his chest.
His thumb presses down on your clit, and your body shudders, your orgasm building slow and deep, like a tide pulling you under. You can feel him everywhere—his chest against your back, his cock buried inside you, his fingers working you over, his breath hot against your neck. “Sam—” His name is a plea, a whine, and he swallows it, his hand pressing harder over your mouth as his own rhythm stutters, his hips losing their careful pace.
“I can’t—fuck—I can’t last,” he admits, and the admission is raw, so Sam it hurts. His thrusts turn erratic, his fingers digging into your hip, his cock twitching inside you as he chases his own release.
And then his thumb presses down, hard, and the world tilts. Your orgasm rips through you, slow and deep, your body clamping down around him so tightly he groans, his own release following with a shuddering, broken cry against your shoulder. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he spills inside you, his cock pulsing, his whole body trembling.
For a long moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing, the thud of his heartbeat against your back, the way his grip on you loosens just enough to let you drag in a lungful of air. His hand slides from your mouth, his fingers lingering against your lips like he’s memorizing the shape of them.
Then, because he’s Sam, because he can’t not say it—“You okay?” His voice is rough, worried, even now. Even after.
And you laugh, breathless, because of course he’d ask that. Of course he’d still be checking on you when he’s the one who just got fucked senseless.
You turn your head just enough to catch his mouth in a slow, sleepy kiss, tasting the salt on his skin, the faint hint of coffee from the diner down the road. “I will be,” you murmur against his lips, “when you do that again.”
His chuckle is quiet, low, and full of promises. “Oh, we’re definitely doing that again.”
Soldier Boy coming home all sweaty and dirty....Soldier Boy taking off the suit and getting into bed without showering....burying your face in his armpit....he'd be like "ew, nasty mf😒" but let you do it anywayyy....hmm
Dean stumbling home all sweaty and exhausted after a hunt, dropping his jacket and just flopping down on the bed....just moving his arm aside to put your face in his sweaty pit😋....hes too tired to even care about you being gross with him..hmm hm hm hm.mmm..
