More stalker Luke I absolutely loved it pleaseeeeeeee 💕
That’s it
Have a lovely day
omg yes !! especially after this weeks ep
hope you have a lovely day too anon <3
nsfw under the cut ! minors dni !
- ok so maybe after the break up, you and luke are closer than ever. you guys spend every waking minute of every hour together. there’s a moment where camp thinks you guys are a thing, and you almost believe it too. until he’s revealed to be the lightning thief. luke obviously doesn’t tell you when he leaves or when he comes back, but you know. you can feel it.
- the first time he visits you is at camp. you’re crying into your pillow, holding onto one of luke’s shirts you’d found lying on your floor. you both remember it from an evening luke was too tired to walk back to cabin 11 and there was no way you were letting him in your bed without changing out of his sweaty outside shirt. the same outside shirt luke was watching you hold so tightly from outside the window. it was as dark now as it was back then, and he’d made sure to stop by after lights out.
- he liked watching you cry. to luke, this meant you cared about him the same way he cared about you.
- every time after the first that luke had stopped by, he found you crying. sometimes it was into your pillow, sometimes it was while you sparred; remembering how he used to spar with you. other times, your sadness manifested into something else entirely.
- on the fifth time luke visited you, he’d made it into your dimly lit cabin, comfortably hidden in the shadows. again, you were in bed, however, tonight, your hands were tangled in yourself, not luke’s shirt.
- his jaw fell slack as he watched you pump your fingers in and out, in and out- like he dreamt doing. this was so wrong, but luke couldn’t tear his eyes away from your writhing body and his ears from your soft sighs.
- guilt almost settled into luke’s bones before he heard you cry and... call his name??
- and that’s when luke realised, you’d caught on to him. you’d heard backbiter open secret doors and heard luke step through them. and you liked it.
ahhhhh hope you liked this anon !!
if it seems choppy it’s because i didn’t want to write anything too long
jon snow kisses like it’s oxygen and he’s a man suffocated. it’s not sloppy or rushed, it’s calculated, careful, laced with intention. it’s like he lives to serve you and you him. every so often, he’ll bite and his teeth will turn the flesh on the inside of your lip a deeper pink, almost blossoming red. all the while, he’s huffing between each kiss, pulling you impossibly closer, moulding you like clay. jon snow would never ask for it, but he’d revel in the way you’d scratch his scalp. biting down a little harder when you’d pull the black strands before jumping back into his attack on your mouth, swallowing every sound that escapes it. jon snow was a man of few words, but each kiss never failed to tell you more than his voice ever would. his hands would be on their own journey, mapping your body and committing it to memory. every dip and curve of your spine- he wanted every inch of you to know his touch. some parts, the parts of you the bastard favoured, would be held tighter, almost bruising. he wanted you to look at them and remember him, he wanted to always be in your mind, as you were in his.
AND HE LIKES TO SING ALONG / / AND HE LIKES TO SHOOT HIS GUN
DEAN WINCHESTER X F!READER
18+ CONTENT. MINORS DNI.
summary: dean teaches you how to shoot a gun. amongst other things.
inspired by: in bloom- nirvana
this was a very much ‘fine i’ll do it myself’ kinda feat. not enough dean fics out there esp since its spn season. this is also my tumblr debut x
lots of smut, not a lot of plot. hope u like x
“hey, focus.”
your attention snapped back to the ‘x’ dean had etched into a tree.
dean had his arms around you, thick hands encompassing yours which aimed his white colt at dean’s makeshift target.
“hm? oh, sorry.” you blinked your eyes a few times, drawing in on the target.
“no. not ‘sorry’. focus.” he grunted in your ear. “sure thing you can use a knife, sweetheart, but what happens when you’re too far? y’gonna throw your knife at a ghost?”
“well that’s why i have you and sammy.” you shrugged, to which earned you a jab in the back from dean.
“keep your back straight.” dean rumbled, eyes rolling at your overt smartness.
“ow.”
“yeah, you’re gonna feel an ‘ow’ when you’ve got claws down your body. back straight, eyes on the target.” you took note of how his father’s drill training peeked through his orders to you, even after all these years.
you huffed, fixing your posture and lining up dean’s colt.
there was something twisted about such a pure, little thing using dean’s favoured weapon.
not only had he used it on countless demons, ghosts, werewolves- heck people too. but you remembered the first time time he had used it on you.
on a hunt, not too long ago, he caught you staring a little too mindlessly towards him.
well, not towards him. more so the colt.
and when you had told him later that night that you wanted him to use it on you, he seemed, at the time, a little taken aback, hesitant even.
however, you watched, writhing under him, as that hesitance turned into malevolence and instead of giving himself to you that night, he gave you only his gun.
“come on baby, work for it.” dean coaxed, admiring your contorted face and your wanton whimpers.
“you gonna shoot that anytime soon?”
fuck, now you were wet.
“sorry, m’just distracted.” you mumbled, furrowing your brows, determined to actually shoot now. “focusing now.”
dean was still behind you, heavy grip on your elbows, heavy breath in your ears.
yeah we’ll see about focusing.
dean had no intention to distract you by any means, in fact it was his idea for you to learn how to use a gun- “sam and i aren’t always gonna be there. and i don’t plan on you leaving anytime soon either.”
but you were taking way too long trying to shoot a target less than six feet from you, and dean never has any objections to a bit of fun.
he watched as your index finger finally began to apply pressure over the trigger. his mind calculating when exactly to introduce some fun into this little training session.
dean slowly took his hands off yours, letting it snake down to rest on your waist.
“dean, what are you doing?” your voice had already begun to shake, the weight of the colt feeling heavier as your palms started sweating.
“nothin’. focus.” dean dismissed, his hand traversing down, down, until he found the buttons on your jeans, toying with them until he hit the band of your panties.
“dean.” there was no way you were concentrating at all on that tree anymore.
“let’s play a little game, huh? the closer you are to the target, the closer i get to where you really want me.” his fingers slipped under the waistband of your underwear. “that sound fair, sweets?”
instead of answering, you pulled the trigger, the bullet burning a hole in the tree 20 centimetres above from where you wanted it to go.
“that a yes, huh?” he grunted in your ear “but, i said the target, baby.”
“dean.. please.” you huffed out, eyes rolling as your head fell back onto his shoulder, the gun almost slipping out of your hands.
“monsters are more distracting. shoot. right in the middle, i know you can do it baby, come on.” dean’s voice was gruff in your ear, sending an entire wave of shivers down your spine.
you glanced down as his hand crept closer to where you craved him, edging around your clit, but never touching it.
inhaling, you straightened your back, shook away the shivers, and regained your grip on his colt.
“that’s a girl.” dean whispered, nipping your earlobe before granting you a sickly sweet kiss, stark in contrast to the current situation. he felt you whimper into the kiss before pulling away, not yet granting you any such reward.
this time you tried not to think as hard. yes thinking too hard would send you over the edge, resulting in a punishment from dean, but you also tried to rationalise- you wouldn’t be thinking too much if you were being chased by a demon, right?
the second shot was much better and much closer, not smack in the middle like he wanted but close enough for dean to finally reward you with attention to your aching clit.
“come on baby, third times the charm.” now dean was moving his right hand from your right elbow, allowing it to slip under your shirt and rest upon your left tit.
“s’too much, dean. please.” he could tell from the whiny tone of your voice that you had begun to tear up.
oh, he’d give you something to cry about.
without warning, he stuck his middle finger into you, letting the heel of his palm push against your core.
“see how nice i am? hmm?” he grunted, digging his finger and palm into you. “now, you make that shot and i’ll give you what you want. if not, all you’ll have tonight is that there colt.”
now that drew a moan out of you.
“we’ve a deal, pretty girl?” dean nosed at the side of your face, grinning slightly at your torment.
nothing but a pathetic hum, bordering a grumble, came out.
a mumble of ‘good girl’ came out of his mouth and into your hair as he resumed his movements inside.
just like the previous two times, you repeated your actions. straight back, tight grip. and just like the last time, you tried your damndest to clear your mind. even though it was harder now with his finger in you, moving with more fervour and more dexterity.
you bit your lip in both concentration and suppression of a throaty moan. your finger, once again, gripped the trigger as you pressed down, your eyes following the bullet as it hit the target.
smack. in. the. middle.
you began smiling but your celebration was cut short by dean finally moving as fast as you wanted, adding another finger, just as you wanted and finally, turning you around so he could kiss you. just as you wanted. finally making you cum, just as you wanted.
“atta girl. knew you could do it. baby just needed a bit of encouragement, huh?” dean goaded. through your concentration and your post-orgasmic haze, you hadn’t noticed that dean had taken himself out of his confines, allowing you to feel just how hard he was.
with as much might your jelly-legs could muster, you jumped onto him, caging him as you pushed him backwards on the hood of his impala parked conveniently behind you.
“you want this, baby? want me to fuck you on my car?” he tugged your head back by your hair to watch your reply- jaw slack with a hastened nod and moan. “dirty girl.”
you let his mouth envelop yours before he spun you both around, setting your back onto the car. from here, you could see just how desperate you were for him, a collection of your juices had darkened his boxers, a little on his open fly, catching the light of the cloudy sun.
you carried on staring, eyes glazing over as he lined himself up with your entrance, that beautiful sting electrifying as he settled deep into you.
“dean.” you whined. your hands had moved from holding his midsection to cradling his face as your nails dug into his neck, bringing him into a kiss that was purely teeth and tongue, encouragement for him to keep moving.
a few, albeit long, minutes pass of dean rocking in and out, in and out of you with the occasional kiss or tug at each others hair, all the while your moans of his name and other incoherencies fill the air of the murky woodland dean had sought out for your ‘lesson’.
oh what a lesson this was.
dean found himself moving faster now, his hands and hips most likely bruising you. he would be lying if he said that’s not what he wanted. swallowing one of your breathy moans once again, his thumb moved to your clit, bringing you to the edge right next to him.
the twittering of crows were now drowned out by mumbles of ‘dean’, ‘so good’ and other mismatched phrases, stark in contrast to your usual eloquence.
“come on baby, cum with me. come on.” dean goaded, his thrusts getting harsher as his words got more strained.
obedient as always, you took the thumb of the hand cradling your head into your mouth, sucking, licking, biting on it as your brow-bone tilted up- both signs of your ever-approaching orgasm.
soon enough, ramblings of heated compliments were overtook by the increasing pitch and tone of moans, the last articulate sentence being dean’s- a simple warning of his seed spilling into you falling from his pout lips, enough to push you over the edge you’d been teetering on for the past ten minutes.
ever eager to please, you let go.
spasm after spasm washed over you as dean watched from above, cheshire cat-smile across his face as he watched yours contort when he pulled out to stand and admire his handiwork.
he waited and watched as you sat up on the impala, leaning on your hands. dean revelled in the way your hair tangled, your tits spilling from the tank you wore, matching the dark-wash jeans that had bunched up around your knees.
HE KNOWS WHEN I’M SLEEPING / / AND HE KNOWS WHEN I’M NOT
RUSSELL SHAW X FEM!READER
EXPLICIT CONTENT. MINORS DNI.
✩ BACK TO… NOURA’S CHRISTMAS SPECIAL
summary: russell welcomes himself home
warnings: somnophilia, dubious consent (russell and reader are consenting, but reader doesn’t verbally consent), smut
inspired by: buy me presents- sabrina carpenter
russell shaw didn’t have a ‘home’ by its orthodox standards. to him, ‘home’ was wherever you were. and right now, in the drivers seat of his car, on his way back from some small town in santa monica, you were snug in bed, draped in one of his shirts, drowning in your sheets.
russ loved it when you wore his clothes. especially so when he came home to find you in them. he’d called a few hours ago, telling you he was on his way, divulging in how much he loved you and missed you and wanted to feel you wrapped around him again.
and so, with that all-too-familiar fuzzy feeling inside, you dug out the shirt that smelled the most like him (also his favourite on you) and slipped it on.
you had no intention of going to sleep so early, but waiting all day had worn you out, to the point of you dozing off with your hand between your thighs and your head full of russell.
he’d eventually come home at around two-thirty, tired to no end but equally as eager to see you again and feel you again.
russell traipsed into the bedroom appreciating the smell of vanilla and cedarwood filling his senses before his eyes fell on your sleeping figure.
the sheets had shimmied down to lay on your waist and russell’s shirt had risen, not showing him your chest, but showing him that your hand had stayed between your thighs, despite your apparent moving around.
“oh, sweetheart.” he sighed, lightly clicking his tongue, noting how you’d forgone panties as he recalled the agreement that the two of you had shared- no panties was a bright green light for what he was about to do .
he wasn’t going to punish you, no that would be too mean. nah, he decided to wake you up with the warmest of surprises.
russell started with ridding himself of his pants, then his socks and finally his shirt. smiling and glad that his rustling around hadn’t woken you up just yet.
lifting the sheets on his side, he manoeuvred himself to be behind you, and carefully removed your hand away from yourself. you shifted slightly.
“shh, it’s okay, it’s okay. ‘m gonna make it all better.” you couldn’t even hear him but it was like your body had some subconscious response to his voice when your legs stretched out and apart, welcoming him.
your obvious need egged him on, pushing russell to cup your cunt and let him drive the heel of his palm into you. he worked you open, readying you for him while soft, barely audible sighs left your unconscious throat.
it wasn’t before long that you were wonderfully wet for him, the pitch and reverb of your sighs letting him know you were ready for him. ready for that ache to slowly dissipate as he slipped his dick into you, drawing out new sounds of slick into the room as he thrusted in and out, in and out.
as russell continued to bring you both to climax, he thought of how you might wake up tomorrow, all sticky and tangled up in him, undoubtedly glad that you wonderful boyfriend was home once again.
a/n: second installment! i know that this one is veryyyy loooooosley inspired but this is the one thing that came to mind😭 banner creds: @estrelinha-s
IM DREAMING OF A WHITE CHRISTMAS / / JUST LIKE THE ONES I USED TO KNOW
DEAN WINCHESTER X ANGEL!READER
MINORS DNI.
✩ BACK TO… NOURA’S CHRISTMAS SPECIAL
summary: christmas in heaven was spectacular compared to earth, dean was determined to bring that beauty to the bunker
warnings: fluff!!!! kissing, littlest amount of angst
inspired by: white xmas- sabrina carpenter
dean winchester would watch you all day if he could. his pure-as-snow angel, spinning in the snow of the machine he’d procured for the holidays.
dean noticed you were extra quiet during the christmas season, you stared more often out the window and not at him, you spent more time outside and wandering around heavens gateways. when he asked castiel about this sudden change in behaviour, the answer was not one dean was prepared for.
“she mourns heaven. her time there, especially during this season.” he’d told the hunter, monotonous as ever, however his eyes told dean all he needed to know.
dean couldn’t let his angel, the purest light in his life not be happy during one of his favourite times of the year. so, he set out to make your first official christmas on earth and with the winchester’s the best ever.
he found a snow machine, got the biggest tree that could fit in the bunker and piled as many gifts that could fit underneath it. all to see that smile grace your face once again.
you got out of bed on christmas morning to a certain emptiness where dean would usually lay. you never slept, but noticed that dean slept better with you there, so for the better half of the year, you’d been ‘sleeping’ in his room.
“dean?” you called out, wandering out of deans room and into the maze-like hallway of the bunker. you had forgone pants during the night since the bunker was usually at a comfortable temperature, yet you felt a small shiver as you sought out your lover.
“in here, sweetheart!” he replied. it sounded as if he was near the foyer of the bunker, where you felt it was coldest.
“dean, the bunker isn’t usually this cold-“ you had cut yourself off to take in the sight before you- a flurry of what appeared to be snow, falling on top of probably the largest tree you’d seen in your millions of years. dean had decorated it with baubles and tinsel, white as the snow that fell around you both, but left the top empty.
“dean, what is this?” the smile he adored had returned to adorn your face, even brighter than ever as you twirled around, laughing and taking in the snowglobe he’d built for you.
“merry christmas, dove.” dean moved closer to you, one hand loose around your waist and the other cradling your face, bringing you in for a feather-light kiss.
“merry christmas, dean.” you beamed. you leaned back to feel him place a dove shaped tree-topper in your hand, as if your smile couldn’t get bigger.
to be loved, is to be seen. and dean saw you, feathers and all.
a/n: yay!! my christmas special is done!!! for someone who doesn’t even celebrate this was crazy lol. i just love the holiday season. anyway!!!! this was super fun, love you all lots
YO SOY LA PRINCESA, COMPRENDE MIS WHITE LINES / / ‘CAUSE IM YOUR JAZZ SINGER AND YOU’RE MY CULT LEADER
billy butcher x fem!reader
18+ content. minors dni.
thinking of desperate sex with butcher…
it would be rough, bruising, everything he needed to remind himself of you. to ground him again, prevent him from fiddling with temp v.
you’d be pulling his hair, almost like an anchor bringing him to the present, to now. it would be the pain he was craving for all day allowing himself to let go, physically and mentally, coming out as variations of strangled grunts.
“harder, baby.” he’d beg, encompassing your hand in his as he squeezed, eliciting the most pleasurable of pains.
all the while he’d be kissing and grabbing at you, burning the idea of you into his mind. butch would never want to forget the way you’d whimper and whine when he’d bite softly on a hardened nipple, or the way you’d gasp when he pulled your panties down, exposing you to cold air and his ravenous mouth.
his mouth would never close too, either he’d be moaning, growling almost as he pumped into you, or he’d be talking to you, whispering the dirtiest things into your ear as he felt your pussy reacting to every enunciated vowel.
“give it to me, come on, i know you’ve got it in ya.” he’d say, almost condescendingly before sucking one of your moans into his mouth.
